Kitabı oxu: «Tender to His Touch»
Their eyes locked and Beverly’s body submitted to an overpowering magnetic pull.
At the sight of Lucius’s head descending, the muscles in her belly quivered and her heart pounded so loud she feared the whole world could hear it. When their lips finally made contact, Beverly’s eyes fluttered close and once again, she was lost.
However, this time was different. In her mind, not only could she hear music but there was this wonderful floating sensation that made her feel lush and giddy. She pressed closer, greedy for more.
Lucius eagerly gave her what she wanted—what they both wanted. He had spent the evening wondering what she would taste like and he wasn’t disappointed. Her lips were amazingly soft and decadently sweet. A man, if he wasn’t too careful, could get caught up.
MILLS & BOON
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ADRIANNE BYRD
is a national bestselling author who has always preferred to live within the realms of her imagination, where all the men are gorgeous and the women are worth whatever trouble they manage to get into. As an army brat, she traveled throughout Europe and learned to appreciate and value different cultures. Now, she calls Georgia home.
Ms. Byrd has been featured in many national publications, including Today’s Black Woman, Upscale and Heart and Soul. She has also won local awards for screenwriting.
In 2006 Adrianne Byrd forged into the world of Street Lit as De’nesha Diamond. In 2008 she jumped into the young-adult arena writing as A. J. Byrd, and in 2010 Adrianne will hit the women’s fiction scene as Layla Jordan. She plans to continue creating characters that make people smile, laugh and fall in love.
Tender to His Touch
Adrianne Byrd
This book is dedicated to: Sandra Kitt, Jacqueline Thomas and Pamela Yaye. It was a pleasure working with you talented ladies.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Hollington College! This is the final book in this sexy, emotional reunion series. Next up: Beverly Turner and Lucius Gray. As Hollington’s class of ’99 homecoming queen, Beverly seems to have lived a fairy tale existence. But once she married her college sweetheart, it all turned into a nightmare. Now ten years later, she’s looking for a new start and I believe I have just the man for her.
You might want to curl up next to an industrial fan for this one, romantics. You’re in for one hot, spicy read as Lucius helps this beauty find her own groove. Maybe there are even a few clues we can all learn from this insatiable couple.
Wishing you the best of love,
Adrianne
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Prologue
Beverly Clark’s eyes were wide open when her alarm clock blared at five-thirty. She flung out an arm and shut off its loud and annoying buzz. However, she didn’t climb out of bed. Instead she remained nestled in her white cotton sheets, staring up at her popcorn ceiling.
She hated that damn ceiling.
It reminded her of cottage cheese or, worse, something she used to study under a microscope in her old science lab class eons ago. One of these days she was going to take Spackle or a chisel to the damn thing and scrape that junk off. Beverly huffed, rolled over onto her side and stared at the clock. Its loud ticking sounded as if it had been hooked up to an amplifier. In no time her heart and the muscles along her temples thumped in precise harmony.
Maybe she should just stay in bed today.
Why not? What difference would it make? It wasn’t as if anybody cared—or that she had anything to do.
The numbers on the clock blurred and in the next second warm tears slid from her eyes, rolled down her nose, then dripped quietly onto her pillowcase. She pulled in a deep breath, but her lungs felt as if they were trying to resist being revived. Her shoulders trembled and before long her entire body followed suit. It was five forty-five in the morning and she was crying.
A whole fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.
Reluctantly Beverly peeled the sheets back and pulled herself up. Those two simple acts nearly zapped all her energy. From across the room, she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror and was repulsed by what she saw.
“Oh, God.” She raised a hand to her sunken face while her fingers traced the deep lines below her bloodshot eyes. Her full lips looked bee-stung and cracked, and her hair…well, let’s just say that it would probably be easier to cut it than comb it. Her hands fell from her face and slapped against her lap. “Look at what’s become of me.”
Being the daughter of two prominent doctors, Beverly had grown up in an affluent and privileged life. Friends and family had told her throughout the years that she’d been lucky to have inherited her mother’s honey-brown complexion and liquid-gold eyes. In her youth, the combination had made her popular with the opposite sex and garnered more than a few sniping remarks from girls who’d assumed she was stuck-up. Those opinions usually changed, though, once people got to know her.
Beauty and charm helped land her the Miss Georgia Teen crown at sixteen and the Miss Georgia crown at eighteen. Plus she was also homecoming queen in both high school and in college. She was smart, too—at least she liked to think she was. She had managed to graduate in the top of her class and at one time had given serious thought to following her parents’ example and enrolling in medical school. But after an art teacher pointed out she had a natural flair for fashion, Beverly started spending hours upon hours daydreaming that one day her fashions would be worn on red carpets around the world.
But love intervened and she ended up marrying her old high-school sweetheart, David Clark, right after college despite the protests of her parents. It didn’t matter at the time. Surely her parents could grow to love her husband.
David had been a year older and, once upon a time, more mature. They had been so careful planning out their lives. He’d continued his schooling and become a dentist. It turned out to be a great decision. His career had afforded them a great life in the suburbs, but three years ago it all came crashing to an end.
More tears leaked from Beverly’s eyes.
From a distance, a car turned into the driveway. She turned her head toward the open window and listened to the smooth rumble of a Mercedes engine as it coasted toward the house. Beverly wiped her face and reached for her satin robe draped over the foot of her bed.
Beneath the window, the engine shut off, the car door opened and then slammed shut. The familiar footfalls of expensive Ferragamo loafers slapped against the pavement and then up the front porch. Beverly stood when she heard keys rattle in the front-door lock.
Inside the house, the heavy footsteps continued through the foyer and then up the staircase. Beverly tried to mentally prepare herself for her daily battle, but on this day she found that she simply couldn’t. She just didn’t have anything left.
The knob turned and the bedroom door crept open. David poked his head inside, his attention on the empty bed.
“Glad to see that you found your way home,” Beverly said, her wintry voice chilling the room. “And here I thought buying that GPS unit was a complete waste of money.”
Unable to hide his disappointment, David released a long, frustrated sigh. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”
“I haven’t slept in years.”
He rolled his eyes and pulled his wrinkled tie from around his neck. “Maybe that’s your problem.” David headed toward the adjoining bathroom.
“My problem?” she said, her eyes narrowing on his retreating back. Beverly followed. “Maybe my problem is that my husband is out screwing his office manager at all hours of the night while I’m stuck in this suburban prison cooking dinners for one.”
“There you go again. No one’s screwing around,” he said. “And I’m not stopping you from getting out of the house. That’s your choice. In fact, I wish you would get out. Maybe the neighbors would stop looking at me as if I’ve chained you up in the basement or something.” He turned on the shower.
“No one’s screwing around,” she thundered incredulously.
“Do I look stupid to you?” she hissed. “It is six o’clock in the morning. Nearly twelve hours since the office closed yesterday. Are you going to tell me that you had some dental emergency that kept you at the office and strategically away from a phone all this time?”
His eyes rolled again as he unbuttoned and then slid out of his pants. “I went out for a few drinks with the guys. I crashed over at Curtis’s place.”
David finally stopped and looked at her. Guilt was etched in every inch of his handsome face. The same face that she’d once vowed to love for the rest of her life. She now longed to rake her nails down its gorgeous perfection. Why did it seem as if the nightmare of the last three years had not scared him the way it had her? Why was it so easy for him to just move on? If they were truly soul mates why weren’t they living in the same hell?
“What?” David asked defensively.
“If you’re going to be a playa, then learn to get your lies straight.”
“I told you—”
“Curtis called here last night looking for you. He wanted to know whether you two were still going fishing today.”
Thick clouds of steam billowed from the shower, then swirled around the fractured husband and wife. The battle of their heated gazes raged on for a few heartbreaking seconds and then finally, resignation flickered across David’s face. He’d been busted and his brain failed to come up with a plausible lie.
“Just admit it,” she urged in a thin whisper. She half convinced herself that she would feel better if he’d just confess that he’d been having an affair. Confess that the perfume clinging to his clothes right now wasn’t just her imagination.
“Beverly—”
“Say it,” she choked out.
“Bev—”
“Goddamn it, say it!” She snatched a curling iron from the vanity counter and hurled it at him. The bastard ducked and the curling iron slammed against the glass shower stall. It hit a weak spot and the whole thing shattered as if she had unloaded an AK-47 at it.
David leaped away from the shower as shards of glass launched toward him. “All right! All right! I’m having an affair. Are you happy now?” he roared.
Beverly sucked in a breath and stepped back as if he’d punched her. Her mind reeled. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to hit him, scratch him or kick him in the balls.
As he realized what he had said, regret blanketed David’s face. He reached for her. “Beverly, I—”
“Don’t touch me.” She pulled away. “I want you out. Out of this house and out of my life!”
“Look, Beverly. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s over.” She took another huge step back, shaking her head. “I want a divorce,” she said evenly.
He wouldn’t give up. “We’ve been through a lot,” he reminded her. “We can get through this.”
“No, we can’t,” she contradicted. “We can’t…because I don’t love you anymore.”
Chapter 1
Two years later
A jacketless and tieless Lucius Gray was nearing his tenth hour poring over documents and case files. He kept telling himself that he’d quit for the day—or rather, night—every ten minutes, but his determination to know this wrongful death case backward and forward prevented him from leaving. He wanted all his ducks in a row so he could squeeze Dr. E. J. Stewart and his insurance company into settling the case for a mid-eight-figure settlement.
It wasn’t one of his biggest litigation cases, but this particular case hit him hard. The similarities between Mr. Keith Johnson’s death and Lucius’s father’s were just too striking. Dr. Stewart, a cardiologist, kept finding nothing wrong with Mr. Johnson a year after he had a stint implanted and recommended he see an oncologist for his illness. Of course the oncologist found nothing wrong with him and kept referring him back to his cardiologist. All the while, Mr. Johnson’s condition grew worse and worse. When he finally passed away, the autopsy showed that he had a lot of blockages in his arteries and his poor heart just gave out. There were so many of them that it was just unexplainable how Dr. Stewart had missed the obvious.
What did it say about the state of the health-care system when doctors were just too busy to do their jobs?
The phone chirped.
Lucius glanced up, annoyed to have had his concentration broken. He punched the speakerphone button. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Gray, I have your wife on line one.”
He frowned. “You mean my ex-wife, don’t you, Maggie?”
“I’m just repeating what she said.”
Lucius drew a deep breath and pitched back into his chair. Until that moment, he hadn’t noticed how hungry he was or how tight his neck muscles had become.
“Mr. Gray?”
“Put her through,” he said and expelled a tired breath. In the next second the phone rang and he picked up. “What can I do for you, Erica?”
“You haven’t been able to do anything for me in a looooonnng time,” she answered in her usual sarcastic tone.
He rolled his eyes. “I really don’t have time to fight with you right now. So—”
“I know. I know,” Erica huffed. “You’re working on a really important case. The story of our marriage.”
“So you kept reminding me through the divorce.” Lucius’s office door crept open and he looked up in time to see Maggie poke her head inside. He didn’t miss the tired lines beneath her eyes or how her morning curls had wilted on her head. “Erica, hold on for a moment.” He hit the phone’s mute button without waiting for his ex-wife’s permission.
“I’m getting ready to head out,” Maggie said. “Is there anything else you need?”
Lucius glanced at his watch. It was well past seven o’clock. “No. I’m good. Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Maggie nodded and then disappeared back behind the door.
Lucius drew a deep breath and hit the mute button again. “I’m back.”
“I can’t bring Ruby this weekend. It’ll have to be next weekend.”
Lucius’s grip tightened on the phone. In the five years since his divorce, he and Erica kept playing the same game with their now eight-year-old daughter—the emotional blackmail game. And now that Erica had a new man, Andrew, in her life, she seemed steadfastly determined to have this jerk take Lucius’s place. “You said that last weekend, Erica.”
“It was true last weekend, too,” Erica snorted. “And don’t act like you’re so disappointed.”
“I made plans,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly true. He’d planned to wing it. Maybe take Ruby to Chuck E. Cheese or a movie or something.
“Please.” He could practically see Erica rolling her eyes. “Buying her a bunch of junk food and dragging her to your office isn’t exactly a trip to Disney World.”
Great. She played a guilt card. “It was just that one time.”
“Uh-huh,” she said dubiously. “Like I said, I can’t bring her this weekend. Andrew wants to take Ruby up to Boston.”
“Boston?” Lucius barked, irritated. “What the hell is in Boston?”
“Andrew is from Boston…and we’re going up to meet his family.”
Silence.
“Lucius?”
“So…what? This relationship is getting serious?” He was surprised by his annoyance.
“Maybe,” she hedged, her tone finally softening.
Lucius closed his eyes and then rubbed the tension from his forehead. It wasn’t that he still harbored romantic feelings toward his ex-wife. It was more that the threat of him being replaced in Ruby’s life with another man was becoming a reality at a pace that made him more than uncomfortable. “C’mon, Erica. How long have you known this guy? Two months—three?”
“A year,” she corrected him.
Had a year passed that quickly?
“Of course, if you ever pulled your head out from your…work, you’d see that life was passing you by.”
Lucius heaved another frustrated sigh. “Can we not fight tonight? I have a headache.”
“Fine.”
The line fell silent, but the tension remained. Finally he said, “I don’t know if I like this.”
Erica chuckled. “Don’t tell me that I’ve finally done something to catch your attention.”
“Is that what this is all about—getting my attention?”
Her laugh deepened. “Please. I’ve stopped trying to do that a long time ago. You made it perfectly clear that your work is all that matters to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“It feels true.” Another awkward silence drifted over the line. “I’ll bring Ruby next weekend,” she said and then disconnected the line.
Lucius held the phone until the automated voice came on and instructed him on how to make a call. “That went well,” he mumbled under his breath. He settled back in his chair, replaying the call in his head and wishing he had handled the situation better. But what had been obvious for many years now was, point-blank, he and Erica just rubbed each other the wrong way.
His gaze fell on a framed photograph of his precocious daughter, Ruby. He struggled to remember exactly how old she was in the picture—maybe four or five. It was an adorable picture of her with her thick black hair parted into two fat ponytails. On the day of the picture, she was so proud to show off the loss of her two front teeth. Her big quarter-size hazel eyes danced with excitement at the possibility of seeing the Tooth Fairy.
Lucius reached over his desk and picked up the photograph. Instantly, his irritation and annoyance at Erica melted away and a broad smile broke across his face. Ruby was a perfect amalgam of him and Erica. She had his warm brown complexion and hazel eyes and Erica’s button nose and full lips. “Daddy’s little girl,” he whispered, feeling his chest swell with pride.
Ruby Elizabeth Gray was the absolute joy of his life—despite what her mother thought. Sure, he had been thrown out of his element from time to time by tea parties with imaginary guests or playing baby dolls with dolls that actually did number one and number two. However, most of that came from the fact Lucius grew up in a family dominated by men.
It had been a real shock to him when the doctor told him and Erica that they were going to have a girl. He didn’t know what to do with a girl. Up until that ultrasound, he had envisioned mock football and basketball games with Junior. Instead he got a little girl that stole his heart like no other. And he was a better man for it.
Lucius slowly rocked his neck from side to side, but his tense muscles refused to relax and his empty stomach rumbled in protest. Sighing with regret, he knew that it was finally time to call it a night. Propelling out of his chair, he quickly stuffed the case files into his briefcase, slid on his office jacket and crammed his tie into his pocket.
As he exited the building of Kendall, Hendrix and Gray, LLC, he contemplated which fast-food drive-through he was in the mood for. Once behind the wheel of his black Cadillac SRX Crossover, he elected instead to finish off some leftovers he had back at the crib. He’d always been careful to take care of his body through regular exercise and a healthy diet, and there was no need to wreck all that for a greasy burger.
It was well past eight o’clock by the time he finally pulled into his large two-car garage. As usual when he headed toward the garage door that led into the kitchen, he tossed a longing look toward his old wood workshop. His man space, as Erica used to call it. How long had it been now since he’d lost himself in the hobby of building things—six years…seven?
He had always enjoyed working and making things with his hands. It had a way of relaxing him. However, with the influx of bank and credit fraud, his law firm had enjoyed a healthy spike in litigation and court cases. There just hadn’t been any time to whittle the hours away in his workshop.
Soon, he promised himself. He’d make the time one day soon.
Lucius entered the house, flipped on the light switch, placed his briefcase on the counter and made a beeline toward the refrigerator. Thirty minutes later he was settled at the dinner table and casually sifting through the day’s mail. He stopped when he came across the envelope from Hollington College.
His smile was instant. “Hollington.” He chuckled, opening the envelope. “My old stomping grounds.” Suddenly memories of football and frat parties filled his head, as well as the small string of college shawties he’d juggled while struggling to maintain his high GPA.
“‘October homecoming weekend,’” he read. His eyes quickly scanned over the invitation card. “Tenth anniversary? Has it been that long already?” He shook his head. Where had all the time gone? Thinking about it, a lot had happened in ten years: marriage, law school, law practice, a baby, working like hell, making partner, working like hell, divorce, working like hell.
There was a theme in there somewhere.
“All work and no play make Lucius a dull man,” he whispered. He glanced up and truly took stock of the empty dining-room chairs surrounding the table. Outside, the evening crickets played their songs while his expensively furnished house felt awfully cold…and lonely.
His gaze shifted back to the invitation. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. A little time out with some old friends…and old girlfriends.
“Beverly, what do you mean you’re not going to the reunion?” Kyra asked, her hands propped on her slender hips. “This is a big weekend for the university and I’m counting on you to be there.”
“I don’t see why,” Beverly said, straightening a rack of embellished skirts. Her trendy, high-end boutique, Hoops, was on North Highland Avenue and a steady stream of twentysomethings flowed into the store and left carrying enormous white shopping bags with the dainty Hoops logo. The sparkly chandelier, golden cherubs and tasteful furniture lent a chic, intimate feel to the place. “Aside from you and a couple of other people, I haven’t kept in touch with anyone from our graduating class.”
“Beverly, you were homecoming queen and everyone’s expecting you to be there.”
“That’s too bad, because I’m not going.”
“Give me one good reason why you can’t go.”
“I’ll give you three. For starters, I’m swamped here.” Selecting a dazzling sheath from off the rack, she slipped it off the gold, padded hanger and held it up to one of the mannequins in the front window. “I’m putting together the final touches for my new spring line, and I have to design a gown for Gabrielle Union to wear to an awards gala next month.”
“You seem stressed, Bev. Why don’t you let me take you out for lunch?”
“So you can pressure me into going to the reunion?” Beverly shook her head. “No way. I don’t have time for this right now. I’m up to my neck in paperwork and it’s going to take me the rest of the afternoon to fill the online orders.”
“Beverly, you’ve been dodging my calls for weeks and the reunion is less than a month away. I need to help finalize the rest of the plans for homecoming.”
She said nothing, just continued dressing the mannequin and humming to the Smokey Robinson song playing in the background.
Kyra heaved a heavy sigh. “So, that’s it? You’re not going and there’s nothing I can say or do to change your mind?”
Beverly gave a brisk nod, and then changed the subject. “I was at my favorite fabric store last week and it seemed the whole town was abuzz with the news of Terrence’s big return.”
“Yeah, his arrival has generated a lot of good press for the school. We’re received hundreds of online applications, and we had so much traffic on the Web site yesterday, it crashed!”
“I bet,” Beverly agreed. “After all, he is the pride of Hollington.”
“I’m lining up as many interviews as I can. I even contacted my old sorority sister, Tamara Hodges, about doing an article on Terrence becoming the Lions’ coach.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You got him to sign on already?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
Beverly started to speak, but her words were drowned out by a shrill, piercing laugh. Realizing they needed privacy, Kyra grabbed Beverly’s hand and dragged her into the back office. While the boutique was bright and glitzy, the office was a simple, understated space teeming with fashion magazines, invoices and poster boards. “Now,” Kyra began, closing the door and standing in front of it, “spill it. What’s the real reason you won’t go to the reunion?”
Beverly stood her ground. “You’re not going to change my mind, so you might as well save your breath.”
“The class of ninety-nine voted you homecoming queen, Beverly. How’s it going to look if you don’t show up?”
“Like I’m a popular fashion designer who has orders to fill.” Straightening up, she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze drifting to the open window. “Kyra, I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’ve moved on from beauty pageants and modeling contests. I want to be taken as a serious businesswoman and that’s not going to happen if I’m riding on top of a flowered float.”
In an effort to keep the peace, Kyra listened to what she had to say without interrupting. Beverly was frowning, and she could tell by the faraway look in her eyes that her mind was somewhere else. “Why does it feel like you’re blowing me off?”
“I’d never do that,” Beverly insisted, shaking her head. “We’re friends, remember?”
“Then can a sister get a discount on that gold Ferragamo gown?”
Beverly gave a brief sputter of laughter.
“Hanging out with old friends is just what you need. You’ve been divorced for almost two years, but you haven’t been on a single date. I’m not telling you to go out there and party like Paris Hilton, but live a little, girl! Go to the reunion, and have a good time. And if you see someone who catches your eye…” Kyra trailed off, her glossy red lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “There are going to be plenty of handsome, eligible brothers at the reunion, Bev. It would be a shame for you to miss out.”
A smile broke through. “You must be very good at your job,” she teased.
“I try,” Kyra sang, laughing. Sensing a subtle shift in her friend’s mood, and anxious to get her on board, she continued, “Homecoming weekend is your opportunity to shine. Do you know how much business you’ll drum up for the boutique just by being there wearing one of your gorgeous, one-of-a-kind creations?”
“I never even thought of that. It would be great for business, wouldn’t it?”
Kyra nodded. “How about I contact Tamara and ask her to do a piece in Luster about Hoops? It’s free publicity and last year the magazine surpassed Glamour magazine in sales.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, you’re going, all right,” Kyra vowed, lobbing an arm around Beverly’s shoulders, “because I won’t take no for an answer!”
That was exactly what Beverly was afraid of.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.
