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Tender to His Touch
Adrianne Byrd
Hollington Homecoming Queen Beverly Turner is pulling out all the stops for her ten-year reunion. The trendy designer's first order of business is to let loose and have some fun. And her wish just might come true when she meets Lucius Gray. The hunky, high-powered Atlanta attorney is looking for the same thing she is: a sexy fling with no strings.Lucius needs a time-out from his workaholic life, and the chic, sensual designer more than fits the bill. Like Beverly, the single father has been burned by love. But Beverly is arousing feelings that are making him long to turn their sizzling affair into a lifetime of passion. If she'll let him, he'll give her the happy ending she deserves and prove to this unforgettable woman that there is life–and love–after college….
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.
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
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
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.
