IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN Read online

  Laney shivered as her body responded to his words, even though they’d been uttered in aggravation. The silence between them was awkward. Laney took a step back and headed toward the patio door. She turned and smiled at him, again. “You’re welcome to join me, if you like.”

  Ray watched her leave the room. The slow roll of her hips caused beads of sweat to break out on his forehead. He started to follow, but knew he needed a moment to get his head together. A slow rhythmic squeak caught his attention a few moments later. Quietly, he slid the door open and stepped outside. Not even the chilly night air cooled him off. He stopped a few feet from Laney who sat on a white swing with her eyes closed, smiling. He leaned his shoulder against a post and watched. To save Jesus, he couldn’t look away. Right then and there, he knew his resolve had hit rock bottom.

  Honesty shot through him like a stray bullet, demolishing his sense and shattering the one vital organ he’d never allowed a woman to ever get close to—his heart. His two older brothers had warned him. They’d told him about the day a woman would come along and knock him to his knees. Did he listen? Oh, no. In fact, he’d laughed in their faces. “Red, we need to talk.”

  Laney kept her eyes closed. A few seconds passed before she softly said, “All right, but there’s an important question I need the answer to, first.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Could you fall in love with me?”

  Ray pushed away from the post and sat next to her. His weight caused the swing to dip and sway. With his left foot, he took control of the motion, rocking back and forth. His senses were raw, his emotions exposed. “Hell, yeah.”

  That’s all she needed to hear. Things were settled now. Laney took no offense at his silence. She understood he needed time to come to terms with his feelings. She firmly believed an innate knowing was buried deep down inside of every human spirit. They were meant for each other. He was hers and she was his. It was as simple as that.

  In the clairvoyant way she saw things, Laney went for broke. She turned and stared him straight in the eyes and gave him a private smile, one she’d never offered any other man. “And if you hadn’t thought about marrying me, I suggest you do.”

  Marriage? They hadn’t even kissed yet, and she was already talking about jumping the broom. If he were a sane man, he’d be up and running toward the front door, if he didn’t want the next words out of his mouth to be “I do.” Ray didn’t budge. And what shocked him even more was he never once thought to laugh out loud or tell her she was crazy as hell. With other women, he had mind-blowing, back arching sex. He’d stayed clear of any serious commitments and always made his position clear up front that he was an “into the moment” man.

  Well, that was then and this was now.

  Ray avoided relationships because he feared it would interfere with his one passion in life, his music. Music was absorbing, and he threw himself into it the same way he did with his personal life, with control. Whenever he sensed a woman wanted anything beyond a casual affair, he simply ended things and moved on.

  But Laney Olivia Houston was different from the women in his past. Everything about her appealed to him. There was nothing overtly sexual about her. He was familiar with desire, had experience the physical side of it before he turned seventeen. What he felt for Laney had absolutely nothing to do with sex. The nameless emotion was real and too strong to walk away from. A man would be stupid to ignore the magnetic attraction between them. He was a lot of things, but a fool, he wasn’t. Laney came at him straight up, without a chaser. She hadn’t thrown herself at him or chased after him the way other women had.

  Ray accepted what he’d denied for months. This southern belle was one bad mama jamma and had straight up dropped a bomb on him.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning around five, Laney walked next to Ray, their fingers entwined, toward the front door. The fact her grandfather offered them an evening of privacy made last night perfect. They’d stayed up most of the night and talked. She learned more about Raphael Baptiste in the past eight hours than she had the last twelve months. Just before dawn, she fell asleep in his arms. Over a gourmet breakfast of cheese omelets smothered in a mushroom-cream sauce, which Raphael prepared, they decided to spend a few days together in Stockholm, Sweden after the Nobel Prize award ceremony. And when he extended an invitation to dinner this evening, she accepted without hesitation.

  The moment Raphael opened the door and walked out, she felt alone and empty. She hadn’t realized her body was capable of a sensation this strong for anything other than her medical research. The feeling was both electrifying and terrifying. They stood on the porch and faced each other, only inches apart.

  Breathing swiftly, Ray stared down at her. His expression was hard and sensual, his eyes dilated with arousal. “See you later tonight.”

  Laney couldn’t speak. On shaky legs, she nodded, her entire body aching.

  Hunger rose swift. Patience had never been his best virtue. Ray knew thirteen hours stood between now and the chance to witness Laney’s beauty and hold her again. Fire and desire connected and swept him into oblivion. “I need to kiss you,” he whispered and pulled one of her arms around his neck. He circled his arm around her narrow waist and pulled her hard against him. “Just once…”

  Laney molded against him as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. It felt right. This wasn’t an “I’ll see you later kiss.” It was hard and deep. She threw her other arm around him and hung on for dear life. The nerves in her legs shut down, and she couldn’t support her weight, even if she wanted to. The force of his mouth opened hers, and she knew this couldn’t be any more perfect than if she’d landed in heaven.

  Laney could care less if anyone saw them. Raphael increased the pressure on her lips, placed her head more securely into the cradle of his shoulder and unleashed all the sensuality she recognized in him from the beginning.

  She matched his fervor. Her heart slowed then sped to a thunderous pace. His shudder made her release a low, sweet groan. Inches separated them. She stared at him as a spike-tipped breath stabbed her lungs and opened her mouth, then snapped it shut when she noticed that his eyes radiated arousal, his lips were wet from the moisture of their kiss. She shuddered when he trailed his index finger down her cheek and whispered, “Later.”

  “Raphael stay—”

  “No,” Ray uttered, raggedly and shook his head hard. “Go back in the house, mon ange.” His hair-triggered nerves were about to detonate any second. Damnit, the way she’d whispered his name, with that sweet inflection in her voice, had just about sent him over the edge and destroyed what little control he had left. He loosened her and stepped back. “The environment’s real bad right now. Go.”

  My angel. She contemplated a refusal, but nodded her compliance instead. His kiss had produced a level of delirium she hadn’t expected and certainly had never experienced. She turned and walked toward the still the opened door. Her eyes were drowsy, her lips swollen from his kiss. She thought she would cry on the spot, she loved him that much.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ray returned to his estate thirty minutes later. The northbound drive up Interstate 680 was the most difficult one he’d ever made. He unlocked the door, bracing his back against it almost before it was shut and closed his eyes. Lord, the woman who’d dominated his thoughts by day and his dreams by night had been right there in his arms, willing and ready, and he’d walked away. Daaayuuum. Blissfully tired, he swaggered up the staircase to the master bedroom and tossed his keys and cell phone on the nightstand. Reclining on the bed in a spread eagle position, he laced his hands behind his head, smiling. With Laney, it wasn’t about touching her or having sex. If he was going down this road, he wanted, no correction, needed to do things the right way.

  Ray rolled to his side toward the nightstand and lifted the receiver off the base. He punched in a number and listened to three rings.

  “Mon frère, are you up?”

  The insistent ringing had awak
ened Alex Robinson from a dead sleep. “Ray, it’s six the morning. Hell no, I’m not up!”

  Ray swung his arm up and glanced at his watch. “My bad. Listen, player, I need a favor.”

  “Ray, I don’t do favors before eight.”

  “All right, it’s a minute after nine. Now listen up, will you?”

  Alex sleepily yawned in the phone. “Shoot.”

  “Let my security detail know I’m heading to Stockholm. Red and I are going to hang out there after the ceremony.”

  Alex chuckled. “How is it that come hell or high water, somehow you always manage to land in a woman’s bed?”

  “Shut up, mon frère,” Ray growled, growing testy. “Red…she don’t roll like that.”

  Alex burst into laughter. “Aaah, have you finally admitted to yourself what everyone else has known for months?”

  “Look, mon frère. You need to stay in your lane. It’s too early for a freeway pile-up.”

  “Huh…yeah, right.” Alex snickered. “Anything else?”

  If Ray heard the question, he didn’t answer. His thoughts were solely on the woman who’d clung and kissed him with such passion, he doubted if sleep would come any time soon. Although it had taken every ounce of self-control he had to do the honorable thing, if she’d looked back just once, to hell with good intentions. She’d be lying under him and his bed would be tore up from the floor up, but not out of frustration. “Go back to sleep. I’ll talk with you later.”

  Ray placed the receiver back on the base, undressed and slipped between the sheets. Never in his life had he felt like this. He was a sensualist and knew his body well. Since the day Laney walked into his life, he’d been so physically frustrated for her there was never a thought of being with any other woman. For twelve long months all he’d dreamed about was red hair, green eyes and flawless butter-smoothed skin. At that moment, the vision was too much for him to bear.

  Ray prayed he didn’t dream too hard about Laney…at least before he got a few hours of shut-eye.

  ~ ~ ~

  Friday morning Ray sat inside the private office of his personal physician. The incessant wait for his eleven o’clock appointment was as nerve-wracking as being hauled in front of a firing squad.

  Sweaty palms methodically smoothed out the arrow-straight crease in his slack. Every once in a while his Italian loafers tapped against the carpeted floor to a one-two beat. Ray wasn’t sure what hurt the most, the ache in his groin or the knots in his shoulders.

  Ray sprung to his feet the moment the door hinge squeaked. “Okay, doc. You’re going to give me a clean bill of health, right?”

  Dr. DiMaggio walked inside and sat in a brown leather chair behind his desk with a drawn face. He motioned at the chair behind Ray. “Ray, as much as I’d like to tell you everything is okay, I’m afraid I can’t. Your condition is more serious than I’d initial thought.”

  Ray sat heavily. “You mean I don’t have a pulled groin?”

  Dr. DiMaggio shook his head sideways.

  “Well, whatever is wrong, won’t a prescription take care of it?

  “Ray, medicine won’t solve your problem entirely. I wanted to wait until I got the results of your lab reports and ultrasound before I confirmed your diagnosis. Ray you have—”

  “Bed rest,” Ray interrupted followed by a snap of the finger. He chuckled nervously. “That’s all I need to do is take it easy for a few days, right?”

  “Bed rest isn’t the answer, either. Surgery is your only option.” Dr. DiMaggio cleared his throat. “You’re getting ahead of me. Let’s discuss your diagnosis. Then we’ll go through your treatment options step by step.”

  “Whoa, whoa, doc. You need to slow your roll here,” Ray shouted in disbelief and shot to his feet. While he knew something was wrong, he never expected it to be serious enough to involve surgery. Plus, surgery meant he’d be out of commission for a while. Before he headed out the door this morning, he’d made arrangements for him and Laney to fly out a week from today to Stockholm aboard his private jet. Treatment options? Panic looped and twisted inside of him until it settled in the pit of his stomach. He blew out a hard breath. With both hands at his waist, he assumed a wide-legged stance. “Exactly what is wrong with me?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Damnit, Red…” Ray uttered wearily, with an arm braced against the door frame. “What part of I’ve got testicular cancer don’t you understand?”

  It was a little past six Friday evening when Ray opened the door at his estate. His eyes were empty, his breathing hard. He’d struggled all afternoon to come to terms with the two words Dr. DiMaggio had ceremoniously told him. The life he’d known before shattered around him like a pane of glass. The sting from the news left hours ago. In fact, the devastation of what he’d heard had long passed. Bitterness was now his best friend.

  Laney stared up at Raphael, relieved he’d finally taken her call. When he hadn’t contacted her after she’d left numerous messages on his voice mail, all of which had gone unanswered, she’d known something was wrong. “Have you eaten anything today?”

  “No,” Ray admitted truthfully. Food was the last thing on his mind. Calls to his family, business manager and band members, as well as his attorney had superseded everything else. Within the hour, they’d all converged at his home to lend their support. God knows he appreciated their concern, but their outpouring of support became overwhelming. Ray asked them to leave because he needed to be alone. He’d wanted to share his diagnosis with Laney from the moment he stepped foot out of Dr. DiMaggio’s office, but fear intervened. He hadn’t meant to be short with her, but causally telling her he had testicular cancer when he hadn’t come to terms with the diagnosis himself prompted his outburst.

  “Shall we go inside,” Laney said when Raphael made no effort to move. She silently led the way down the hallway into the family room.

  Ray closed the door and followed. He clenched his fists and resisted the urge to grab her and hold on tight. At that moment, he needed an anchor against the storm. With his hands behind his back, he paced the length of the room. It was safer for him, safer for them both, if there was distance between them. He’d promised not to touch her because if he did, the words he needed to say might remain unspoken. He halted mid-stride and stuffed sweaty palms inside his pants pockets.

  Laney patted the empty space next to the sofa where she sat. “Let’s talk—”

  “We don’t need to talk. I-I just need you to listen to me for a sec. All right?”

  Laney folded her hands on her lap. “All right. I’m listening.”

  Ray fused his left hand at the base of his neck. “We need to put the brakes on things.”

  Laney wasn’t shocked by Ray’s statement. Before he opened his mouth, she had a fairly good idea from his subtle movements that what he was about to say wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She didn’t cry. She never let herself do that. Her chest heaved, and with soft, labored breaths, she struggled to control her emotions. “Are you no longer attracted to me?”

  “Don’t go there, Red.” Ray paused. “I-it’s just that the timing is all jacked up.”

  “Raphael, just because you have cancer doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”

  “Red…” Ray sat next to her with his hands clasped between his legs. The only body part that moved was his head. He held her gaze for a moment. “I can’t give you what you need…not now.”

  Laney saw a raw pain, an almost brutal anger reflected in his eyes. She wanted to wrap him in her embrace and somehow help him deal with this situation. She scooted along the sofa until her thigh touched his. She put her slim hand on top of his much larger one. “Darling, you have one of the most treatable forms of cancer there is.”

  Laney’s term of endearment coupled with her staunch declaration of his prognosis was about the only bright spot of his day. Still, Ray knew there were some difficult days ahead. He glanced at her again. Sharing his most private emotions with a woman was something he’d never done. If there wa
s one lesson he’d learned from his years in the music industry was not to put his trust in everyone. Only a scant few had earned his confidence over the years. He squeezed his eyes shut. How had this soft-spoken woman garnered his trust without even trying?

  Did she really mean what she’d told him—that his cancer didn’t matter? Or was she simply going through the motions to make him feel better? Right now, the last thing he needed was a pity party. The light overhead shone directly down on her and cast a soft glow on her head. Ray wanted to release the soft, reddish curls from the comb and run his fingers through it. God, she looked like an angel, his angel. His insides knotted. His mind should be on the fact he had cancer, but it wasn’t. He needed to touch her. Ever so slowly, his hand turned, his fingers wrapping around hers.

  Ray glanced down at the petite hand inside of his. “It was twenty-six years ago.” His voice was low and strained. “I lost my mère to germ cell ovarian cancer. She died in my arms on my twelfth birthday.” He went silent for a moment, then shuddered, the expression in his eyes void as he thought back on that day. “She was diagnosed shortly after she found out she was pregnant with Aimee,” he said, referring to his youngest sister. “She absolutely refused to undergo any type of treatment she felt would put Aimee in danger. Two months after she was born, mère died.”

  The picture was clearer now. Laney knew Ray’s mother had died when he was young. Knowing the cause of her death explained why he feared his diagnosis.

  “Raphael, I’m not going to sit here and tell you I know how you feel because I don’t. Sometimes, we can’t fully understand things until we go through the experience ourselves. Nor will I sugarcoat things by telling you what you’re facing isn’t serious or that it will be easy. I can tell you this. You will need the support of your family and friends to get through this.”