If you were my man

by Unknown

  Rafael didn’t choke at the mention of marriage, but he cut a glance at Nathalyia as he pulled into the entrance to her estate. No matter what Helen thought, this wasn’t forever, but he couldn’t imagine not seeing Nathalyia’s smile, holding her, kissing her.

  “If nothing comes up tomorrow, maybe you can come over and I can grill,” she said. “You can park around back.”

  He slowly pulled though the iron gate. There was nothing calculating in her face or voice. He parked in front of her house, instead of doing as she directed, and turned to her. “I want to be with you so much at times I can’t think of anything else,” he confessed. “But this isn’t forever.”

  The smile slid from her face. Her hands clenched in her lap.

  He cursed himself under his breath and took her hands. “I’m sorry. I want to be honest with you. If you want me to take you back, I will, but I don’t want to go a day without seeing you.” She didn’t lift her head. He prayed he wouldn’t see tears when she did. “I wouldn’t be in danger of getting calluses on my rear if I didn’t care about you.” Unsteady fingertips lifted her chin. She wasn’t crying, but the smile he’d come to associate with her wasn’t there either. “Please don’t tell me to take you back.”

  “My bar stools are too well padded for that to happen.”

  He kissed her, rocked her. He hadn’t lost her. The scary feeling receded. “You won’t be sorry.”

  Her smile was tremulous. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Less than ninety minutes later Nathalyia waved to Rafael and entered the back door to Fontaine. His announcement that their being together wasn’t forever shouldn’t have surprised her. No one had to tell her that there had been a long line of women before her. Just as no one had to tell her that he didn’t have to go to such lengths to be with a woman.

  Entering her office, she put away her handbag and went to the window to stare out at the churning ocean. Sailboats were out in large numbers. She could accept him or walk away. Her arms closed around her waist. She simply couldn’t. She was going to reach out for what she wanted.

  There was a knock on her door. “Come in.”

  Rafael came though the door. Closing it, he didn’t stop until she was in his arms, his hungry mouth on hers. Heat and desire fused their lips, their bodies. He kissed her as if she was all that mattered, as if he’d die if he didn’t.

  Lifting his head, he stared down at her. His unsteady hands cupped her face. His incredible eyes stared intently down into hers. “You matter to me. I don’t want you to ever think differently. Believe that. Believe me.”

  Her hands circled his wrists. “I do because you matter to me.”

  His forehead rested on hers. “I’ll be here to follow you home.”

  “This week is going to be hectic. We have private parties every night,” she said.

  “Then we’ll steal time when we can. I’m not walking away.”

  “I think we’re stuck with each other,” she said, her voice shaky. She wanted this. She wanted him for as long as possible.

  “Good.” His mouth lowered to take hers again.

  “Clarice, you’re looking good these days,” Douglas Franklin told her as she placed his second whiskey on the high round table in front of him on Friday night. “I never noticed how good before.”

  “Perhaps because you’re always with a different woman every time you come in.” Clarice picked up his empty glass. Douglas had a lean build and was a regular and an average tipper. Several times Clarice had heard him boast to his dates about his six-figure salary and his 735 Beemer. He dressed well, wore an expensive watch and rings. He wasn’t handsome, but he wasn’t ugly either. Unlike the men she’d dated in the past, he didn’t need fixing. “Anything else?”

  “Yes.” He turned fully toward her and picked up his drink. She caught a glint of gold and diamonds on his thin watch. “How about you and me having dinner sometime?”

  She was surprised and a bit flattered. Douglas’s dates were all thin and pretty. “No, thank you.”

  “Pity. There’s a new club that I wanted to check out.” His gaze roamed over her. “I’d like to walk into Zodiac with a hot woman like you.”

  She felt herself weakening. She wasn’t immune to flattery. “I’ll come back in a bit.”

  Clarice went to check on the next table, and then to the bar to turn in the drink orders before she headed for the kitchen. She paused on seeing Rafael and Nathalyia going out the back door. Before it closed, he drew her into his arms. He’d been there every night for almost two weeks. Sometimes they went out; other times he waited on her and followed her home.

  Clarice missed the impatience to be alone, missed the heady excitement of being in a man’s arms, the laughter, the intimacy. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to go to a club. She’d heard the Zodiac was jumping.

  Picking up the food orders, she served her other tables, then casually made her way back to Douglas’s table. “Is everything all right?”

  “How can it be when you won’t go out with me,” Douglas said, his expression downcast. “I’m a nice guy.”

  “I wonder if the women you date would agree?” she asked.

  “Go out with me and see for yourself,” he cajoled. “We could eat dinner first, then swing by the club. Come on, Clarice, say yes.”

  What woman could resist a man practically begging her to go out with him? “You only get one chance with me, Douglas.”

  “That’s all I’ll need.”

  “I’m off tomorrow night.” She gave him her address. “I’ll be ready at eight.”

  “You won’t regret it, baby,” he said, leaving a twenty to pay for a fifteen-dollar tab. “If the Zodiac is a bust, we’ll go someplace else.”

  “I haven’t been to a club in ages,” Clarice said, a bit wistful.

  He leaned closer. “I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing.” Chuckling, he left.

  Picking up the small tray, Clarice went to off-load the glasses. If he thought they were hitting the sheets on their first date, he was crazy.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have accepted. She didn’t have his phone number to cancel. She’d have to go and hope for the best.

  In any case, she’d have to tell Jake that she was releasing him from his promise. She didn’t have a chance to talk to him until it was almost closing time.

  Seeing Nathalyia return wearing a bigger smile than when she’d left, and Rafael taking a seat in the bar to wait for her, Clarice’s trepidation lessened. It was just nerves. It had been a long time since she’d dated.

  She gave Jake a martini order for her customer and decided it was now or never. “Seeing Nathalyia’s happiness, I’ve decided to go out with Douglas tomorrow night,” she said.

  Jake slowly faced her. His hard gaze drilled into her. “You told me to lock you up.”

  “I’m releasing you from your promise,” she said, trying to keep things light. It didn’t happen.

  “Franklin is a phony,” Jake told her, setting the drink aside. “He comes in here with a different woman each time. He tries to play it off like he’s just playing the field, but I think he’s striking out. All of his big talk is just that, talk.”

  “Thinking isn’t knowing.” She picked up the martini and placed it on her tray.

  “I could actually lock you up,” he warned.

  Clarice couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be serious. “Your objection is noted, but I’m going out. Nathalyia made me see that you have to take chances sometimes.”

  “Not with the likes of Franklin,” Jake said. “You’re making a mistake.”

  What he said was too close to her own fears. Her temper flared. “Just because a woman won’t go out with you is no reason—” She stopped abruptly. His jaw clenched, and a muscle leaped in Jake’s temple.

  Conversation around the bar ceased. She’d spoken loud enough for everyone to hear. There wasn’t an empty seat at the bar or at any of the tables.

  Misery welled inside her. She would
n’t have hurt him for a thousand dates. She reached for him. “Jake, I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged her apology and her hand away. “We have customers to serve.”

  Helplessly, she watched him move to the other end of the bar. He wouldn’t stay upset with her for long. They’d been at odds too many times to count, and this was no different. They’d always managed to get past their differences. They would this time as well.

  A little over an hour later, when the restaurant was closed and Clarice was ready to leave for her car, she grabbed her purse from her locker and waited for Jake.

  He’d gone to the back a little earlier and he hadn’t returned. She waved to two of the waiters as they headed out the door. No one except she and Rafael were left in the main restaurant.

  Clarice sent Rafael a tentative smile, then glanced away. She hadn’t been able to look people in the eye since her outburst. Somehow, she’d make it up to Jake.

  Nathalyia rounded the corner and Rafael came to his feet. “You didn’t make your final round,” Rafael said.

  “Not tonight,” Nathalyia said, looking past Rafael to Clarice. “Clarice, you can walk out with us.”

  Uneasiness crept over her. “I’ll wait for Jake like I always do.”

  Nathalyia’s expressive face saddened. Walking over, she closed her hands around Clarice’s arms. “He already left. He asked me to see that you reached your car all right.”

  Clarice brushed ineffectively at the tears cresting in her eyes. “I said something stupid and hurt him, Nathalyia. I tried to apologize, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Maybe he’ll be ready to listen when you come back to work,” Nathalyia predicted.

  Clarice wished she believed that. Silently she headed toward the back door, her misery increasing with each step.

  . . .

  Clarice was ready when Douglas arrived. She’d purchased a new slenderizing black dress since they were going dancing. She usually liked to dance, but she couldn’t get Jake’s stricken expression out of her mind.

  She’d called the restaurant three times that day and asked to speak to him. The answer was always the same; he was too busy.

  Since she was sure everyone knew about their argument, she’d finally decided to let him have today. He wouldn’t be able to ignore her when she returned to work tomorrow.

  The doorbell rang and she rose from the sofa without much enthusiasm. She’d never felt less like going out. She opened the door.

  “Hi, Clarice.” Douglas entered the apartment, a grin on his face.

  “Hi.” Closing the door, she frowned on seeing Douglas in casual pants and a knit shirt. “You have to cancel?”

  “No, doll face.” He took a seat on the sofa and patted the seat beside him.

  She didn’t move. “We’re supposed to be going to dinner and then dancing.”

  “Later, if you’re all I’m hoping for.” He stood, a look of annoyance on his face, and tried to pull her into his arms. “Come on, baby.”

  Clarice pushed him away. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Me? It’s you,” he told her. “You don’t have to play all shy. You know the score.” He licked his lips. “I thought we’d stay in and have a little fun.”

  “You thought wrong.” She opened the door. “Good night.”

  He stared at her. “If I walk out that door, I’m not coming back. A woman like you should be happy I even asked you out.”

  Clarice’s temper flared. “If you don’t get your sorry ass out of my apartment, I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”

  “Now, you just—”

  She started for him. He circled around her and ran out of her apartment. She might have laughed if she hadn’t been so mad, if she hadn’t thought of Jake’s face. She’d hurt him. She might have lost a good friend for a loudmouthed braggart.

  NINE

  Nathalyia invited Rafael to dinner Monday evening. She’d told Jake and David, the assistant manager, that she wasn’t to be disturbed at home unless there was an extreme emergency. She’d grilled swordfish to be served on the patio near the infinity pool.

  She had had guests before, but she never remembered being so nervous. The weather cooperated, and the food tasted as delicious as she’d hoped.

  “Dinner was wonderful. You’re an excellent cook.”

  “Thank you.” She refilled his glass of iced tea. “There’s key lime pie for dessert.”

  “After the two servings of bread pudding I ate yesterday, if I eat the pie today, I might have to lengthen my daily run,” he said with a grin. “As it is, I’m so full, I can barely move.”

  “That would be a shame because I thought we might dance.” Unable to resist any longer, she kissed him lightly on the lips. She loved the freedom to touch him, loved the way his eyes darkened with desire when she did, just as they did now.

  His hand curved around her neck, holding her in place. “With an incentive like that, you can’t keep me down. I’ll even forgo dessert. I know something sweeter.” His lips brushed across hers, then he slid his hands down to her, and linked her fingers with his. Standing, he pulled her into his arms.

  Her body leaned against his. The heat and need built. “I-I haven’t turned on the music.” She picked up the remote control. Soft jazz floated through the air.

  His lips brushed against her cheek, her chin. She shivered. Her head on his chest, she listened to the irregular heartbeat that matched hers. He made her feel sexy, desirable.

  He lifted her chin with his fingertips. “Somehow you make every moment with you—more.” He laughed, shook his head. “I’m usually better with words.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s like everything is new, brighter,” she said, smiling up at him.

  She was such a wonder, so free and open. He kissed her. He only meant it to be a brush of his lips against hers, but she melted against him, pressing her sleek body against his. Need trampled through him. He gathered her closer, deepening the kiss, pulling her flush against him.

  And as always, she came to him, giving him whatever he asked. That kind of complete trust was its own aphrodisiac. He wanted her passion, her fire.

  His hand swept under her knit top, felt her bare skin, the heat, the silken softness beneath. He wanted more. He unclasped her bra, then covered one breast with his hand, ran his thumb over the distended nipple. She shivered, pressed against him, exciting him even more and giving him permission to continue.

  Lifting her into his arms, he quickly went to one of the queen-size outdoor chaises in front of the pool and lay down with her. She was beautiful in the twilight. The sky was a beautiful mixture of pink and blue shades.

  Her eyelids fluttered open. Desire stared back at him. With the sun setting, the gentle breeze blowing over them, he knew it was time. He kissed her again, his hands stroking her body, enticing her.

  He deftly removed her top, watching as it revealed inch after incredible inch of her velvet-smooth skin. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

  “I want to be for you,” she said, her voice breathy.

  His gaze went back to her face again. A small smile trembled at the corners of her kissed lips. Her hand lifted, brushed across his hair, lingered. She gazed up at him with complete trust.

  No woman had ever looked at him that way. It made his chest tighten. He never wanted to do anything to hurt this woman. Yet, if he stayed, that’s just what he’d do.

  He was wise enough to realize that, while he might look at this as another in a long list of relationships, Nathalyia didn’t. Their being together, her lying easily in his arms, wasn’t something she took lightly or did often with other men. The thought of another man sent rage pulsing through him.

  Her smile faltered. She brushed her fingertips across his forehead. “You’re frowning. What’s the matter?”

  One day I’ll leave, he thought, but he couldn’t say the words. His forehead rested against hers. Somehow, she had come to mean more to him than any other woman.

  A dangero
us first.

  Her hand stroked his back, comforting, reassuring, and letting him know she was there if and when he was ready to talk. She didn’t push. Silence and his pensive moods didn’t bother her. She gave him space and let him know she was there when he was ready.

  An incredible first.

  His head lifted. “You’re a unique woman.”

  She laughed. “I hope that’s a compliment.”

  He smiled. He liked that she made him smile. “You know it is.” He kissed her again and pulled her into his arms. She came willingly, turning into him, pressing her soft body against his.

  This time he didn’t stop until both of them were naked. His mouth and hands moved with aching slowness over every incredible inch of her silken body—tasting, nipping, caressing. With each touch the need increased for him to plunge into her.

  He’d never wanted so fiercely. His hands actually trembled as he put on a condom. Staring down at her, her dark eyes glazed with desire for him, his heart actually stopped, then pounded. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Unable to wait another second, he slid his legs intimately between hers and slid into her hot, silken heat—and met a barrier. Shock lifted his head. “It can’t be.”

  “Rafael,” she moaned, moving restlessly beneath him.

  His hands clutched her hips in desperation. “Don’t.”

  “I can’t help it.” She lifted her hips and he was lost.

  His breath hissed though his teeth. Before he could breathe in, he surged forward, pushing through the thin membrane and completely joining them.

  Her nails dug into his shoulders. She spasmed around him.

  “Nat,” he breathed, cursing himself for hurting her.

  Her eyes opened. “Is it over?”

  There was such disappointment in her voice that he wanted to laugh, to shout thanks to the heavens that he hadn’t ruined this for her, that she wanted more. “Not by a long shot.”

  Fastening his mouth on hers, he began to move, surging in and out of her moist heat, letting friction and passion build with each thrust until she clamped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders.