by Nicki Night
As the cochairs of the Chandler Foundation’s board, El and Chris took to the podium to welcome their guests and thank their sponsors. They directed everyone’s attention to the several television screens around the room to watch a video of testimonials from the organizations that the foundation supported. Next a few young people from Serenity’s music program played a beautiful rendition of “The Wind beneath My Wings.”
As wonderful as the program was, Nixon couldn’t wait for it to be over. He had something for Jade after this was done. Watching her grace and brilliance in action filled him not only with admiration, but desire, as well. Nixon became as anxious as a child anticipating Christmas Day. He suffered through the remainder of the festivities until the only people left behind were the family and their staff.
“Come with me.” He took Jade by the hand.
“But we’re not finished wrapping up here.”
“I’ll bring you back,” Nixon said and kissed her lips, swallowing her next attempt at protesting.
“Oh!” Jade touched her lips. She smiled and then shimmied. “Okay. Where are you taking me, Mr. Gaines? Are you being naughty?”
Nixon paused, shooting a piercing look directly into her eyes. Jade squealed and giggled. She looked behind her as if to see who might be watching them slip out, then practically skipped alongside Nixon.
Heading past the winding staircase, Nixon led Jade out on the terrace and down a lush, lit path bordered with winter greenery. He removed his tuxedo jacket and tossed it over her shoulders.
“Woo! Where are we going?”
Nixon looked back at her and winked. She followed him a few more feet. A line of tall evergreens blocked their line of sight.
“Close your eyes.”
“Nixon!” she sang. “What are you up to?” But Jade followed his instructions, squeezing his hand tighter and holding on to his arm to keep her footing.
Nixon reached his destination—the garden gazebo. He guided Jade up the few steps onto the structure and said, “Open your eyes.”
When she did, Jade gasped and covered her mouth. Nixon was on one knee, holding a stunning diamond that gleamed in the moonlight. Nick Sr. stood near Mr. Chandler, while Gloria stood next to El. The rest of the family had positioned themselves around the perimeter of the gazebo, surrounding them. Jade looked around and tears filled her eyes.
“Yes! Nixon. Oh my goodness. Yes. I’ll marry you.”
“Girl!” Jewel said. “He didn’t even ask you yet.”
Their families’ laughter mixed beautifully together. Nixon imagined the joy of the sounds they would create together for years to come.
Jade’s giggles fluttered through the night air. Nixon held her hand and gazed into her eyes. “Jade Chandler.” Nixon thought back to the first day he had laid eyes on Jade, remembered the way she’d made him shiver with just a passing touch. He could feel the tingle from the charge that still passed between them in their caresses. His heart seemed to double in size at that very moment. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?”
“Yes!” Jade bounced up and down on her toes.
Nixon had to steady her hand to get the ring on. She took him by the lapels of his tux, dragged him to his feet and threw her arms around his neck. He kissed her lips and couldn’t seem to get enough. Capturing her tongue in a sensual dance, he didn’t want to let her go. Just that quickly, Nixon had forgotten about their families surrounding them, until they teased the newly engaged couple with a collection of whoops, oohs and aahs. Finally, he released her lips, picked her up and spun her around.
“Woo-o!” Jade shouted, holding up her left hand to show off her ring.
Nixon let Jade down, her body sliding along the front of his.
She looked into his eyes. “You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Seductive Moments by AlTonya Washington.
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Seductive Moments
by AlTonya Washington
Chapter 1
Philadelphia, PA
“See? Perfect security and you’re even asked for your autograph.”
“It’s for the missus, Ray.”
“Sure it is, Ollie.” Rayelle Keats sent a sidelong smile to the third-shift security guard of her apartment building.
“It’s okay, Ollie. It’s always a pleasure to meet the fans...and their husbands.” Barker Grant looked up from signing his name to the pad he held.
Knowing he was being teased, Oliver Leaks favored the couple with a good-natured wave. “It’s true, Mr. Grant.” Oliver’s ruddy weather-beaten face sharpened with distinct reverence. “She really does love your work—matter of fact, we both feel good knowing there’s folks like you on the job gettin’ the facts—the real ones.”
Barker nodded, reflecting a reverence similar to Oliver’s expression. “It’s nice to be counted on for that, ’specially when folks hardly see me on camera.”
“Aw.” Oliver gestured with another wave. “People read those tiny credits the station puts at the bottom of each story—your name’s known, kid, trust me. Everybody knows who it is breaking WPXI’s hardest cases. Most of the viewing public are so in awe of the pretty faces on screen, it’s nice to know one of ’em’s not afraid to get out there and dig for the truth that makes the camera folk look even better than they do.”
“Well, Ollie, I do believe I heard a compliment in there.” Barker returned the pad.
The cherub-faced seventy-year-old responded with a bashful chuckle. “That’s comin’ from the missus, too.”
“Well, thank her for that, okay?” Rayelle squeezed the man’s forearm.
“You two take care,” Oliver called while the couple headed for the elevator bank located behind the wide semicircular lobby desk.
“You really didn’t have to put yourself out like this.” Ray sighed as they approached one of the cars. “You must be just as wiped as everyone else after that trip back.”
Barker’s grin widened against his dark face. “Funny how long the trip coming back from the Bahamas seemed next to the one going there.”
“Agreed.” Ray’s laughter echoed in the maple-paneled corridor. “But that’s my point,” she said, sobering. “You should head on home if you want to get a jump on some sleep. I can handle a ride up to my place, and it’s not like I need help with my bags.”
<
br /> Silently Barker agreed, eyeing the tall yet compact rolling case Rayelle pulled leisurely along behind her. His bottomless stare held the bag only a few seconds before easing back to its owner, where it had been pretty much fixed since they had deplaned.
Since deplaning? Barker allowed himself a mental eye roll. His eyes and practically every other part of him had been fixed on Rayelle Keats from the moment he’d seen her over a year ago across a crowded restaurant dining room. The leggy beauty with shoulder-length deep brown tresses that waved around a face the tone of light coffee had claimed a top spot in his mind ever since. He’d sent his things on ahead to his place, but there had been no real need for such fanfare. No need to join Ray for the ride to her home...
They had returned in the dark hours from the sun and dazzle of the tropics. Still, there’d been no real reason to worry she’d run into trouble without a male escort by her side. At any rate, he’d wanted to... He wanted...
Ridding his thoughts of the uncomfortable truth, Barker focused on her earlier comment. He noticed the expectant gleam in her eyes, which were the distinct color and shape of almonds.
“No one else went home alone. Why should you?” That was his simple argument.
Ray had no comeback for it. Besides, the words were true, weren’t they? The Bahamas trip had been a couples’ getaway, despite the fact that it had technically been two couples short at the time. Linus Brooks and Paula Starker had been on the outs at the onset of the trip, but things had changed quite nicely.
Barker and Rayelle, while not on the outs, were still dancing around the fringes of the crush that had been idling in neutral for almost a year. The Bahamas had brought them closer in a platonic way that told Ray that Barker wasn’t just a respected journalist; with the face and body of a sex symbol, he was a gentleman, as well.
That wasn’t such an outlandish idea to grasp. Barker Grant was, after all, a local celebrity with a name that was highly regarded in national and international circles. The fact that they’d skirted around a strong and mutual attraction for several months was okay as far as Ray was concerned. Something told her that a romance with a woman who was a former-exotic-dancer-turned-gentleman’s-club-manager-turned-dance-school-manager would be a tough sell.
It told her something else, too, or at the very least, made her wonder. Maybe Barker Grant just figured he was intuitive enough to know the word gentleman didn’t quite make the list when one described the kind of men Rayelle Keats invited to her home. Ray wondered how stunned the intuitive reporter would’ve been to learn he was the first man to have made it past her front door in well over two years. He only wanted to help you with your bags, Ray, jeez...
Only...she didn’t have any bags.
The car had arrived with a soft ding, and they made their way inside the cozy confines. Ray felt the case handle leave her grasp, and she saw that Barker had taken hold of it. She managed to smother the sound of her clearing throat, which often signaled her nervousness.
There was no need to confirm that his eyes were on her. She could all but feel the dark, deep-set orbs traveling along her skin. During their trip, she had discovered those orbs had hints of gray swirled amid the otherwise midnight hue. An intriguing asset, not that he needed any additional enhancements. His hair was the same shade as his gaze and waved soft and full over his head. His skin was a rich molasses tone that had Ray wondering if it felt as flawless as it appeared.
Again she cleared her throat and then searched her mind for appropriate elevator talk. All that came to her was the weather. She shivered then, huddling into the folds of her heavy shawl. “Sure is a temperature change from the tropics,” she noted with a shimmer of laughter coating the words.
Barker’s mouth tilted into a knowing smile. “This time of year has my family gearing up for their Christmas parties.”
“Parties.” Ray’s eyes glinted with interest. “Sounds like they really get into the celebrating.”
“Do they.” Barker grinned his agreement. “My mom celebrates her birthday so...it gives everyone more of a reason.”
“It sounds nice.”
Barker didn’t miss the undercurrent of longing in her words. He didn’t pry, deciding to leave that particular task for later.
There was no time for prying anyway. The elevator was quickly making its ascent. “I really appreciate this, Barker,” Ray said.
Barker realized then that she expected them to part ways once the doors opened. When they did, a woman waiting for the elevator gave a start at finding unexpected travelers there so early in the morning.
The warmth of familiarity crept into the woman’s pale brown eyes when she saw Rayelle. That warmth turned into a sparkle of approval when she took note of the man at Ray’s side.
“Well, well, love, this is a surprise. I was just asking security if they knew when you’d be getting back home. I was hoping to see you before the end of the holidays.”
“Miss Amelia, remember I told you I’d be back by Christmas.”
“No matter.” Amelia Shepard lifted a slender shoulder. “I’m happy to have you home anyway.” She pulled Ray into a quick, tight squeeze before stepping back to once again regard her neighbor’s escort.
“I’m sure women try all kinds of lines on you, sweetness.” Amelia tapped a gloved finger to her cheek. “But you do look very familiar. Have we met before?”
Ray shifted closer to the tiny woman. “Amelia Shepard, this is Barker Grant. He works for WPXI. Maybe that’s how you know him.”
“Mmm...no, I prefer WZHY—no offense, hon.”
Barker and Rayelle lowered their heads to shield emerging smiles, but Amelia didn’t appear to notice. She continued to tap at her cheek.
“WPXI...hmm...”
Ray eased an apologetic look toward Barker. “Miss Amelia—”
“Ah! I have it! You’re one of the Delano Grants, aren’t you?”
Ray’s apologetic expression melded into one of extreme interest. She watched Barker’s handsome face adopt a sheepish tint.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said to Amelia and then looked to Rayelle. “Delano Grant was my grandfather,” he told her.
“Well, I’ll be!” Amelia looked tickled and clapped her hands once enthusiastically. “One of the Delano Grants in my very own hallway.” She sent an encouraging look to Ray. “Treat him well, miss. He comes from a very fine family—very fine.”
Though her curiosity was evident, Ray decided to bypass questioning her neighbor. They’d spend the better part of the day in the hall if she did.
“Um, Miss Amelia, are you going down?” Ray asked, allowing the door to bump against her palm for emphasis.
“I am...” Amelia observed Barker with adoring eyes for a moment longer before she snapped to. “Yes, yes, I am, love. I need to get to the market before too many folks wake up. They’re calling for the first snow showers sometime this week, you know? Call it the Southerner in me, but I believe in being prepared.” She took the time to nudge Barker with a brush from her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, handsome.”
Barker gave a respectful nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Shepard.”
“Treat him well, love,” Amelia called while the elevator doors slid shut.
Quiet settled following the woman’s departure, and then Ray shook her head. “Sorry about that.” Laughter colored her voice.
Barker shrugged. “No need. It tends to happen.”
Ray’s curiosity was at its height, and still she fought to tamp down her questions at least until she was inside the much-needed sanctuary of her home. With a sigh, she hunted for her keys inside the deep pockets of her shawl. As sending Barker Grant on his way then was pretty much out of the question, there was comfort knowing she wouldn’t have to search for adequate small talk. Truthfully, that wasn’t something she felt she’d need to worry over. After all, conversation between them had flowed quite freely whenever
they’d seen each other.
Those times however... Ray knew those times were far removed from this one. This time, they were alone.
She entered her modest yet cozy apartment with an apology on her lips. “I don’t have much to offer—haven’t done any real shopping since long before the trip.”
“You could take a page from Mrs. Shepard’s book.”
Ray appreciated the tease. “I’d be afraid to now. She wouldn’t like knowing I didn’t have proper vittles for one of the Delano Grants.” She heard his chuckle and felt herself brace against something unexpected that stabbed her fiercely.
“No need to put out your best china,” Barker said. “I wasn’t raised on that side of the family.”
“Well, well.” Ray pulled off her shawl before going to work on the low-cut boots. “I won’t tell Ms. Amelia that some of the Delano Grants don’t go for all the royalty stuff.”
“My folks didn’t want me growing up feeling entitled.”
“But you are entitled. Your blood makes that so.” Ray shrugged as though the idea was unshakable.
“No...not my blood. It was my great-great-grandfather using his good fortune to get other slaves to freedom that did that.”
Ray shook her head reverently. Her expression was rapt with awe. “It must feel amazing to come from a background like that.”
Barker shrugged. “It might feel even better if more people in my family remembered it instead of the money and opportunity that came later. A lot of my family members make having a family a real headache, you know?”
Ray replied with an apologetic smile. “I wouldn’t. You’ve still got a big family to call your own—a lot of people would love a problem like that.” She flipped on two additional lamps that flooded the room in richer shades of gold. It was then that she noticed how much more intense his gaze had become. “Could I get you something?” she offered. “Tea? I’ve got coffee but no cream.”
