His Loving Caress

by Candace Shaw

  “Not fate. His sister Syd told him. I didn’t have a chance to tell her not to do otherwise, even though I had hoped she wouldn’t. He’ll be at the auction tonight as well so I guess I would’ve run into him anyway. I haven’t spoken to the man since our rehearsal dinner years ago, and now I’ll have the pleasure of seeing him twice in one day,” she said sarcastically, running her hand through her thick tresses. “Lucky me.”

  “You know your hair would look wonderful in a swept up, tousled style along with your diamond choker and diamond hoops from Harry Winston. Showcase your regal neck.”

  “Mmm...that’s a great idea. Just make sure the makeup artist you set up has makeup to cover up this.” Elle lifted her hair up and turned her back to Mya. “Look at the fine print directly below my hairline.” She ran her finger along the back of her neck.

  “BC? You had his initials tattooed? That seems so out of character for you. Don’t take this the wrong way Ms. Lauren, but you’re so conservative and reserved.”

  “I was a freshman in college.”

  “Aww, you were in love,” Mya said in a sing-song voice.

  “No. I was young, immature and head over heels in puppy love. That’s all.”

  “And yet you still have it. You know you can have it lasered off, right?” Mya teased.

  “Well, not before tonight. Just call her and also the hair stylist with the change of hairstyles. I’d told him I wanted it straight down my back.”

  “No problem. I’ll call them now.” Mya swiped her cell phone and iPad from the coffee table and retreated toward the bedroom door. However, she halted and turned around with an inquisitive expression. “Does he have one with your initials?”

  “He had my first name intertwined with a treble clef over his heart. We got them together during spring break.”

  “I wonder if he still has it.”

  “I’m certainly not going to find out.” Even though now she was slightly curious. However, he had numerous girlfriends over the years including one that seemed quite serious according to the tabloids. There was no way he’d kept it with all those women chasing after him. The only reason her boyfriends hadn’t asked for the removal of hers was because she lied and said the initials meant “bold and confident.”

  “Bring all of the evening gowns and shoe choices out when you’re done.”

  “Will do.”

  Resting her head on the back of the couch, Elle closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Yes, she was fully aware she could have had the tattoo lasered off and had gone in twice to have it done. The first time she chickened out because she was told it would hurt and would take a couple of sessions for it to be fully removed. The second time, she was in one of her melancholy moods over Braxton and simply couldn’t go through with it. It was one of the few reminders of him she had left, along with a CD he’d given her in college. Everything else was packed up in a chest at her parents’ home, including her engagement ring that he’d refused to take back.

  She rarely thought about covering the tattoo because she usually wore her hair down and very few people were aware she had it. If Braxton wasn’t going to be in attendance at the auction, covering it with makeup wouldn’t have crossed her mind because the diamond choker was more than likely wide enough. However, she didn’t want to take any chances that Braxton would see it and assume she’d kept it because she still had feelings for him. But deep down she knew her reasons, even if she hated to admit them to herself. She’d never stopping loving him no matter how hard she’d tried, but she had been able to move on with her life without him. He rarely crossed her mind except the times when the orchids would arrive, and she’d withdraw for a day. But she’d bounce back every time and keep living. Now seeing him again had rustled up buried feelings. While she was curious as to what he needed to say, Elle feared the longings she had for him over the years would resurface, and she’d cave in to her desires just to feel his loving caress again.

  * * *

  Entering the ballroom, Braxton unbuttoned his Elle Lauren tuxedo coat and spotted his twin sisters waving to him from a table in the front of the room. He waved back and proceeded to search for Elle but there was no sign of her. The wedding dress she’d mentioned was on a mannequin on the stage along with his piano and other items for the auction. The cocktail hour had begun and there weren’t many guests in attendance yet. He nodded and spoke to a few people he knew and then headed to the bar where he spotted his cousin Preston Chase wearing a wide grin as he typed something rapidly on his cell phone. Knowing him, it was one of his many female friends. Preston was one of Atlanta’s most sought-after bachelors having made his millions from developing popular video games for cell phones, tablets and computers.

  “What’s up, man?” Braxton greeted. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Preston tore his eyes away from the screen. “Hadn’t planned on it. Tiffani asked me to donate something at the last minute. She’s the chairperson over the scholarship fundraiser and has an astronomical goal in mind.”

  Nodding, Braxton read over the list of drinks that were being offered on a small easel on the bar. “You know your baby sister wants whatever event she is associated with to be a success.”

  “Of course. She’s a Chase. We all have Grandmamma Chase’s perfectionist trait in us.”

  The gentlemen ordered their drinks and strolled over to the stage to peruse the items for the auction. Braxton sipped his brandy while every now and then glancing back at the entrance to see if and when Elle would arrive. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she’d reentered his life. During their years apart, when she crossed his mind, he could find something to do in order to distract himself. Now that he’d seen her beautiful face again in person, no matter what he tried, it was a waste of effort.

  Braxton’s eyes landed once more on the wedding gown. It was exquisite. He hated that he never saw Elle glide down the aisle in the gown she’d created and sewn herself for their wedding. He remembered her being thrilled and exhausted when she’d finally finished it along with five bridesmaids’ dresses a week before their big day was supposed to happen. She’d been bubbly and overanxious for him to see her masterpiece because she’d designed it with him in mind.

  He’d followed her career once she returned to the United States and began working for a famous fashion house in New York City until she took a chance and created her own line. She’d stated in a bridal magazine article that she loved designing wedding gowns because she wanted to be a part of a bride’s happily-ever-after ever since her ex had been a no-show on her wedding day. Reading that part of the interview made him feel like a jerk. However, it had boosted her sales because every woman wanted a dress designed by the jilted designer.

  The men continued browsing the items and Braxton came across a few things he considered bidding on. “So what did you donate?” He hadn’t noticed Preston’s name on any of the items.

  A sly smile emerged across Preston’s face. “A date with me.” He stroked his goatee. “I figure they can start the bidding at around five. Heck, maybe even ten.”

  “Yeah, five bucks sounds about right,” Braxton joked, patting his cousin on the back and then tilting his head toward some of the women who were around his mother’s age. “I’m sure some of the golden-ager sorors would love to have a young cub.”

  “You’re not funny, cuz, and I meant five thousand dollars.”

  “Well, good luck with that. What about Rhonda?”

  Preston’s face wrinkled with puzzlement. “Who?”

  “The young lady you brought by the club last week who sat in your lap, fed you and nibbled on your ear all night.”

  “Nah, man. She’s just one of my honeys in rotation. Nothing serious. Once I leave here, I’m jetting over to this chick’s place for a late-night skinny dip in her pool. It was over eighty degrees today.”

  “Well,
it is the middle of June in Hot Atlanta. It’s only going to get hotter.”

  “I’m still beating you on the golf course this summer no matter what.” Preston glanced at his watch. “I need this shindig to start so I can go.” He downed his scotch and licked his tongue across his lips, slamming the empty glass on a nearby highboy. “Damn, on second thought, I may need to stay awhile longer. The honey dip that just strutted in is fine, and she’s looking this way. I should just give her twenty-five thousand right now so she can bid on me. Oh, it’s definitely going to be a hot summer.” Rubbing his hands together, Preston tilted his head in her direction.

  Braxton turned around to see who his cousin’s next conquest was going to be only to discover Elle saunter into the room. And she was indeed fine as Preston had stated. The straight black dress encased her body as if it was created for only her to wear—which it probably was. Her windswept updo brought out her mesmerizing eyes, her swan-like neck and the diamond choker that was a reminder of how refined and classy she’d become. His gaze jerked to the slit that stopped midthigh that showcased her smooth, honey-coated legs. His thoughts travelled to the times when her legs were wrapped around his waist or entangled with his while they made love. Her legs, especially her thighs, had always been one of his favorite places to explore. Did she purposely wear that dress? Her eyes lingered on him for a second before turning to the hostess with a pleased smile as if she knew he was tempted. Oh, yeah, she wore it for me. And it worked as a strain against his pants emerged.

  Preston tapped his chin. “You know she looks familiar. Do we know her?”

  “That’s Elle.”

  “Your ex? The one that you left at the altar, and we all thought you were crazy and just plain foolish?”

  “Gee, thanks,” Braxton said sarcastically as they headed to their table.

  “Well, dang. She’s definitely all grown up now. I don’t remember her being so...um...curvy and alluring. She’s mighty fierce in that dress. I’m surprised someone hasn’t wifed her up yet.”

  “Well, it won’t be you so stop salivating over her.” Even though Braxton was joking with his cousin, a tinge of jealously soared through his bones. The thought of her with someone else didn’t sit well with him. However, he was surprised she wasn’t married yet.

  “Uh-huh. Don’t worry, man. We’re family. I remember Tiffani saying Elle may still have feelings for you. So what are you going to do about it?” Preston asked seriously. “There’s some other men checking her out.” He nodded toward a few of their colleagues who were eyeing Elle.

  Braxton cracked a confident smile in her direction as he caught her eyes roam over him momentarily before diverting away as if she’d been caught. “I’m a Chase man. What do you think?”

  Chapter 3

  “Are you sure there’s nowhere else for me to sit?” Elle asked the hostess for the fifth time. “It doesn’t bother me to sit at one of the tables in the back.”

  “Nonsense, Ms. Lauren,” the young lady answered, linking her arm with Elle’s and escorting her toward the table where the Chase family was seated. “You’re a VIP guest and you’re auctioning off that beautiful gown. You have to sit up front.”

  Elle inwardly groaned but displayed a smile as she saw a camera flash her way. She could handle being in the same room with Braxton, but when she’d learned she’d be at the same table, it took everything in her not to bolt back to her suite. However, he’d spotted her as soon as she’d entered the ballroom so she couldn’t escape. She had to remain composed and unbothered by his presence at least on the outside. On the inside her heart couldn’t stop doing backward flips like an Olympic gymnast. He was devastatingly mouthwatering in his tuxedo and the way his gaze had raked over her like she was a succulent steak, was an indication that it would be a long evening.

  She searched for an empty seat at the round table. Megan was seated next to her husband, United States Senator Steven Monroe. Tiffani, who was a newlywed, was seated next to her husband, real estate mogul Broderick Hollingsworth, and Sydney was between her husband, power attorney Bryce Monroe, who was Steven’s brother, and Megan. Preston and Braxton were still standing, conversing and glancing her way. She retracted her view from them and focused on the twins along with Tiffani who gave a reassuring smile.

  There was an empty seat between Tiffani and Steven. If she could sit there that would be perfect. The other two empty chairs were next to each other. Braxton stood behind one, and she felt his heated glare burn through her dress to her skin. Elle was surprised she wasn’t on fire from the way he stared her down.

  “Hello, darling,” Megan greeted, standing up to hug Elle. “You remember, my husband, Steven, from the fashion show last summer.”

  Steven stood, along with the others. She hugged and acknowledged everyone except for Braxton who chatted briefly with a gentleman about the piano being auctioned off. She was relieved he hadn’t been in line for a hug but as she was about to sit down she felt his presence behind her, pulling out the chair. The scent of his woodsy cologne filled her breathing passages, and she inhaled deeply. She’d always loved being surrounded by his scent.

  “Thank you,” she said politely, trying to avoid eye contact. She slid off her wrap and set it on the back of the pink tulle-covered chair before sitting. Braxton had always been a gentleman, going back to when they were in elementary school. He would open doors, stand when she entered a room and rarely let her pay for any of their outings once they’d started dating.

  “My pleasure,” he answered in a low, sensual tone that caressed a warmth over her skin.

  His hand brushed her bare back as he pushed in her chair. She had to restrain herself from letting out a moan at his delicate touch that she sensed was done on purpose.

  “You look radiant tonight,” he whispered just loud enough for only her to hear.

  She stumbled out a quiet “thank you.” But held in the “you are absolutely scrumptious in your tux,” because those were the words along with “damn” that had come to mind when she’d entered the room and his face was the first she’d encountered. Braxton was indeed handsome that evening, wearing a tuxedo from her mens’ formal wear collection. He definitely could saunter the runway and send the crowd of women and fashion photographers in a frenzy over his smooth, bald head, provoking mahogany skin and muscular build. Not to mention his alluring smile that used to drive her wild when he would charmingly bestow it upon her just as he had when she’d arrived to the auction.

  Braxton sat across from her and began chatting with the men about a recent golf outing. At first she was relieved he wasn’t seated next to her but being directly in his view was worse. Even though he was egging Preston about fishing his ball out of the sand trap, Braxton continued to steal glances her way. She took a sip of her cool water to relieve the cotton that was forming on her tongue and the blaze that soared through her body.

  Being with the Chase family again along with their spouses felt like a mini family reunion. Because she was an only child, Elle had been extremely close to the twins as well as Tiffani. Braxton’s and Elle’s mothers were best friends, having taught at the same elementary school for almost twenty years. She’d found it hard to be friends with the Chases after the wedding fiasco, but the girls were like sisters to her growing up and they had remained in contact. Her only request was that they not mention Braxton in any capacity, which they’d honored. But their silence hadn’t kept her from being reminded of Braxton because a year after their breakup, his first jazz album had been released. It had been a major hit with three more CDs following within four years. He was pegged as the next great jazz pianist of the century and was all over the media. Trying to avoid knowing anything about him had flown out the window unless she stopped listening to jazz all together. But it was her favorite genre of music next to R&B and pop.

  She was surprised, though, when he’d opened Braxton Chase’s Jazz and D
inner Club about four years ago and appeared to place more focus on his business than his music career. It had been a dream of Braxton’s, hence his master’s degree in business. But the goal had been for him to open a chain of jazz clubs later in life. However, as he’d mentioned in a radio interview, he missed his family in Atlanta and wanted a break from touring all the time. Braxton still released CDs under his own label, all of which were platinum certified, and had won quite a few major awards, but for the most part he was out of the limelight.

  “Elle?”

  Megan’s voice jerked Elle out of her thoughts. “Yes?” she asked as upbeat as possible, but unfortunately it came out in a loud manner. When she was nervous she spoke louder and faster. She decided to make a forced effort to remain calm especially when she caught Braxton’s curious eyes on her, and took a sip of her water.

  “I know you don’t have a baby’s line, but Steven and I would so love for you to design the christening dresses for Layla and Madelyn.”

  “I would be honored to design the twins’ dresses,” she answered, relieved that she sounded almost normal despite the fact that her stomach churned into a tight Boy Scout knot when Braxton had glimpsed her way. “When is their christening?”

  “We’re looking at the beginning of fall before Steven has to go back to Washington, DC.”

  “No problem. I’ll be here until the end of the week working with a client, but I can definitely meet with you before leaving.”

  Elle noted Braxton raise an eyebrow though he continued his conversation with the men at the table. She cursed at herself for spilling how long she would be in Atlanta, and she knew he had made a mental memo of the information.

  Megan’s face brightened with delight. “That would be splendid, Elle. And you have to come by the house and meet the babies before you leave.”

  “I’d love to. The dresses will be my gift to you.”