It Had To Be You Read online

  RAVE REVIEWS FOR FRANCIS RAY

  NOBODY BUT YOU

  “A story that tugs at the heartstrings.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “Fast and fun and full of emotional thrills and sexy chills. Everything a racing romance should be!”

  —Roxanne St. Claire

  “Not only does Francis Ray rock in this book but you also see a whole different side of racing that will keep you on the edge of your seat.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  “A wonderful read.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  UNTIL THERE WAS YOU

  “Ms. Ray has given us a great novel again. Did we expect anything less than the best?”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4 stars)

  “Crisp style, realistic dialogue, likable characters, and [a] fast pace.”

  —Library Journal

  MORE. . .

  THE WAY YOU LOVE ME

  “A romance that will have readers speed-reading to the next tension-filled scene, if not the climax.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Fans of Ray’s Grayson and Falcon families will be thrilled with the first installment in the new Grayson Friends series. And this is done very well…told with such grace and affection that this novel is a treat to read.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4 stars)

  “Francis Ray is, without a doubt, one of the Queens of Romance.”

  —A Romance Review

  ONLY YOU

  “Francis Ray’s graceful writing style and realistically complex characters give her latest contemporary romance its extraordinary emotional richness and depth.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “It’s a joy to read this always fresh and exciting saga.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4 stars)

  “The powerful descriptive powers of Francis Ray allow the reader to step into the story and become an active part of the surrender. . . . If you love a great love story, Only You should be on your list.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “Riveting emotion and charismatic scenes that made this book captivating . . . a beautiful story of love and romance.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  “A beautiful love story as only Francis Ray can tell it.”

  —Singletitles.com

  “Readers will find a warm and wonderful contemporary romance with plenty of humor and drama. Adding a fun warmth and reality to these characters and a plot that moves quickly add all the needed incentive to read this fun book.”

  —Multicultural Romance Writers

  IRRESISTIBLE YOU

  “A pleasurable story…a well-developed story and continuous plot.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “Like the previous titles in this series, Irresistible You is another winner…Witty and charming…Author Francis Ray has a true gift for drawing the reader in and never letting them go.”

  —Multicultural Romance Writers

  DREAMING OF YOU

  “A great read from beginning to end, it’s even excellent for an immediate re-read.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “An immensely likable heroine, a sexy man with a heart of gold, and touches of glitz and color, [this] is as unapologetically escapist as Cinderella. Lots of fun.”

  —BookPage

  YOU AND NO OTHER

  “The warmth and sincerity of the Graysons bring another book to life….delightfully realistic.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Astonishing sequel…the best romance of the new year…the Graysons are sure to leave a smile on your face and a longing in your heart for their next story.”

  —ARomanceReview.com

  “There are three more [Grayson] children with great love stories in the future.”

  —Booklist

  SOMEONE TO LOVE ME

  “Another great romance novel.”

  —Booklist

  “The plot moves quickly, and the characters are interesting.”

  —Romantic Times

  “The characters give as good as they get, and their romance is very believable.”

  —All About Romance

  ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS TITLES

  BY FRANCIS RAY

  THE GRAYSONS OF NEW MEXICO SERIES

  Until There Was You

  You and No Other

  Dreaming of You

  Irresistible You

  Only You

  GRAYSON FRIENDS SERIES

  The Way You Love Me

  Nobody But You

  One Night with You

  Someone to Love Me

  I Know Who Holds Tomorrow

  Rockin’ Around That Christmas Tree

  (with Donna Hill)

  ANTHOLOGIES

  Rosie’s Curl and Weave

  Della’s House of Style

  Welcome to Leo’s

  Going to the Chapel

  Gettin’ Merry

  IT HAD TO

  BE YOU

  Francis Ray

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks

  NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  IT HAD TO BE YOU

  Copyright © 2010 by Francis Ray.

  Cover photograph © Shirley Green

  All rights reserved.

  For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  ISBN: 978-0-312-36507-3

  Printed in the United States of America

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / May 2010

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Lovingly dedicated to the dynamic team, Willis Johnson and Alecia Thompson, with the Willis Johnson Morning Show on KKDA AM radio in Dallas. Willis, AKA Crooner, never forgets to mention my new titles. Alecia invited me to be the inaugural author with her book club. When I needed a record producer to give authenticity to this book, Alecia located two. Time and time again, they have been there for me whether by having me as a guest on their show or by letting their listeners know my books are available. I deeply appreciate them.

  Acknowledgments

  Kristie B., recording artist and record producer. Thank you so very much for inviting me into your studio and showing me all the intricacies of making a record. It was fantastic. You are incredibly talented. Please look for her CD.

  Michael Smoot, orchestra teacher with the Dallas Independent School District. Your knowledge of different musical instruments is amazing. Your students are blessed to have you.

  Rosalyn Story, successful author and violinist with the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra. You gave me a real feel for why you selected the violin, and why you’re so passionate about your music. You play beautifully.

  THE TAGGART FAMILY TREE

  One

  She haunted him.

  There were times when he could think of nothing else. She was passionate one moment, spurning him the next. She drew him, excited him.

  And he couldn’t have her.

  On the telephone in his home office in the hills outside of Los Angeles, Zachary Albright Wilder paced the length of the spacious hickory-paneled room, his anger growing with each agitated step. “What do you mean she won’t work with me?” he snapped. “Deliver me from divas.”

  “Now, Rolling Deep,” Oscar Wint
ers, his agent, soothed, using Zach’s professional nickname. “Forget this one and move on. After two weeks of not taking my phone calls, I was finally able to corner Laurel Raineau’s agent and pull from the sharp-tongued woman that it’s your reputation with women and for hard partying that has Raineau backing off. Her agent said that your image isn’t the kind she wants associated with her classical music.”

  “What!” Zachary came to a complete stop and shoved his hand through the thick, straight black hair that brushed the collar of his shirt. “We’re in the twenty-first century for goodness’ sake! Sure, I go out with a lot of women, but I’d be suicidal if I was intimate with all of them. I couldn’t possibly party as much as the media says or I wouldn’t have a wall full of platinum and gold records I’ve produced.”

  “Just what I told her agent,” Oscar agreed.

  “It’s not my fault the media chooses to go with what titillates and sells more magazines and newspapers or boosts ratings on the radio or TV rather than the truth,” he said, moving across the handwoven silk rug in front of his massive cherry desk. “To have them tell it, I’ve slept with every female artist I’ve ever produced, and in my spare time there are the movie starlets and heiresses.”

  “I tried to tell her agent it was all hype, R.D.”

  R.D., Rolling Deep, the moniker given to him by one of the first clients he’d ever worked with, a hard-core hip-hop artist whose hero was Scarface. The name stuck as Zach worked with more and more musicians who came from the street—or who wanted people to believe they had.

  “Perhaps it’s the name.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t thought about it much. To him, the nickname simply meant he didn’t have to look to anyone to cover his back. However, he was certain no one feared him. It was the exact opposite. When he went out, he was usually swarmed by autograph seekers or approached by hopeful musicians. He’d changed his cell phone number again just last week because of so many unwanted calls. Twenty-four-hour staffed security at the gated entrance of his home wasn’t ego, but necessary to maintain his privacy.

  “But your name is known all over the world. You have the golden, or should I say the platinum, touch.” Oscar chuckled.

  “It seems Laurel Raineau didn’t get the memo,” he said sarcastically. He’d promised himself long ago that he’d never let his success go to his head. He’d seen it wreak havoc with too many lives. Your star could fall even faster than it rose.

  “Forget her,” Oscar said again. “In two months you go back into the studio with Satin to do her next album. She was at Mr. Charu’s last night and asked about you.”

  Zach grunted. The restaurant in LA was one of “the” places to be seen. The very reason Zach seldom went there anymore. Satin had the voice of an angel and the sexual appetite of a succubus. While working with her on her last album he’d flatly told her that if she didn’t stop coming on to him, he was walking. He had never been intimate with a client and he didn’t intend to start.

  He should just move on as Oscar said, but he couldn’t. Despite her snobbish attitude, when Laurel Raineau picked up a violin, it was pure magic. The music drew you, moved you. Passion and fire.

  Laurel was five foot three and probably weighed 110 pounds soaking wet with all of her clothes on. Yet her music was more powerful than any he had ever heard, and he’d listened to and played musical instruments for as long as he could remember.

  For personal and professional reasons he wanted to produce her next album. As a free agent, he was in a position to pick and choose his projects. There was a long list of musical entertainers from every genre who wanted to work with him.

  All except Laurel Raineau. That stopped today. “Did you get her address?”

  “I did,” Oscar answered, relief in his voice that he had been able to do at least one thing his biggest client had asked. “It’s a couple of miles from you, actually.” He gave him the address.

  Zach was moving behind his desk before his agent finished. “Hold.” He pressed the intercom to the garage. “Toby, bring the car around immediately.”

  “Be right there, Zach.”

  Toby Yates, friend, former drag car racer, and chauffeur, was one of the few people who called Zachary by his name. “Talk to you later, Oscar.”

  “If you took no for an answer, you wouldn’t be where you are today. Bye.”

  Zachary disconnected the call and headed for the front door. Ms. Snob wouldn’t find it so easy to ignore him. She’d have to tell him to his face all the crap she’d said about him—if she had the courage.

  Opening the twelve-foot door, Zachary quickly went down the fourteen steps to the waiting black Bentley. Toby was there with the back door open, as Zach had known he’d be.

  “Thanks.” Zachary practically dove inside. He didn’t need a chauffeur most of the time, but there were occasions when he was working on a song, was too tired after seemingly endless hours in the recording studio, or was with a client who he didn’t want to drive. It also gave Toby a reason to stick to his sobriety. He’d been with Zach ever since Zach came to LA against his father’s wishes to make a name for himself in the music industry.

  Zach’s fist clenched. He’d done what he’d set out to do, but the rift between him and his father was never mended before his death.

  The car pulled off smoothly and started down the long drive. The iron gates swung open. He gave Toby the address. He wouldn’t need a GPS system. He’d grown up in LA and knew the streets well.

  In a matter of minutes Toby turned up a steep hill that gradually leveled off. Up ahead was the ambiguous iron gate. Zach felt a muscle leap in his jaw. Toby pulled up until the back window of the car was even with the speaker box.

  Zach rolled down the window and punched the black button. “Zachary Wilder to see Ms. Raineau.”

  “Ms. Raineau is unavailable.”

  Zachary held on to his temper. It wouldn’t do any good to blow. The person was just following orders. “Perhaps if you’d tell her who is calling, she might change her mind.”

  “The answer would be the same” came the droll reply.

  Patience. “If you would please just tell her.”

  “Sir. She is unavailable and this conversation is over.”

  Zachary locked the curse behind his lips. If he ever got his hands on Ms. Snob, he’d have a few choice words with her. He sat back in his seat. “Home.”

  Toby pulled off and started back down the road. Arms folded, Zachary slumped back in his seat. Somehow, some way, he was going to talk to her.

  “Zach, a stretch limo just came out of the gate.”

  Zach shot up in his seat. Sure enough, there was a black limo behind them. The car could have dropped her off or anyone else off or have someone else inside. “Once we’re on the street, follow it and don’t let it get away.”

  Toby snorted, straightened his mirror. “You’re such a kidder.”

  Zach grinned. Toby lived for speed. He might not have a GPS system, but he did have the latest radar detector.

  The limo passed, and although Zach already knew he wouldn’t be able to see inside, he leaned closer to the window. “Can you tell if it’s a car service or private?”

  “Service,” Toby answered.

  The chances went up that Laurel might be in the car. People who were as successful as she usually had a personal driver. They tended to be more loyal and they were on hand whenever you needed them, but Laurel hadn’t been in LA long enough to hire a driver.

  “He’s taking the exit to LAX.”

  Better and better. Zachary watched the limo take the lane for departing international flights. “Ten bucks says Ms. Snob is in that car.”

  “Not this time,” Toby said good-naturedly. “I always lose when I bet with you.”

  Laughing, sensing he’d run Laurel to ground at last, Zach scooted forward in the backseat. “I’ve got you now.”

  “The paparazzi are always hanging out here. You’re going to have to be fast on your feet to get past them,” Toby wa
rned.

  As a part member of a chart-topping band, and now a producer for many of the top musical stars, he received a lot of attention.

  Zach had always been courteous in the past. It was better that way. However, today he had no intention of letting the horde with cameras and mikes slow him down.

  The limo inched its way over to the curb and parked. Toby muscled the Bentley in ahead of a Jaguar. The man in the car laid on his horn in protest. “You better hurry. I’ll circle.”

  Zach was already reaching for the door handle. On the sidewalk he hurried toward baggage check-in for first-class passengers. He didn’t see her until a guy who looked like he could bench-press five hundred pounds and not break a sweat moved to reveal a delicately shaped woman wearing large-rimmed sunglasses, a short-brimmed woven hat edged with black ribbon, a white blouse, and slim black pants. On the other side of her was a twin to the first guy.

  Laurel Raineau. Victory. Grinning, Zach moved to follow her into the terminal. He made it within five feet of her before one of the twin samurai faced him, blocking his way. He moved to step around him. The man moved with him.

  “You’re in my way,” Zachary said.

  The man said nothing.

  Zachary tried to look past or over him, but that was impossible. He was a yard wide. “Should I call airport security?”

  The bodyguard folded his massive arms.

  “Rolling Deep!” a female voice screeched. “It’s Rolling Deep!” The cry was taken up by another and another. If he had miraculously managed to escape the attention of the paparazzi earlier, he was in for it now.

  A crowd converged on him. Cameras flashed. The bodyguard moved back, then turned and walked away. There was no way Zach could continue. People would follow. If he got close to her again, her bodyguards would stop him. He was sure security was nearby, watching to see that things remained relatively calm.

  All he’d need was Laurel seeing him having an altercation with the authorities. She already thought the worst of him. Swallowing his disappointment, he signed any paper and legal body parts presented to him.