It Had To Be You Page 16

  “Not yet,” she said, her voice wistful.

  He took her hand and stared into her eyes. “You will, and your family and I will be there to cheer you on.” He leaned closer. “However, when we take the gondola ride later in the moonlight it will be just the two of us.”

  “It might not—”

  He squeezed her hand. “It will happen.”

  “After you mastered the guitar, what was next?” she asked, sitting back with her glass of wine. It was good just to sit there and relax with him. He hadn’t said he loved her again, but she accepted they were taking things slower this time. She also didn’t know if she was ready to say the words or not.

  “Any instrument I could get my hands on,” he told her. Picking up his glass of wine, he pulled her to her feet and went down the lit path past the rectangular-shaped pool to a sitting area. “My father was gone a great deal working so I got a chance to practice. Paige never minded all the noise I made.”

  “Your sister and mother adore you,” she said, following him down the path, remembering going to the beach with Zach the first night they met.

  “I’m glad my bad behavior didn’t make them think less of me,” he said truthfully. “I was terrified I would never get you to forgive me.”

  She stopped on the path. “There was a man. I foolishly believed he wanted to be with me and all he wanted was for me to help him get a contract with my record label. I didn’t want to be used again.”

  Zach’s face hardened. “I could tear him apart for what he did to you, then I remember what I did.”

  She placed her hand on his chest. “I have to be honest. If you had told me who you were, I would have walked and not given you a chance to explain. Things happen for a reason. We’re past it and it’s what happens from now on that’s important.”

  “Laurel,” he breathed, curving his hand around her neck, his fingers tightening to bring her mouth closer. Shaking his head, he stepped back. “You push me to my limits, make me forget.”

  “Does that include the woman you had the serious relationship with?”

  He had to touch her, reassure her. His hand palmed her face as he stared into her eyes. “Yes. You’re the only woman for me. She hasn’t mattered in a long time.”

  “You said you weren’t what she wanted,” Laurel continued. “I can’t imagine that.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. Laurel’s face was a mixture of pique and disbelief. “Since my father didn’t approve of what I wanted to do with my life, he refused to help me financially. I wouldn’t receive my trust fund until I was thirty. She knew it, and tossed the ring back in my face when I proposed.”

  “She did what!” Laurel exclaimed.

  Reluctantly he let his hand fall. “The rejection made me work that much harder to succeed. The first year was rough. My lucky break came when the keyboardist at the club where I worked as a bartender was too drunk to play. I took over for him, and when the lead vocalist learned I could play other instruments and could sing a little bit, they hired me. The single we cut a month later debuted in the top ten of Billboard and quickly climbed to number one.”

  “What happened once you made it? Did you call her?”

  Zach didn’t want to talk about Carmen, but realized Laurel had a right to know. “No. We both had moved on. We talk now and then.”

  Laurel grunted. Laughing, he hugged her again and urged her into a cushioned seat. “She has no designs on me. She’s just going through a tough time and needs someone to talk to. Trust me.”

  “I trust you,” she said pointedly and took a sip of wine. “When did you know you wanted to produce music?”

  He sat beside her. “Jimi Hendrix again. I saw a video of him playing and was blown away. I listened to other artists who never came close to his magic. Some, like you, don’t need anything but an audience. Others need direction. Playing in the band was just a means to an end for me. I like being behind the scenes.”

  “There’s nothing like being in front of an audience whether it’s ten or a thousand. The energy is electrifying,” she said.

  He kissed her ear, sending shivers racing over her body. “There might be one or two things that might compare.”

  Closing her eyes, she leaned into him. “You might have a point.”

  He groaned and took a seat on the chaise across from her. “Sorry. I keep forgetting.”

  “So do I,” she mumbled.

  He chuckled. “You make life fun again. I missed that. Missed you.”

  “Then why are you sitting over there?” she questioned, placing her glass on the side table.

  “To stay out of trouble. You’re too tempting and I’m too weak around you. So please behave,” he told her and scooted back farther in the chaise.

  She would. For now. “So you think I need direction?”

  He placed his glass on the side table and moved forward again, his voice animated. “I’ve heard you at a live performance and—”

  “What! When?” she asked, scooting forward. She hadn’t liked that the only time he’d ever heard her play live had been her poor performance in the recording studio.

  “At the Metropolitan Opera and in Boston,” he told her. “You held the audience in the palm of your hand. You were mesmerizing.”

  “Thank you,” she said, thrilled and excited. “But not on the album?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “The last album you recorded is good, but if I close my eyes while listening to it, and I have, it doesn’t compare to either live performance.”

  She made a face. “I know. I like Hill, the producer, and although the albums have sold well, I haven’t been completely satisfied with the finished products.”

  “I want to change that.” He held out his hands, and she placed hers immediately in his. “There are places the tempo and beat are off, the other instruments competing with you. I have some ideas.”

  She was suddenly excited. This wasn’t just a passing thought, as she’d imagined.

  “I had the murals installed because I thought they would help you forget I was there and you could concentrate on the audience,” he admitted to her. “It will now.”

  She didn’t need murals. She had something that touched her just as deeply. Him. She looked up at him through a sweep of lashes. “I was jealous of her.”

  He grinned. “I know, and it gave me hope.”

  She made a face. “Just like a man.”

  “That’s your man, if you please.” Chuckling, he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go inside and make the phone calls to stop all the legal moves.”

  “Once we do that, we’ll be back on track to make the album and it will be official,” she said slowly.

  He frowned. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  Pulling her hands free, she sat back on the chaise and tucked her head, her hands folded in her lap. As she’d calculated, he sat beside her.

  “Laurel, honey, what is it? Whatever it is, I’ll make it right. You just have to tell me.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Her head came up and she reached for the buttons on his shirt. His hands caught hers.

  “Laurel, no. I’ve done enough to you.”

  “I’ve cried more tears than I knew were possible when I thought you didn’t care, ached for your arms around me, your lips on mine. Do you mean to tell me that you’re going to send me home aching and wanting you? That I have to wake up and go to bed the same way for the next four weeks until the album is completed, then another four weeks until it’s released?”

  He groaned and tucked his head, but his hands stayed wrapped around hers.

  “I’ll play better.”

  She heard a strangled sound, felt the shaking of his body. “I’m sorry, Zach, we don’t have to. I don’t want to upset you.”

  His head lifted. He was laughing. “Don’t ever change.”

  Nudging his hands away, she began to unbutton his shirt. “No pressure, but since this has to last, you better make it memora
ble.”

  “With you, there’s no other way.” Kissing her briefly, he pulled the dress from her heated body.

  His heart stopped on seeing her bathed in moonlight, wearing a lacy pink bra that lovingly displayed her lush breasts, the tiny V of cloth that cupped her woman’s softness. He gulped and pulled her back in his arms, his mouth finding hers again, then moving slowly to the curve of her neck, to the slope of her breast. He released the bra.

  Bending her over his arm, he pulled her taut nipple into his mouth, ran his tongue over the point, and suckled her. She quivered in his arms. Her fingers gripped his hair. None too steady, he placed her on the chaise and followed her down.

  He worshiped her, touching and tasting, until both were quivering with desire.

  “I can’t wait,” she breathed.

  He reached into his pocket for the wallet and the condom he’d put there when they were in Mexico. She helped put it on. He gritted his teeth to maintain control. Slipping his hands beneath her hips, he brought them together. She clenched around him. The feel was exquisite.

  He began to move, surging into her velvet heat. Her breathing grew more and more ragged with each thrust. She met him stroke for stroke.

  She whimpered. Moaned. Enjoyed.

  He felt her body tightening beneath his and increased the pace, his powerful body surging into her satin heat, taking them closer and closer to the point of no return. The powerful release hit them at the same time. Their cry of ecstasy echoed through the night air.

  Their lovemaking had been memorable. Laurel still felt boneless as Zach opened her front door and they slipped inside. Since she didn’t turn on the huge crystal chandelier overhead, the foyer remained in dim shadows with only the light from the two gas lanterns on either side of the twelve-foot glass door.

  “I wish you could come in and stay awhile,” she said.

  His hand tenderly stroked her cheek. “You know what would happen.”

  “I guess.”

  He chuckled softly. “I think it’s a given. We’ve called everyone. We’re back on schedule. We’re in business mode.”

  She sighed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day at the studio,” he told her. Unable to resist, he pulled her into his arms again.

  “I don’t mind. I’m ready and energized.” She ran the tip of her finger over his bottom lip.

  He shook his head. “Please behave tomorrow.”

  She tilted her chin and looked imperious and regal. “I’m Laurel Raineau, the perfect southern lady, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I could never forget one glorious thing about you.” His mouth descended.

  Light flooded the room. Zach jerked away, automatically shoving Laurel behind him, thinking that somehow a photographer or an intruder had gotten into the home. His gaze searched the room and he saw a slender woman on the staircase.

  It was worse.

  He’d know Laurel’s mother anywhere. She wasn’t smiling as she’d been in the few pictures he’d seen of her. He hoped he wasn’t flushing with embarrassment. He certainly couldn’t pick Laurel up and rush her back outside to see if all of her clothes were in place. There was only one way to proceed.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Raineau. We haven’t met. I’m Zachary Wilder.”

  “Mother!” Laurel came from behind him and ran up the stairs to the woman, who hadn’t moved.

  “Mother,” Laurel repeated. She wrapped her arms around her mother, seeming to forget that her hair was mussed. Thank goodness she’d worn a dress with twists and pleats that didn’t look like it had been tossed atop a bush.

  “Laurel,” her mother finally said pleasantly enough, but her narrowed gaze stayed on Zach.

  He slipped his hands into his pockets and tried to appear the innocent instead of the man who had just made love to her daughter. Twice. He stared down at his feet.

  “When did you get here?” Laurel asked, stepping back to stare up at her mother.

  “About an hour ago. You didn’t answer your cell phone and the housekeeper didn’t know where you were.” Frowning, she brushed her hand over Laurel’s disheveled hair.

  Zach’s head came up and saw the motion, saw Laurel bite her lips. In her happiness to see her mother, she’d apparently forgotten what they’d been doing. “The top was down on the Porsche,” he said and wanted to squirm when her mother’s expression didn’t change.

  “I’m sorry, Mother, that you were worried,” Laurel said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Mrs. Raineau finally smiled. “Regardless of what you or Sabra said, you needed me. I stayed away as long as I could.”

  “You remind me of my mother,” Zach said. “Her children always come first.”

  “How does she feel about what you did to my Laurel?” she challenged.

  “Mo—”

  “No, Laurel. She has a right to know.” He went to the bottom of the stairs. “She said she wasn’t disappointed in me, but I know she was. Just as I was in myself. She taught me better. There were reasons for my actions that Laurel knows, and thank goodness, she understands and forgives me. I just hope one day you and Sabra will be able to forgive me as well.”

  Mrs. Raineau looked at Laurel, then at Zach. “They tell me that you’re from the South.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Atlanta.” He didn’t know where the conversation was leading, but he planned on remaining respectful. Laurel loved her mother, and that meant it was important that she at least like Zach.

  “Then perhaps you’re familiar with sitting hens. They might look docile until you try to mess with one of their eggs, and then they’ll attack, no matter how large the opponent. They’ll protect what’s theirs until their last breath.”

  Zach came up the rest of the stairs until he was a couple of steps below. “I wouldn’t expect any less. I messed up once, I won’t do so again. She means too much to me.”

  “Words are easy,” Mrs. Raineau said.

  “Mama,” Laurel said. “He means it.”

  Zach saw it would take more to convince her mother. He didn’t blame her. “Would you like to come to the recording studio tomorrow? I can send a car for both of you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Yes.”

  “The car will be here at nine thirty. If that’s all right?” Zach asked.

  “We’ll be ready. Good night.”

  “I’ll show you to the door,” Laurel said, but her mother caught her hand.

  Laurel looked at him with regret and said, “Good night, and thanks for dinner.”

  “Good night, Laurel, Mrs. Raineau.” Zach went down the stairs and out the door. It seemed he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  “Mother,” Laurel said, looking longingly at the closed front door. “I should have walked him to the door.”

  Her face lined with worry, Laurel’s mother turned her around. “That man made you miserable. Are you sure you should let him back in your life?”

  Laurel smiled in reassurance. “Very. He didn’t tell me his real name because I was so adamant that I didn’t want to work with him. If he had, I wouldn’t have listened, and I would have missed getting to know him.”

  Her mother brushed her hand over Laurel’s hair. “But you would have also missed being hurt.”

  “What I gained is so much more,” she said softly, staring again at the closed door. She loved Zach, and when things settled down, she was going to tell him.

  Her mother pulled her into her arms. “Oh, my baby. If he hurts you again . . .”

  “He won’t.” Circling her mother’s waist, they started up the staircase. “You’ll see tomorrow. Zach has my best interests at heart.”

  “We’ll see,” her mother said as they continued up the stairs.

  “Laurel, I’m at the front door,” Zach whispered into his cell phone an hour later. “Can you come down?”

  “Let me get dressed. I’ll be right there.”

  Disconnecting the call, Zach w
aited on the edge of the steps, away from the revealing lights by the double doors. Laurel’s gate was coded instead of staffed, so he hadn’t had any problems getting back onto the property. He frowned at the thought. If he could get in, so could anyone else.

  The door eased open and Laurel, in slacks and a blouse, stepped onto the porch. “Zach?”

  “Here.” Going up the steps, he took her hand and went back to where he’d been waiting. “Perhaps you should have your gate staffed. Anyone could get back in once they have the code.”

  She frowned, then curved her arms around his neck. “Sabra is way ahead of you. The code was changed once we were settled and all of the services had come and gone. Rio asked the same thing. Women can think, you know.”

  He kissed her mouth. “Sorry. I know you’re smart. So, how much trouble am I in?”

  “A lot, I’m afraid,” Laurel said.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “They still see me as the baby of the family. They’ve always been protective.”

  His arms tightened around her waist. “My bad behavior didn’t help. When I recognized your mother, I didn’t know whether to tuck my head or push you back out the door.”

  “Since things are all right between us, and I was so happy to see her, I forgot.” Laurel rested her forehead on his chest.

  “The only thing she noticed was the man she thought had hurt her daughter,” he told her, hoping he’d been right. He didn’t want Laurel embarrassed. “I told you she’d warned me.”

  She lifted her head and fingered the collar of his shirt. “I think she blames herself a little bit because she went to her class reunion instead of going with me. We’ve always traveled together.”

  “I’ll just have to show her tomorrow that she can trust me with you,” he told her.

  Laurel sighed. “She wasn’t this upset the last time.”

  “My guess is that she knows what we feel for each other is deeper. She loves you. My mother . . .” Zach trailed off.

  “What is it?” she asked, her voice worried.

  “I just thought of a way to help convince your mother I’m not playing a game.”

  “How?”

  “Introduce her to my mother.”

  “That’s a brilliant idea.”