Taylor gave up trying to sleep and turned on the television. But the old Diana Ross movie didn’t hold her attention. Her thoughts continuously returned to her evening with Donald. She’d been missing quite a bit of sleep lately because of him.
At her front door he had surprised her when he made no move to kiss her good night before he left. She was unexplainably disappointed. She had no idea why she craved his romantic attention. In all honesty, she wanted more than the few kisses he had given her. She longed to enjoy the deep thrust of his tongue inside her mouth, the firm pressure of his hard chest against her breasts.
She was asking for trouble! She knew better than to let her guard down. How could she trust a man with his depth of sensuality and blatant magnetism? He was too attractive.
Unfortunately, she had known how painful and crushing if was to experience betrayal. She had lived through that unique brand of heartache. She never wanted any part of falling in love, ever again. Why would she willingly open herself up to that kind of utter despair? No…never again.
Donald was an icon. He was well known all over the country—no, the world. Half the females in America would not consider telling him no if he came knocking at their doors. He was so wonderfully handsome and he was wealthy. How could he possibly be sincere? She would be silly not to think of herself as just another notch on his bedpost. There certainly wasn’t any way of finding out without risking her heart.
No! She would not be used. She was not an empty-headed female whose most difficult decision of the day was what color of nail polish to wear with what dress. She was a hard-working woman. She had been blessed with a loving family and above average intelligence. She did not need a man in her life to feel complete.
But she was all woman. She yearned for a man in her life. She longed to marry and share a home with a loving family. She yearned for a man able to make a long-term commitment and to share a love so deep and strong nothing could separate them. She strongly believed that that kind of love was built, on nothing less than a solid foundation of friendship and trust.
How many relationship books had she read that dealt with the black woman’s difficulty in trusting the black male? Too many to count. Was there a solution to that monumental problem?
She shivered, remembering the seductive allure of his mouth on hers. She still tingled from his deep sexuality. She had responded to him without thought, without conscious awareness. And she knew he had harnessed himself. He had been so gentle with her. She suspected that he hadn’t given her even a glimpse of his erotic depths.
What was it about him that affected her so strongly? She knew her responses had nothing to do with who he was but the man he was. Something very female in her responded at the most elemental level to something very male in him. She couldn’t even name it, yet nevertheless she knew it was there. His closeness had caused her heart to race with sexual excitement. Something as simple as the stroke of his fingertips on her face had heightened her senses. If he had caressed her breasts she probably would have fainted. Taylor covered a giggle at the thought. Donald was dangerous to her peace of mind.
Seriously, what would she have done if he had deliberately set out to seduce her? Gone after her with both guns smoking, so to speak? Would she have been able to resist? Taylor moaned. She didn’t honestly know. All she was certain of was that Donald was a clear threat to her equilibrium. She hadn’t been angry when he insisted that Scott’s decision should be his alone. She didn’t agree with him, but it didn’t upset her as much as it once had.
Saturday seemed to move at a snail’s pace as she went about her household chores. Her heart pounded with excitement when she picked up the telephone that evening and he was on the line. Their chat was not long nor was it more than friendly, yet she hung up smiling. She couldn’t decide if she should go to the game or not. In fact, she was unsure of herself until Sunday afternoon, when her brother and Jenna stopped by for her.
Scott was in great spirits.
It wasn’t until they were inside the Silver Dome that he asked, “These seats are great, behind the Bull’s bench. Now how did you got these tickets so close to the action?”
Taylor ignored him, her eyes on the basketball court as she watched Donald and his teammates warm up. Donald’s brother and brother-in-law were seated behind them. Taylor smiled, quickly introducing them to her brother and Jenna.
She had really tried not to come determined to give the tickets to Scott and let his friends and him enjoy the game between the Detroit Pistons and the Chicago Bulls. It hadn’t worked. When they came by to pick up the tickets and see if she would go with them, she had been dressed and ready to go. She had done what she told herself over and over again she wasn’t going to do.
As she sat watching Donald, her heart raced with excitement and her eyes sparkled. She had unexpectedly looked up to find his eyes on her. Her cheeks were hot when he smiled at her and waved.
Jenna had caught the exchange but Scott had missed it. Thank goodness, he had been busy studying Jordan’s moves. Jenna squeezed Taylor’s hand but she did not comment on it.
Neither Jenna nor Scott had any idea how difficult a decision it had been for Taylor to come. She’d been fighting her interest in him from the first. She was beginning to feel as if she were holding back a tidal wave. Her feelings were just that powerful, that unwelcome. She felt as if she were not only going against, her better judgment, but going against her parents. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop how she felt about him nor did it stop her from wanting to spend time with him.
Her eyes never left him. He was so magnificent, so talented. At thirty-one, he was considered an old man on the court, but his long, strong body moved with such ease and expertise. His coordination was phenomenal, she decided as she watched him play. He knew how to use his powerfully muscled body to his advantage. He was a physical player, willing to take risks unmindful of possible injury to himself. He had her tight with fear on more than one occasion as he went down or took a hard hit.
When he received a vicious elbow in the windpipe that caused him to stay down, Taylor was on her feet calling his name. She was wringing her hands until she saw that he was on his feet again and okay. When he rested on the bench, so did she. This was worse than when she watched her brother play. She was a nervous wreck and was grateful for halftime so that she could relax. She was exhausted and the game was at mid-point.
Once Scott had gone for soft drinks, Jenna smiled sympathetically. “Now you know how I feel when I watch Scott play. I worry about him almost every second he is on the floor. The trick is not to let him guess.”
“I’m that transparent?” Taylor whispered, aware of his family close by.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t want to care about him,” she said in an angry whisper. It was already too late. She had feelings for him that she could not explain. When had it happened? More importantly, how? She had been so careful. She had worked hard to keep her resentment for him firmly in place. Her protective shield had not protected her. Something had gone horribly wrong.
“Do you think Scott noticed?”
Jenna laughed. “I seriously doubt it. He’s into the game.”
“I don’t want him to know.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I need time to get used to it myself. It certainly wasn’t planned, just the opposite, in fact.”
“Hey, guess who I ran into?” Scott announced enthusiastically. “John! John Moore. You remember him, don’t you, Taylor?” At her blank look, he insisted, “You know, Daddy’s friend. He used to come by and help when Daddy first took sick.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember. How is he? His family?”
“Everyone is great. He invited us to come by the house any weekend. What do you think?”
“Sure, why not. Daddy will be thrilled when you tell him.” He’d also be upset that his daughter was fraternizing with the enemy.
Taylor was grateful that Scott was busy entertaining Jenna with stories about, the old friend of the family. She could no more explain why she wanted to keep her feelings for Donald to herself right now than she could fly.
The trouble was, she did not want to care about him…did not want to become involved with him. Despite her best efforts, she had not been able to resist his masculine charm. She wanted to scream her frustration! How could she care about him? She had essentially thrown her common sense out the blasted window.
What about tonight? He was coming by later for their late night dinner. Even though she knew she should turn him away, she could not help wondering if she were strong enough to do so.
“Taylor?” Scott nearly shouted. His sister hadn’t said a word since Donald appeared on the court after halftime. She had not looked away from the guy as she followed his warm up. What in the hell was going on here? “Taylor!”
“What?”
“Is something going on between you and Williams?”
Taylor blushed, ready to cover her face, while praying his relatives hadn’t overheard.
Jenna shushed him. “Must you tell everyone?”
“I don’t care who hears me. This is important. I want to know what’s going on.”
Thank goodness, his voice was modulated, Taylor prayed.
“Leave her alone. Can’t you see you are upsetting her?”
Scott looked from his sister to his lady. Neither one of them seemed too pleased with him at the moment. He realized he didn’t have much choice but to keep his mouth shut for now, unless he wanted to drive home in an uncomfortable silence and probably receive nothing warmer than a cold shoulder later from Jenna. With a frustrated sigh, he returned his attention to the action on the court. Detroit had Chicago fifty-five to fifty.
In spite of the fact that it was one of the most exciting games Taylor had ever seen, with icons like Rodman, Hill and Jordan right in front of her, she had a difficult time concentrating on anyone but Donald. She was so distracted that she couldn’t even follow her brother’s enthusiasm over the game on the way home. Chicago beat Detroit by two points.
They were in front of her home when Scott asked, “Are you all right, Sis?” When he’d encouraged her friendship with Williams, he had thought she’d enjoy dating a celebrity. He’d never considered that she might care deeply for him, possibly fall in love with the man. He didn’t want her hurt. Nor did he want the man playing with her tender feelings.
“Yes. I’m fine. You two enjoy what’s left of the evening. Night.” She waved as she ran onto the porch. She hurried inside, knowing full well that her brother would not leave until she had locked the door and turned on the lights, signaling all was well. She stood in the foyer until she heard him drive away, only then did she collapse on the sofa.
Maybe she should have told him that Donald was coming by later? No, she needed time. For now she needed to sort out her feelings. She had still not quite accepted that, not only was he coming, but that she definitely wanted to see him again. No matter how confused he made her, Donald was good company. She enjoyed the time she had spent with him. He certainly wasn’t like any of the men she was currently dating. They were nothing more than friends.
Glancing at the wall clock, Taylor hurried into her bedroom to shower and change into a pink silk shirt and pale ivory wool short skirt; ivory hose and high chunky heels completed the look. Glancing down, the knee-length skirt had her wondering if it was too short. Gold hoop earrings and her favorite ankle bracelet were her only jewelry. Her hair had been swept up into a French roll, leaving the long graceful lines of her neck exposed.
The doorbell sounded just as she was picking up a three quarter length ivory wool jacket from the bed. Her heart raced with anticipation as she made her way to the door.
“Hi,” she said, nervously wetting deeply rose-tinted full lips as she stepped back to let him enter.
One look at each other sent them both into peals of laughter. Donald was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans and sneakers on his long feet. Once again they had gotten their signals crossed.
“You look gorgeous,” he grinned, pressing a quick kiss against her soft, sweet smelling brown cheek. “Why did you change? You looked so cute in those tight jeans and white sweatshirt.”
She blinked, shocked that he noticed, “You were supposed to keep your mind on the game, mister.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t do too badly. Scored twenty-four points.”
“Congratulations on the win.”
“Thanks. Did you enjoy yourself?”
His pulse raced from the adrenaline still pumping in his veins. It was always like that after a game. Yet tonight was different. His excitement came from being near Taylor. He must have built-in radar where she was concerned, because he could swear that despite the size of the arena, he had felt her presence, felt her cheering him on. She was so good to look at. It was all he could do not to focus on her but to concentrate on the game. He had never had that problem before. Never!
“Yes,” she smiled. Her dark eyes traveled slowly over him, from his dark, rugged face, over broad shoulders down a wide chest to a lean middle and trim waist, heavy, muscled thighs and long, long legs.
She refused to allow her gaze to linger on the distinctly masculine bulge. She blushed at her interest in that part of his anatomy. What was wrong with her? She had no business wondering if she affected him in that very personal, private way.
Donald closed his eyes briefly to steady himself, for he had felt her feminine curiosity and found it extremely arousing. He could think of nothing he would like better than to let her explore his body with her soft, silky brown hands. The thought of her loving him, moving her hands along his shaft, had him so blasted hard he had to light back a hungry groan. His entire body had heated with delicious expectation.
Determined to keep his hands to himself and his mind above his belt buckle, he asked as casually as he could manage around the lump in his throat, “Ready?” The last thing he needed was to let his hunger for her scare her off. He had the entire meal to get through and all he had done was kiss her cheek and he was already indulging himself in some serious fantasizing about her.
He had it bad for her. He was doing everything he could not to let his eyes linger on her wondrously full breasts or her long gorgeous legs. She took his breath away without lifting more than her thick-lashed brown eyes.
How had she managed it? One glance into her lovely eyes and he was rock hard, ready to give her the sweet loving they both deserved. Damn! He knew he wanted more, needed much more. This was not about s-e-x. He hungered to know everything there was to know about her: what she liked, what made her laugh, what made her heart race with joy?
Above all else, he needed her to know him and accept the man he was within. That took time. He had no choice but to wait and hope for the best.
If only he could control his impatience to have her. It felt as if he had waited forever to meet a woman who was not hung up on gaining his name and access to his bank balance. Taylor was real. She was so down-to-earth. There was nothing fake about her.
“Ready?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, handing him her jacket. “Are you sure you are up to going out? Aren’t you exhausted?” she said from over her shoulder, accepting his help with her coat.
Donald was shocked by her concern for him. His heart warmed with pleasure due to her interest. Once they were comfortably seated in his rented Lincoln, he said, “I won’t keep you out late. You probably have to be up early?”
She asked, “What about you?” instead of answering and letting him know that she was an insomniac, thanks to him.
“I have a late flight out tonight. I see so many hotel rooms that whenever I’m this close to home I’d rather sleep in my own bed, no matter how late I get in,” he found himself admitting.
He’d chosen a quiet, out-of-the way restaurant, so if anyone was aware of his celebrity status, they’d hopefully choose not to intrude on their privacy.
“Do you come here often?” she asked, looking up from the menu.
“It’s not fancy, but the food is good. I hope you don’t mind,” he said softly, aware that he was not going to impress her here.
She looked surprised. “Not at all. How are the fried clams?”
He smiled. “Great. The fries are out of this world. Hope you’re not on some silly diet? You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Taylor laughed, shaking her head. “No, but I appreciate the compliment.”
They both ordered fries and clams and a large salad with plenty of thick-sliced French bread and wine.
“Good?”
“Delicious,” she smiled. He was as self-assured and confident off the basketball court as he was on. “How long have you been in Chicago?”
“Seven years. I was drafted by the New York Knicks right our of college.”
“Which city do you prefer?”
“Detroit,” he said with a grin.
“Why? You’ve lived and traveled all over the country. Why not somewhere warm and sunny?”
“Detroit is my home. My family lives here. My roots are here. Why didn’t you relocate to Florida with your family when your parents moved south?”
Taylor shrugged. “I would miss my home and my friends too much. I’m one of those people who enjoy the changes in the seasons. I especially love the spring. It’s always so exciting. The fall is beautiful, also, especially when the trees turn golden.” She smiled thoughtfully. “I don’t particularly care for the winter.”
“I agree.” Leaning back in his seat, he was totally at ease listening to her, able to truly relax and enjoy. She was so refreshing.
He reached into his pocket and placed a well-known jeweler’s box on the table.
“What is this?”
He shrugged. “I saw it and thought of you.”
“No,” she said, not even opening the box. “I don’t want it. I think you have confused me with someone else. I don’t take expensive gifts from men.”
He was surprised by her answer. It was not uncommon for a woman he had been seeing for even a short time to start asking him to buy her things. As time went on the gifts were more important than he was. He had learned the hard way to go slowly to determine whether the draw was him or his bank balance. All too often it was not him. He felt none of that concern when he was with Taylor. He longed to lavish her with beautiful things...things to make her smile. But he now realized he was very lucky she had not refused the roses.
“Okay,” he said, slipping the unopened box into his pocket. He hadn’t meant to upset her, but when he had seen the bracelet he had immediately thought of her. He wanted her to have it, but he wouldn’t push. He hoped he hadn’t unwittingly spoiled the evening.
He was relieved when he reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to anger you. It was an impulse. I saw it and thought of you. It was nothing more than that. Okay?”
She looked at him then, and found herself smiling. “Okay. As long as you understand. I am not interested in what you can give me. I can take care of myself.”
He smiled, desperate to touch his mouth to hers. Instead, he swallowed with difficulty. He found himself confessing, “When I retire from basketball, I plan on buying a home here in Detroit.” he said watching her closely.
She blinked in surprise. “That’s right. You have family here.” Then she returned her attention to her meal. She didn’t want to show him how disturbed she was by his announcement.
“Taylor?”
“I thought Detroit would be too square for you, especially given the kind of life you’ve lived. You have a knack for surprising me.”
“I don’t know. You certainly have thrown me off balance. You’re nothing like the women I generally meet.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Absolutely. You’re down to earth. I like that about you. No pretense.”
Taylor found herself tongue-tied, uncertain what to say. She didn’t know how to be any other way. She put down her fork, unable to eat another bite.
“Had enough?” he asked, making an effort not to caress the soft fingers toying with her wineglass.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Dessert?”
“None for me.”
Donald didn’t want the evening to end, but all too soon they were back in the car heading for her home. He was quiet on the drive, considering her possible response to his desire to see her again, the following weekend.
She surprised him when she asked him in. He quickly agreed, not about to overtook her first open invitation to him. They had entered the foyer when Donald placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her to face him.
“I enjoyed you tonight,” he said softly. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes,” she smiled, unable to look past his dark eyes.
“I’d like to get to know you much, much better.”
“I’m not the one due out later tonight,” she teased.
“True. I do a great deal of traveling. I can’t get around that.”
Taylor was aware of his eyes lingering on her lips before moving down to rest on her full breasts. His eyes were so hot that they felt as if they could burn through her clothing.
“Taylor, if we put our heads together we can find time to get to know each other. That’s if you’re so inclined. I don’t mean to rush you.” He knew he was lying. He wanted her firmly situated in his life, damn it. How long did he have to wait?
“Yes, you do. You’re too mule-headed to take no for an answer for very long,” Taylor said, thinking of her brother.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Please, don’t start putting up those walls again. I thought we agreed to keep our differences concerning your brother out of it.”
“I never agreed.”
“Yes, you did. Why else are we together tonight?”
It was a good question but so help her, Taylor didn’t have a clue. All she could seem to remember was that she did not want their evening to end.
“Give us a chance, Taylor,” he said before he let himself out, leaving her staring after him.