He’s her everything—she just doesn’t know it yet

Jacqueline Lawson is a maverick focusing on her career abroad—a world away from the conservative Lawson dynasty. But when the award-winning photojournalist returns home to Baton Rouge after a high-stakes assignment, she’s hiding a secret—one she’s determined to keep.

Raymond Jordan has sworn to uncover all of Jacqueline’s secrets, and her on-again, off-again lover is the only man who has ever gotten under her skin. RJ didn’t follow Jacqueline back to the United States just to let her get away again. The freelance photographer has been by her side in the most dangerous places, and now he wants them to be a permanent team. The passion’s as hot as ever between them. But love means putting yourself in the line of fire. Is Jacqueline ready to risk her heart?

Jacqueline pushed up from the table

and came around to Raymond’s side.

She put her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re going to have a wonderful time, do all those things that families do when they get together and then you’ll fly back.”

Raymond turned on the stool and pulled her between his thighs. He looked up at her and caressed the side of her face with his finger. She lowered herself onto his lap. He tilted her chin upward and kissed her softly.

Jacqueline lightly draped her wrists on either side of his neck and looked into his eyes, seeing the history of their journey there, a journey that she was going to have to end. Her insides tightened.

When had their relationship gone from professional to personal? For several years it had been only business between them. It was the way it should have stayed but she’d made the mistake of letting Raymond slip past her defenses.

DONNA HILL

began writing novels in 1990. Since then she has had more than forty titles published, including full-length novels and novellas. Two of her novels and one novella were adapted for television. She has won numerous awards for her body of work. She is also the editor of five novels, two of which were nominated for awards. She easily moves from romance to erotica, horror, comedy and women’s fiction. She was the first recipient of an RT Book Reviews Trailblazer Award, won an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and currently teaches writing at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center.

Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her website at www.donnahill.com.

Everything

is You

Donna

Hill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader

Thank you for selecting Everything Is You. If you are new to the series, welcome to the intriguing world of the Lawsons of Louisiana! You are in for a treat. This time, I want to introduce you to Jacqueline Lawson, the younger sister of patriarch Sr. Senator Branford Lawson. Jacqueline has been estranged from her family for years, for a variety of reasons. She has not spoken with her brother for nearly a decade. But she’s made a life for herself as an award-winning, international photojournalist. Enter Raymond Jordan, a celebrated journalist in his own right. The two travel the world together. Raymond wants more but Jacqueline knows that she can never commit and the only person who may be able to change that is her brother Branford.

Everything Is You is a tribute to a man whose love for a woman will stop at nothing and who will move mountains to have her. It is about an independent woman who finds that she does need something and someone more. It is about a powerful family, rife with drama, secrets, sexy men and dynamic women. Welcome!

Be sure to follow the entire series: Spend My Life with You, Secret Attraction, Sultry Nights and now Everything Is You. You will also find many of the Lawson clan in my new series Sag Harbor Village, beginning with Touch Me Now.

Until next time,

Donna

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Chapter 1

A yellow cab turned onto South Figueroa and eased to a stop in front of The Beacon Hill Towers. Jacqueline Lawson stepped out into the late, balmy Los Angeles afternoon. The red-vested doorman pulled open the glass-and-chrome door of the condominium as she approached.

“Afternoon, Ms. Lawson.”

Jacqueline smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes that remained hidden behind wide, dark shades. Her maple-brown skin glistened in the June sun. “Hi, Bobby. Hot out here today.” She lifted the weight of her ponytail from her neck to catch some air.

“Yes, ma’am. They say thunderstorms.”

“How’s your wife and daughter?” she asked, stepping into the cool embrace of the lobby.

“They’re well. Thanks. There’s a package for you at the front desk.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” She adjusted her tote bag over her shoulder. Her teal-colored sling-back heels tapped out a slow but steady rhythm against the terra cotta floor. She approached the concierge desk. “Hi, Mike. Bobby said I have a package.”

“Sure do. Would you like me to send it up? It’s kind of heavy.”

“Yes, please. Send it up later. Thanks.” She started off toward the elevator and the room swayed. She slowed her step and drew in a steadying breath. The warning words of her doctor echoed in her head. Concentrating, she walked to the bank of elevators. Exhaustion rode through her in waves. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment and willed herself to remain upright.

The elevator dinged and the polished stainless steel doors silently slid open. A young, very tanned couple exited, gave brief nods and moved past her.

Jacqueline stepped inside, thankful to be alone as the doors closed behind her. She leaned against the back wall for support. She was running out of time and her options were limited.

The doors slid open on the eighteenth floor and Jacqueline pushed herself forward down the hallway that was decorated with fresh flowers on antique tabletops and black-and-white art on the walls. Her two-bedroom apartment was at the end of the hall that she shared with one other tenant.

Once inside she adjusted the cooling system and walked into her bedroom that opened onto a panoramic view of Downtown Los Angeles.

Item by item she stripped out of her clothes and tossed them into a hamper in the bathroom. She took her silk robe from a hook on the back of the door and slid it on, tying the belt loosely around her waist.

She needed to lie down. The simple trip to the doctor’s office had drained her more than she’d anticipated. She stretched out on the bed and then turned onto her side curling into a half fetal position.

That’s the way Raymond found her when he came in an hour later, carrying the box that had been delivered earlier.

He placed the box in the corner near the chaise lounge and quietly approached. He leaned down and placed a feathery light kiss on her forehead. She stirred ever so slightly, murmuring something that he could not make out. He eased out of the room and shut the bedroom door halfway, deciding to surprise her with an early dinner. He took a quick shower, changed into his favorite weatherworn navy blue sweatpants and padded barefoot into the living space that opened onto the kitchen. He crossed the shining hardwood floor to the entertainment unit. The gleam of Jacqueline’s Associated Press Medal for photojournalism sat in its place of honor encased in glass. Every time he looked at it a feeling of pride puffed his chest, reminding him of what an incredible woman she was and the fearlessness that it took for her to earn it. He turned on the stereo to his favorite R&B station.

Since their return from their last assignment in the rain forests of the Amazon, Jacqueline had been quiet and withdrawn. Initially, he thought she was worn out from the grueling three months of the trip or that she’d caught a bug. But she insisted that she was fine.

Raymond pulled open the double door stainless steel refrigerator and opened the vegetable bin drawer. He took out fresh spinach, baby tomatoes, a box of mushrooms and a cucumber and prepared a quick side salad. Jacqueline loved pasta and it was the one thing he was good at in the kitchen. He washed and deveined a half pound of shrimp and then sautéed fresh garlic in a light olive oil. He tossed the cleaned shrimp into the sizzling pan, while the water boiled for the pasta.

“Hey.”

Raymond turned from the sink. He smiled at her still sleepy-eyed appearance. “Hey, yourself. Get enough rest?”

She nodded her head, covered her yawn and tightened the belt on her robe. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing dinner. Figured you’d be hungry. I know I am.” He plucked a shrimp from the pan and walked over to her. He held it tauntingly above her lips. She opened her mouth and he dropped it in.

She chewed slowly. “Hmmm.”

He grinned. “It’ll be ready soon.”

She sat down on the counter stool. “How long have you been here?”

“’Bout an hour or so.” He dropped the pasta into the boiling water and then opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer. “Want one?” he asked holding up a bottle of Rochefort Trappistes 10.

Jacqueline propped her chin up on her hands. “A new one?”

“Yeah, and you’ll love it. It’s a Belgium brew.” His smooth brows bounced.

Besides being an award-winning photographer, Raymond was a beer connoisseur and collector. His house in the valley had a room with some of the most rare and expensive beers in the world. He’d been featured in All About Beer and Beer Connoisseur magazines on several occasions. And whatever part of the world that they traveled he always had to try out the beer.

He opened a bottle and handed it to her. He watched her in anticipation while she took her first sip. Her hazel eyes shifted to a warm brown and her lids fluttered closed as she savored the dark color, full-bodied taste with hints of strong plum, raisin and black currant.

“Hmmm,” she hummed in appreciation, rolling the liquid around on her tongue. She’d always been a white wine and martini girl, but Raymond had expanded her taste buds. In her head she equated beer to guys sharing a six-pack while watching baseball and eating hot dogs. He turned beer drinking into an exotic experience.

Raymond clapped his hands. “Great. I knew you’d love it.” He turned back to the stove, took the pasta off the flame and drained it in the sink. He mixed chopped baby tomatoes, fresh basil, olive oil and ground black pepper, and tossed it with the pasta in a large serving plate. He took the cooked shrimp from the skillet, layered them on top then sprinkled the dish with fresh Parmesan cheese.

Jacqueline got up and took two plates down from the cabinet over the sink. Raymond seized the opportunity of her close proximity to slide his arm around her waist and planted a kiss behind her ear. She moved easily away.

“I’m actually starved,” she said, not looking at him while she put the plates on the counter.

Raymond watched the way she kept her back to him, the calculated way that she placed each item next to the other.

“So…what did you do today?” he asked, giving the pasta one last toss.

For a moment she stilled. “Met Traci for brunch,” she said a bit too cheery. “She asked about you.” She looked at him quickly before turning away.

Raymond brought the plate to the counter along with the serving tongs. “Salad is in the fridge.”

“I’ll get it.”

They sat down opposite each other and dished out the pasta.

“Looks and smells delicious,” Jacqueline said, staying focused on her plate.

Raymond studied her from beneath his lashes. “When are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Jacquie. You’re tired all the time, you barely want me to touch you, you won’t hold a real conversation… Do I need to go on? You haven’t been the same since we got back.”

She blinked rapidly, reached for her bottle of beer but put it down. “Ray…” She pushed out a breath.

“Say it. Say what you’ve been trying not to say for weeks.”

She looked at him, stared deep into his eyes and saw her own hurt and confusion swimming in the dark depths.

“I’m tired. Plain and simple. Can’t I be tired? I’m not superwoman, you know. I’ve been working nonstop for the past year in every nook and cranny on the planet,” she said, throwing her hand up in the air. “And the last thing I need is you bugging me to death about it.” She took a long swallow of beer and set it down then ran her hand through the spiral twists of her hair. She turned her head away. “I’m sorry.” She looked at him. “Can we enjoy this nice meal that you toiled over and talk about something else?” She offered a strained smile. “Please.”

Raymond exhaled a long frustrated breath. “You’re a difficult woman, J,” he conceded. “I’m gonna let it go for now.”

“Good.” She turned her attention to her pasta. “You want me to drive you to the airport in the morning?”

He cocked a brow. “You want to?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. By the way, the invitation for my parents’ fiftieth anniversary party arrived yesterday. The celebration takes place in three months, and I wish you would come with me.”

She kept her eyes on her plate. “I told you, I don’t do family.”

“You never talk about your family.”

“Nothing to talk about.” She stirred her food around in her plate.

“Another non-topic,” he murmured.

Jacqueline chose to ignore the barb. She’d put physical miles and emotional distance between her and her family for years. She periodically stayed in touch with her nieces, LeAnn, Dominique and Desiree, and nephews Rafe and Justin. But she hadn’t spoken to her brother in years. She was not of the mighty Lawson ilk. She made her own name and her own way in the world. She refused to be dictated to by her brother the way he did everyone else. The people in her life didn’t even know that she was related to the royal Lawson clan of Louisiana. And that’s the way she wanted to keep it, including Raymond.

Raymond studied her while he finished off his beer. What happened between her and her brother? She never talked about Branford Lawson and had he not done some digging on his own he would have never known that they were related. Crazy. But he would respect her wishes, even if he didn’t understand her reasons. To him, family was sacred. He came from a large, loving, all-in-your-business family. He couldn’t imagine not having them in his life. But Jacqueline Lawson was a complex woman. It was what he loved about her, but he’d kept that to himself as well.

Jacqueline pushed up from the table and came around to Raymond’s side. She put her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re going to have a wonderful time, do all those things that families do when they get together and then you’ll fly back.”

Raymond turned on the stool and pulled her between his thighs. He looked up at her and caressed the side of her face with his finger. She lowered herself onto his lap. He tilted her chin upward and kissed her softly.

Jacqueline lightly draped her delicate wrists on either side of his neck and looked into his dark almost black eyes, seeing the history of their journey there, a journey that she was going to have to end. Her insides tightened.

When had their relationship gone from professional to personal? For several years it had been only business between them. It was the way it should have stayed but she’d made the mistake of letting Raymond slip past her defenses.

They’d met quite by accident at the National Association of Black Journalists a few years ago, at the annual awards dinner in Washington, D.C.…

Chapter 2

Jacqueline never enjoyed those stuffed shirt affairs. She’d sweltered in them most of her young life growing up in the Lawson household where the sun shining was reason enough to throw a gala. Her mother and father—God rest their souls—were Southern royalty. Her father’s closest friends were those that most people only read about. And her mother was in her glory entertaining them. The Lawson home was and remained the central hub for the comings and goings of the political, corporate and entertainment Who’s Who. And her brothers Branford and David were cut from the same cloth.

Perhaps it was because she was the youngest—a change of life baby, as her mother always reminded her—and a girl, that her father focused all of his attention on her brothers and her mother turned her over to the nanny so that she could conduct her charity events and social climbing.

Jacqueline never felt part of the family but more of an afterthought. So she made her own way, built her own life and over time the tenuous ties that bound her to her family were severed. The final cut being her brother David.

Unfortunately, those once per year events were part and parcel of her business and as reluctant as she was to admit it, she did learn from living it, that rubbing elbows was needed and necessary. And, besides, it was one of the few times that she did have a chance to interact with her colleagues and see some of the important work they were doing and being recognized for.

When she’d walked into the grand ballroom at the Kennedy Center she immediately wished that she’d brought a date. She pasted on her best smile and wandered over to the bar. The crutch of a glass of white wine could hold her up for at least an hour if she sipped really slowly. And if she found a comfortable leaning position or a good seat out of the way, her feet encased in “sex me” heels would last through the long evening.

“You look like you hate this almost as much as I do.”

She angled her head to the right and inhaled a short, sharp breath. Yummy was her first thought before she could respond.

“Is it that obvious?” She arched a questioning brow as her photographic eye took him in from head to toe in one click of her internal lens.

The amazing dark chocolate-brown eyes twinkled in the light and creased at the edges when he smiled down at her. She wasn’t a big gospel fan but he sure could be a body double for the singer BeBe Winans with the dulcet tone to go with the look. And that body appeared totally comfortable and sleek in his tux.

“You have the ever ready wineglass. The casual lean against the bar pose…” His gaze traveled down. “…to keep the pressure off of those pretty feet.”

She bit back a smile.

“And the…‘just how long is this thing gonna last,’ look in your eyes.” He turned to the bar and picked up his glass of Hennessey on the rocks then returned his attention back to her.

“Observant.”

“Occupational hazard. Journalist?”

“Photographic.”

He nodded slowly in appreciation.

“You?”

“Foreign correspondent.”

She switched her wine flute from her right hand to her left and extended her hand. “Jacqueline.”

“Raymond Jordan.” His hand enveloped hers.

He smelled good, too. “Nice to meet you.”

“You have a table?”

“No. Do you?”

“Naw.” He took a swallow of his drink. “I figured there had to be an available seat in here somewhere. After all, I pay my dues and I did get an invite.”

She giggled. “My sentiments exactly.”

“Care to spend the evening with another jaded guest?”

Jacqueline glanced up at him. “Sure, why not.”

Raymond crooked his elbow and Jacqueline hooked her arm through.

They found a table in the center of the room with two empty seats at a table for eight. After a bit of seat shifting they settled next to each other and were soon served appetizers for the sit-down dinner.

Up front, CNN correspondent Anderson Cooper was in conversation with Karen Ballard, who specialized in motion picture photography. Jacqueline and Raymond whispered conspiratorially about Cooper’s possible appearance in a film and they entertained themselves by concocting stories about the plethora of attendees that spanned the gamut of journalism, and swapped stories about some of their memorable assignments.

Raymond was equally as traveled as Jacqueline and spoke three languages fluently, compared to her two. He’d lived in Japan for a year, spent several summers in Europe and loved motorcycle riding.

“What was it like being embedded with the troops in Iraq?” he asked.

“Scary. But I knew that they wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I was there to do a job and they respected that.” She glanced off.

“Must have been tough. The things you saw…”

She nodded. “It was.” She turned and looked into his eyes. “The sad part is, I’ve seen and photographed worse.”

“I know. In this business when you think you’ve seen everything there’s one more thing that sucks the air out of your lungs.”

“Fortunately, there’s still some beauty left in the world.”

“Fortunately,” he said and raised his glass to her, his gaze moving with appreciation across her face.

After a long line of award-winners and acceptance speeches, the event wound down to a glittering close.

Jacqueline and Raymond made their way out through the throng of bodies.

“Going to the after party?” Raymond asked once they were outside.

“Oh no,” she said, waving her hand. “I’ve had enough party people to last me at least until this time next year.”

Raymond chuckled. “Live here or staying in town?”

“Actually, I’m only here until tomorrow. I fly out in the morning. Off to Israel for the next month.”

“Busy lady. Where do you call home?”

She hesitated for a moment. Louisiana was where she was born but it hadn’t been home for a very long time. “California.”

His head jerked back in surprise. “Me too.”

“That’s just a pickup line, right?”

“No.” He chuckled. “Seriously. I moved out there about a year ago from Maplewood, New Jersey. I’m in San Fernando Valley. Been there about two years now.”

“Hmmm. Small world.”

“Maybe we can get together the next time we’re in the same time zone.”

Jacqueline offered a half smile. She lifted her arm to signal for the next taxi in line.

A cab pulled up in front of them. Raymond stepped forward and opened the door for her. She ducked in the cab.

Raymond stuck his head in. “Safe travels, pretty lady. Thanks for spending the evening with me.”

There was no room in her life for a man like Raymond, for any man or anyone. She didn’t stay put long enough for a relationship to have any meaning. And there was no point in opening the door to something that would never get a chance to cross the threshold.

“Take care,” she said and for a brief instant, she wished things could be different, but they weren’t.

Raymond gave her a wistful parting smile, shut the door and stepped back.

She watched him in the rearview mirror until the cab turned the corner. She was sure that was the last time she would see him and in the ensuing months she often wondered what part of the world he was in. Sometimes she would run across his byline only to realize that he was a half a world away.

And then one day, there he was in the Khan el-Khalili market in Cairo, thousands of miles away from where they’d met nearly a year earlier.

“Ray?” She approached from his right. He turned and swiped his dark shades from his eyes. His grin spread like the sun rising over the ocean and moved through her.

“Jacquie, what in the world…”

She giggled like a schoolgirl. “You stole my line.”

He tossed his head back and laughed from deep in his belly. “This is one of those crazy surprises…a good one,” he added. He put down the bolt of white cotton that he’d been considering purchasing. “You look…different.” He’d memorized her in the clinging off-white cocktail dress that flirted with her knees and showed off incredible legs. The diamonds at her throat and wrist, the way the dip of the dress teased the senses with hints of what lay beneath. Her scent that he couldn’t get out of his head…and those eyes. Those eyes. And that lush full mouth. And now she looked like a gorgeous cover-model for college girls with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, a khaki baseball cap, T-shirt that barely contained those lush breasts and khaki shorts. Totally delicious.

“Must be the sneakers,” she teased.

He snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” He stepped closer. “How long are you here for?”

“At least another two weeks. You?”

“Me too. I’m on assignment to cover the Summit.”

“So am I,” she said, inexplicably happy.

“Have any free time on your schedule? Maybe we can have dinner or do the tourist thing.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Semiramis Intercontinental.”

“I’m at the Atlas Zamalek. Are you free later tonight?”

“I have to caption some photos, but that should only take a few hours. How about eight?”

“No problem. I’ll come by your hotel.”

She bobbed her head. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She took a step back. “I, uh, have some errands to run so…I’ll see you at eight.”

“Eight.”

She turned to leave.

“Hey, Jacquie.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “You never told me your last name.”

“Lawson.”

Chapter 3

“Hey,” Raymond said softly, moving his head back and forth in front of her.

Jacqueline blinked away the past and Ray came back into focus. She forced a smile.

“Where did you just go?”

She blew out a breath and shook her shoulders a bit. “I just realized that I didn’t get to open my package.” She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come, I want to show you.”

“Is it more equipment, J?” How many times had he watched her face light up when she discovered a new use for a lens or composed a picture a different way or purchased the latest waterproof camera? And how many times had he wished that he’d see the same kind of excitement in her eyes for him? It came only in flashes, nothing ever sustained. And when it did, she would shut it down, turn off the lights as if she was afraid he would see whatever it was that she was trying to hide.

“Hush, and just come on.”

They trooped into her bedroom and she went over to the box that Raymond had placed in the corner.

She duckwalked it over to the side table near the bed. “It isn’t heavy, just awkward.” Her long slender fingers quickly stripped the box of the securing tape and pulled open the flaps.

Reverently she reached inside and took out the first box that contained the jaw-dropping Canon EOS 5D Mark III. Gently she removed it from its packaging and placed it on the table. The second box contained the equally spectacular new Nikon D800. Even Raymond had to admit he was impressed. These were top-of-the-line cameras and together cost more than six thousand dollars.

The remaining contents were a camera bag, lenses and memory cards. Where many women splurged on clothes and shoes, Jacqueline poured her extra cash on photographic equipment. She said it was an investment in her business. And she was right. Her equipment alone was worth millions and she had the perfect piece ready for any assignment. Not only did she purchase the latest in photographic equipment, she was a collector of antique cameras as well. She had one room of her three-bedroom condo dedicated to her equipment.

“Impressive,” Raymond murmured in appreciation. He picked up the Nikon and held it up to his face, adjusting the lens to take in the room. The powerful lens brought the skyline of Los Angeles into sharp relief.

“Nice,” he said, drawing out the word. “Very nice.” He gingerly put the camera down and turned to Jacqueline, who was examining the Canon.

She glanced up at him. There was that smile, but he knew it wasn’t for him but for her toys.

“At some point you are going to run out of space,” he teased.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing.” She shrugged off the prospect. Running out of space would mean either giving up some of her toys or moving. She didn’t relish either idea. She’d been approached on several occasions to donate some of her antique cameras to museums. That was always an option.

A shadow slowly crept over the room as if the lights were dimmed, followed by a bright flash of light just above the skyline. Jacqueline gasped at the boom that sounded like the bombs they’d both heard and lived through in war torn countries.

She momentarily shut her eyes against the frightening noise. Raymond hurried over to the French doors that were blown open onto the terrace. He fought against the wind and lashing rain that ferociously beat down everything in its path, to get the doors closed.

He managed to pull the doors shut but not without a cost. He turned slowly around.

Jacqueline hid her giggle behind her hand. Just that quickly he was drenched from head to foot.

“Let me get you a towel.” She scampered off to the linen closet and brought back a towel, to find Raymond pulling his T-shirt over his head and stepping out of his damp sweatpants.

There was nothing to say about Ray’s physique other than perfection. He was toned from his workouts but also from the hard and fast life that he lived. Traversing mountains, slicing his way through tropical jungles, treading across rushing rivers were all as common to him as another man who went to the office in a suit and tie.

She wished that she could say that was the only attraction, that it was only physical. It wasn’t. That’s what made this all so painfully hard. Would she ever stop wanting him, needing him? Her chest tightened while a flash of how empty her life would be without Raymond in it ran through her.

She walked up to him and tenderly stroked his face with the towel, then across his broad shoulders and down his bare chest.

Raymond clasped her by the wrists and pulled her flush against him.

“When am I ever going to stop wanting you,” he growled deep in his throat. He cupped her face in his hands and swept down to kiss her. A hungry longing roared through him the way it always did when he touched her.

Jacqueline moaned against his mouth. Her body instantly responded to the fire that he lit in her belly. She moved closer, parted her lips to let him in. She wrapped her arms around him, giving in to her need this one last time. Her heart thundered as the rain pounded against the windows.

Raymond lifted her off her feet and walked with her to her bed.

It was all so familiar yet different every time that he touched her, made her body come alive in new ways. Her skin sang beneath his fingertips and her insides vibrated with desire. His mouth was hot and wet and everywhere that it touched it set her ablaze.

When he entered her, the world came apart in a million little pieces. And with each thrust, every kiss, touch and moan the pieces came together and exploded again and again.

The sky lit up beyond them and her body swirled around him like the wicked wind and his love poured into her like the falling rain.

Jacqueline fought back her tears and held him to her, listening to the familiar beat of his heart, knowing that this was the last time.

Chapter 4

Raymond slung his carry-on over his shoulder as he stepped out of Jacqueline’s midnight blue Mercedes sports coup. She popped the trunk and he came around to the back of the car and took out his bag and laptop. Jacqueline met him on the curb. Frenzied travelers swirled around them. Traffic cops and security personnel waved cars along the busy drop off lane and warned the drivers of parked vehicles to move it along. She looked up at him, hooking her thumbs into the loops of his jeans.

“Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” he said with a catch in his throat. He gave her a lopsided grin.

“What fun would that be?” she teased.

He slowly lowered his head, and brushed his lips against hers.

Jacqueline’s heart thundered and guilt welled up in her throat. She longed to tell him but she couldn’t do that to him. It was best this way. Her eyes burned. She blinked away the threat of tears.

Raymond stepped back and tenderly stroked her cheek. “See you in a week. What should I bring you from Indonesia?”

“Surprise me,” she managed over the knot in her throat. She wiped away the gloss of her lipstick from his lips with the pad of her thumb. “You’re going to miss your flight.”

He kissed her one last time before grabbing the bag. He turned toward the revolving doors.

“Ray…”

He turned. Tell him, her conscience whispered. The words stuck in her throat. “Have a safe trip,” she uttered instead.

His smile made his eyes crinkle in the corners. “I will.” And then he was gone, swallowed up in the mass of humanity.

Jacqueline stood there until a security officer told her to move or get her car towed. With a heavy heart she rounded the front of her car, slid behind the wheel and pulled off.

* * *

Jacqueline took a sip of her apple martini. The bar was crowded, but that was to be expected on a Thursday night. The live band had begun their first set when Traci walked in. She stood and waved above heads and shoulders to get Traci’s attention.

Traci Desmond was an independent documentary filmmaker. They’d met more than fifteen years ago when they were students at New York University. They had the same media arts class and they hit it off from day one. They’d been friends ever since. Traci was the sister she never had and the only person she trusted enough with her darkest secrets. Traci had been there for Jacqueline through it all, as Jacqueline was for her.

“Hey, girl.” Traci kissed Jacqueline’s cheek and slid onto the seat opposite her. “Busy night, I see.” She placed her purse on her lap. “Ray get off okay?”

Jacqueline nodded and took a sip from her drink.

“You still didn’t tell him you were going to your niece’s wedding, I take it? Or anything else of importance.”

“No.”

Traci blew out a breath of frustration. “J, I love you. You know that, but I swear I do not understand why you won’t tell him.”

Jacqueline stared at her friend over the rim of her glass. “Yes, you do,” she said in a monotone.

Traci pursed her full lips. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“It’s better this way.”

“Secrets, lies? You call that better?”

“I don’t need a lecture, Traci. Seriously.”

“Fine,” she said in a feigned huff. “What time is your flight to Louisiana?”

“Tomorrow afternoon at two.”

A waitress stopped at the table and took Traci’s drink order.

“How do you think it will go?”

She shrugged her right shoulder. “I don’t know,” she said on a breath. “I haven’t spoken to my brother in ten years. I haven’t seen my nieces and nephews in almost as long. I missed Lee Ann’s wedding.” She slowly turned her glass around on the table. “I was in the Sudan or somewhere. I don’t even remember. But I don’t want to miss Desi’s. Who knows when…if I’ll get to see any of them again.”

Traci studied her for a moment. “Are you going to tell Branford what’s going on?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Traci clasped her hands together on top of the table. “He’s your brother, J. Your flesh and blood. And I’m going to be honest with you, because I’m your friend and I know you. You talk a good talk about not needing anyone, not needing your family and wanting to make your own way. But you do care and if you gave them half a chance I know that they care about you, too.” She tipped her head to the side and looked at Jacqueline through lowered lids. “If you really didn’t want to see them—and maybe even talk to your brother—you could have simply sent a gift.” She cocked an eyebrow to emphasize her point.

Jacqueline’s eyes flashed for a moment. She lowered her gaze and stared down into her glass.

“You’re going to have to stop traveling soon. You may not be able to work. What are you going to do then if you shut everyone out—especially Raymond?”

Jacqueline tossed back the rest of her drink. “Let’s order. I’m starved.” She set down her glass and then snapped open the menu.

Traci knew that look. The walls were up and there wasn’t anything that she would be able to do to get Jacqueline to talk short of bamboo shoots under her nails. Every fiber of her being wanted to shake some sense into Jacqueline, but knowing Jacquie, she’d cuss her out and make her pay for dinner. She may not be able to fix things between Jacquie and her family or her and Raymond. What she could do was be her friend.

“I think I’ll have the steak,” Traci said. “With sweet potato fries. They are the best this side of anywhere.”

Jacqueline smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Traci stared at her from across the table. “How are you feeling?”

She gave a slight shrug. “The same. Tired. Had a little dizzy spell yesterday, but I think it was from the heat.”

“What did the doctor say?”

Jacqueline blew out a breath. “The readings are the same. At least I’m no worse.”

“Hmm.”

The waitress returned and took their dinner orders and Traci’s request for a mango daiquiri.

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Sure.”

“No matter what happens do not say anything to Raymond. You have to promise me.”

Traci swallowed. “J…”

“Promise me,” she insisted.

“All right, all right. I promise.”

Jacqueline released a breath of relief. “Thank you. And you’ll oversee the movers, make sure that everything gets packed up?”

Traci blinked back tears. “Yes,” she murmured. “J, you don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t do this.”

“I’m not going to talk about it anymore. It’s done. Okay.”

They looked everywhere but each other in a strained silence.

“I can get off early and take you to the airport,” Traci finally said.

She shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the wedding, make nice and then start my…new life.”

Traci looked away for a moment. The enormity of what Jacqueline was planning to do had haunted her for months. She’d tried without success to talk Jacqueline out of this irrational upheaval of her life. But with each visit to the doctor, and medication that no longer worked, Jacqueline had made up her mind and was resolute that this was the only way. And Traci knew that Jacqueline’s will was a mighty force. If she could cut her family off, walk out on the one man in her life that had touched her soul, distance herself from her best friend, she was a woman whose determination and focus could not be shaken with pleas.

“What did you get Desiree for her wedding gift?”

“A cut crystal bowl from Tiffany. Not anything that you can use very often but it looks pretty.” She grinned. “I had it shipped to my hotel. Hopefully it arrived in one piece.”

“Anything would be better than shipping it on a passenger plane.”

“How ’bout that.” She gazed off. “It’ll be good to see everyone,” she said wistfully.

“I know they’ll be glad to see you.”

The waitress returned with Traci’s drink. She lifted it toward Jacqueline. “To a safe trip and a happy reunion.”

Jacqueline slowly lifted her glass and gently touched it to Traci’s. “To promises,” she said and took a sip.

* * *

The cab made the turn onto France Street and pulled up in front of The Belle of Baton Rouge. The driver climbed out to help Jacqueline with her bags just as a bellhop approached with a luggage cart.

“Welcome to The Belle,” he greeted and took the two Louis Vuitton suitcases from the driver and placed them on the cart.

Jacqueline paid the driver and included a generous tip. They’d battled airport traffic for more than an hour for a ride that should have taken half that time. But all during the trip the driver regaled her with lively stories of his family that included six children under the age of fifteen and a wife who, according to him, was a saint.

“Thank you so much. And happy anniversary.”

He grinned broadly, his nut-brown face glistening from the humidity. “Thank you,” he said with a slight bow of his bald head. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“So do I.” She followed the bellhop into the cool interior of the lobby. The heat and humidity were two things that she definitely did not miss about her hometown. She walked up to the check-in counter.

“Welcome to The Belle,” the young blonde reservationist greeted. “Your name?”

“Jacqueline Lawson.” She took off her wide shades and looked around at the plush lobby.

She clicked a few keys on the computer. “Yes, Ms. Lawson. We have you in the suite on the tenth floor for three nights. I will need your credit card for incidentals.”

“Sure.” She dug in her purse and took out her wallet, fished through her cards and handed over her American Express.

“How many keys will you be needing?”

“Just one, thanks.”

She processed her room key and handed it to Jacqueline along with her credit card. “If you’re ready, I can have someone take up your bags.”

“Yes, please.”

“John will help you with your bags. And you have a package. Would you like that brought up as well?”

“Thank you. Yes.”

The bellhop came up to the desk.

“Tenth floor,” the receptionist said. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Right this way, ma’am.”

“First time to Baton Rouge?” the young man asked once they were aboard the elevator.

“No. But it’s my first time back in a number of years.”

“Are you here for the wedding? The city has been buzzing about it for weeks.”

“Wedding?”

“Yes, one of Senator Lawson’s daughters is getting married tomorrow. A real big event from what I’m hearing.” He frowned a moment. “Are you related?”

Jacqueline quickly shook her head. “No. Just coincidence.”

“My apologies. Same name and all.”

“Hmm, I get that a lot,” she murmured.

The bell tinged and the doors slid open giving her the perfect escape from his question. The least everyone knew about her the better. Coming back to her hometown was hard enough. She didn’t want to make any unnecessary connection between herself and the fabled Lawson family.

John wheeled the cart down the carpeted hall to room 1012. Jacqueline used her key and opened the door to pure luxury. The room opened onto a sprawling living space, fully furnished with a sleek, copper-toned couch, matching love seat and chair and a footstool. Low, glass-and-wood tables held blooming flora in bursting colors of orange, teal blue and white. The back wall was a window of glass that looked out onto the sprawling city. A full service bar was to the right, and beyond was a kitchen fit for a chef.

“Should I put these in the bedroom?”

“Yes, please.” She followed him down a short hall to the bedroom that was equally as lavish as the front. A king-size bed dominated the room, draped in all white. Dark cherry wood furnishings and a chaise lounge completed the room. A flat-screen television was mounted on the wall. French doors opened to a small terrace. It was well worth the money she spent.

John went to the closet and took out the luggage stand and placed the bags on top. “Enjoy your stay.”

Jacqueline reached into her bag and took out her purse. She handed him a ten-dollar tip.

He beamed his gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, bowing his way out of the door.

Jacqueline placed her purse on the small table near the terrace and opened the doors. She stepped outside and drew in a lungful of husky Louisiana air. Her gaze slowly took in the skyline.

Beyond the cityscape was the Lawson mansion, the place she’d once called home.

Chapter 5

Just as Jacqueline was getting settled, there was a knock at her door. She tied the belt around her robe and went to the door. The bellhop had her box.

“Your package, Ms. Lawson.”

She reached for it.

“I can put it inside for you.”

“Oh, of course.” She stepped aside to let him pass. “You can put it right there on that table.”

He soundlessly crossed the room and gingerly set the large box on the glass-and-wood table.

“Thank you,” she said, walking him to the door. She grabbed her purse took out her wallet and pressed a five dollar bill into his hand.

“Enjoy your stay, Ms. Lawson,” he said with a smile of appreciation.

This could get expensive. She closed the door behind him and walked over to where he’d left the box. She tore off the packing tape and tucked inside the foam balls and plastic was the iconic blue Tiffany box. Gingerly she untied the ribbon from around the box and lifted the cover. The stunning crystal bowl sparkled inside. She checked it for cracks and then closed the lid and retied the ribbon.

For a moment she paused with her hands on the box. The realization that she would see her family in less than twenty-four hours suddenly hit her. She did miss her nieces and nephews. It had been so long and the gap had only widened during the ensuing years of their estrangement. As for her brother, well that was a different story. She often wondered if he thought about her at all. And her nephew Maurice, David’s son, no one, not even she had heard from him in ages. She worried about Maurice the most. He’d been devastated by his father’s death. She had her reasons for turning away from her family but he did, as well.

A sudden wave of dizziness seized her and she gripped the edge of the table for support. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. The room seemed to shift then slowly settled. Jacqueline opened her eyes. In an instant the rest of what her life would be like flashed through her head like a bad “B” movie. This visit to her family was as much an extension of the olive branch as it was a goodbye. She didn’t want their pity, sympathy or help. But she did want to see them again, as she was now, not how she would eventually become.

Gathering her strength she went into her bedroom for a nap when her cell phone rang. She walked over to the nightstand and picked up the phone. Raymond’s name was illuminated on the face of the phone.

She drew in a sobering breath and touched the talk icon. “Hi!” she said, forcing cheer into her voice. She sat down on the side of the bed.

“Hey, babe.”

The timbre of his voice, as always, rolled through her in warm waves.

“How was your flight?”

“Long,” he said with a chuckle. “But it’s just a layover. The second leg of the flight is in another hour. Wish you were here.”

“You’ll be there and settled in no time,” she said, sidestepping his comment.

“Yeah, as settled as I generally get on these things. The humidity here is stifling. I could take ten showers and it would never be enough. How about you? What were you doing? I was hoping I didn’t wake you. This time difference always screws me up.”

“Oh, nothing. Playing with my new toys,” she said, the lies sliding across her tongue with ease.

He laughed. And she missed him. Her throat clenched. “So…what’s on your agenda?”

“Day after tomorrow, I meet with the ambassador at the embassy. He’s giving me an hour.”

His trip to Indonesia was to investigate and write an extensive piece of the evolving strife within the government. There had been several uprising of opposing forces within the past six months that had the United States wary of a possible coup. This assignment had Pulitzer written all over it.

“I’m hoping to gain access to some of the members of the opposition. The story has to be balanced. And of course, traveling throughout Jakarta and some of the outlying areas to get some insight from the people.”

“Just be careful, Ray,” she said with more emotion than she intended.

“Of course.” He paused. “Are you all right? You sound funny.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” She swallowed.

“I know you don’t like it when I question you, but I’ve been worried about you, J. I hated to leave.”

She lowered her head. She so wanted to tell him, to unburden her soul, pour out her fears and have him wrap his arms around her and tell her that he would make everything all right. But she would not condemn him to the life that was on the horizon for her. That’s not what you did to someone that you loved.

“You worry entirely too much.”

“I’m supposed to.”

Her bottom lip trembled. She had to get off the phone or she was certain she would break down. “I know you have to be exhausted.”

He yawned as if on cue. “I am. Twenty-four hours flying across time zones are for men half my age,” he joked.

Jacqueline laughed. “You love it. You always have. And you look kinda good for your age.”

“Very funny. But,” he yawned again, “if I don’t get some sleep I’m going to feel like seventy-six instead of thirty-six.”

“Then get some rest when you can. We can talk when you get to your hotel.”

“I will and we will.”

“Have a good meeting with the Ambassador.”

“Thanks. Night babe.”

“Bye,” she whispered. She pressed the phone to her chest, wanting to hold him close to her for a moment more before she set the phone down on the nightstand. It was the right thing to do, she reminded herself, the only thing to do.

She set her phone on vibrate and placed it on the nightstand then stretched out on the bed. Within moments, sleep held her in its grasp.

When her eyes flickered open hours later the room was bathed in the glow of the setting sun. She blinked, confused. Nothing looked familiar. By degrees, her sense of place returned. She was in Baton Rouge. Home.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position and glanced around her space. Her reality crashed around her. Lightly she shook her head and pushed up from the side of the bed. She picked up her cell phone to discover that Traci called while she was asleep. She listened to the voice message and then called her back.

The phone rang several times before Traci answered in a rushed voice.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jacqueline said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a little crazed. The movers are here.”

Jacqueline’s heart thumped. “Any problems?”

“No, just trying to make sure they don’t break anything while they pack.” She blew out a breath. “How was the flight?”

“Uneventful. Listen, Traci, I know I’m asking a lot from you and I know how much you’re against this. I want you to know I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

Traci was silent for a moment, and Jacqueline listened to the sound of strange male voices in her soon-to-be vacated condo.

“I know you do,” she finally said. “Everything okay on your end?”

“Yeah. I woke up from a nap and for a minute I didn’t have a clue where I was,” she said, pushing lightness into her voice.

“I better get back to the movers. I’ll…uh, call you.”

Jacqueline blinked back the sting of tears in her eyes. “Okay. And Traci…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re my sister, J. And…I would do anything for you. You know that.”

“I know. We’ll talk later.” She disconnected the call and sat perfectly still for several moments. A chapter of her life was coming to an end. When she’d purchased the L.A. condo she was sure that she had finally put down roots, that she would have a place to call home when she returned from her innumerable trips around the world. She’d rented a small apartment in New York, which is where she would go when she left Baton Rouge after the wedding. Some of the best doctors in the world that specialized in treating her condition were in New York. Although there wasn’t much more that could be done, save for the one alternative she refused to pursue, they were making strides every day. Strides equaled hope.

Resolved, she set the phone down, reached for the remote, turned on the television and surfed to CNN. There was the usual spate of uprisings around the world: bombings, fire, famine and government coups. Newscasters were never at a loss for tragedy to feed the public. And then her brother’s image was on the screen as he alighted from his car in front of the Lawson mansion.

“Senator Branford Lawson has returned to his roots, and not just for a good home-cooked meal but for the wedding of his daughter Dominique, twin sister to Desiree who was married last year. The nuptials are set for tomorrow afternoon and all of the Who’s Who of Louisiana and beyond will be in attendance. Desiree Lawson will marry Spence Hampton. Many of you may remember the eldest sister Lee Ann Lawson married Jr. Senator Preston Graham several years ago. And of course there is perennial bachelor and bad boy of the family, Rafe Lawson, and the youngest Lawson, Justin, who recently passed the bar. There will be no press at the event, but we do hope that the Camelot family of the South will share some of the pictures with us. In other news…”

Jacqueline released a sigh of relief. If she thought for a moment that the lure of the Lawson spotlight had dimmed at all, that idea was out of the window. At least she didn’t have to worry about the press tomorrow.

Chapter 6

The wedding was scheduled for two o’clock. Jacqueline felt as if it were her own. Her nerves were frazzled. She’d been up with the sun, rehearsing over and over how she would act, what she would say when she saw her family again, how they would receive her. It was Lee Ann who’d sent the invitation but if it had family support she had no idea. The family was unaware that she was coming as she’d never RSVP’d since she had no intention of attending the reception, only the ceremony. She would see her family at the church and then be on her way.

The church was halfway across town and on a Saturday afternoon traffic would be heavy. Fighting off a bout of light-headedness, she gathered her nerves, her gift and purse and headed down to the lobby where a cab was waiting for her at the curbside.

She settled herself in the cab, leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Fatigue swept through her, making her limbs feel like wet spaghetti. She opened her eyes and stared out the window as the city of Baton Rouge spread out in front of her. Familiar sights brought back memories of happier times; the old Chelsea movie theater, Teddy’s Juke Joint and Juban’s Restaurant, one of her favorites. There were dozens of new businesses, boutiques and outdoor cafés as well that reminded her of how long she’d been gone.

The cab came to a barricade a block away from the church. An officer approached the car.

The driver lowered his window. The security officer poked his head in and looked inside. “Do you have an invitation, ma’am?”

“Yes.” She opened her purse and took out the gold-embossed invitation and handed it to the officer.

“You’re good to go.” He handed the invitation back to her. “Pull up to the next intersection,” he directed the driver before pulling the barricade aside.

“This is a really big deal,” the driver said, slowly driving the car forward.

“Seems so.” Jacqueline peered out of the window at the montage of guests that were alighting from their cars and entering the church. Police presence was everywhere. And there was no shortage of Secret Service, clearly distinguished by their earbuds and dark glasses; for her brother and brother-in-law’s benefit, she concluded.

The cab driver went as far as he could go. “I’ll have to let you out here, miss.”

“Of course. Thank you.” She checked the price on the meter and paid the fare, adding a nice tip. Willing herself to remain calm, she slid on her wide dark glasses and stepped out of the cab. For several moments she stood on the sidewalk, debating her decision to come when there was a sudden flurry of activity. All heads turned to the long, white stretch limo that was gliding to a stop in front of the church.

Jacqueline’s heart thumped.

The driver hurried around and opened the door. Within a moment Lee Ann stepped out, followed by her sister Dominique and Zoe Beaumont, a longtime friend of the family. The ladies were dressed in exquisite dresses in varying lengths of a brilliant teal-blue. Their hair was pulled back from their faces, and behind the left ear of each was a single white lily à la Billie Holiday. And then the bride. Desiree stepped from the car, assisted by the driver. Those who were privileged to see her get out from the car took a collective gasp. She was a vision of perfection in pearl-white organza. A fitted gown that fishtailed at her ankles with jeweled insets at the bodice and down the entire back of the gown. Her face was obscured by her veil that sparkled with tiny jewels and shone like diamonds in the afternoon sun and the train rivaled that of the Princess of Wales.

Her bridesmaids lifted her train and followed her into the church.

Jacqueline folded herself in with the invited guests, found a seat on the bride’s side of the church and waited for the ceremony to begin.

At the head of the church was the proud groom, Spence Hampton. Jacqueline could see how her niece had fallen for the handsome groom. He looked like he was ready for the cover of GQ in his black tux. And then the music began.

First came Lee Ann and Rafe, followed by Dominique and Justin then Zoe and a man she didn’t recognize. Jacqueline’s heart filled with pride as she looked at her nieces and nephews.

There was a pause as the bridal party took their places at the front of the church and then the wedding march began. The gathering rose to their feet in honor of the bride and the poignant organ music filled the cavernous walls of the church. The back door was opened by two ushers and the gorgeous bride, accompanied by Branford, stood in the threshold. Branford gazed down at Desiree and murmured something to her, a warm smile on his face. She slightly nodded her head and they took the long, slow walk down the aisle.

Jacqueline’s heart thundered as they drew closer and Branford’s dark eyes momentarily landed on her. An instant of recognition followed by disbelief darkened his features. He lifted his chin and continued down the aisle never missing a beat.

The forty-minute service, to Jacqueline, was surreal. She barely heard a word. Her thoughts scurried in disarray. All she could see was the look that her brother had thrown her way. It blocked out everything else.

And then the bridal party was walking back down the aisle. The new husband and wife glowed with the love that gleamed from their eyes for each other. The immediate family followed, beaming with smiles and waving and nodding at the guests who flanked them. Branford was mere footsteps away from her. He hesitated a moment, reached toward her and gently tugged her into the aisle.

He pulled her close, holding her by the elbow, never losing the proud father expression as he spoke to her from between clenched teeth. “What are you doing here?”

Jacqueline kept her face averted from prying eyes behind her dark glasses and wide-brimmed hat that swept as far as her shoulders and dipped low over her eyes.

“I came to see my niece get married.”

“No one invited you, I’m sure of that.”

They stepped out of the church into the blazing afternoon and the throng of enthusiastic guests.

“Lee Ann invited me.”

His head snapped toward her. His jaw clenched. “I won’t have you causing any problems.”

They descended the stairs.

“Give your congratulations and then I want you gone. You drew the line between us years ago, Jacqueline.” He turned toward her. His eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite place; anger, disappointment, hurt, she couldn’t be sure.

Her chest tightened in pain. What made her think anything could be different between them, even after all this time? She didn’t, not really. Yet, there was a part of her that held out a thin thread of hope. He’d just snapped it in half.

“Don’t worry, brother dear, I have no intentions of being anything other than cordial. This is Desiree’s day.” She gently pulled away from his grip and continued down the steps.