touch my heart
Authors: wayne jordan
- Prologue
- 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
- Epilogue
A tropical island. A sensual stranger. Passion in Paradise.
A job offer in Barbados is just what widowed nurse Aaliyah Carrington needs to heal and start over. But the rugged stranger she meets on the beach against a backdrop of crashing waves is something out of a Hollywood fantasy. One of “the Sexiest Men Alive,” movie star Dominic Wolfe abruptly vanished from the spotlight. His brooding, aloof manner only makes Aaliyah more determined to help her injured patient who arouses such potent desire.
After walking through fire to save a little girl, Dominic knows he isn’t the man he once was. He came home to the tropical island to retreat from the world, but Aaliyah is bringing him back to life with her soothing, erotic touch. Is he ready to let the past go and fight for their future—and a second chance at his own happy ending?
“I have no doubt you were but playing an action hero isn’t really proof of your ability to act.”
She immediately realized that she’d said something she shouldn’t have.
His eyes turned surprisingly sad.
Instinctively, she raced over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stood slowly, the sadness in his eyes changing to pain.
They stared at each other, anticipation sizzling, and tension crackling. Then she pulled him gently to her, placing her arms around him. His head dropped to her shoulder and rested.
She raised a hand, placing it on his head as she touched him softly. His body tensed, coiled like a spring and then he sighed softly. His body relaxing as if the pain he carried had left him. Inside she moaned, his closeness stirred something inside her she’d thought long buried.
She loved the feel of his body against her own. He was all hardness and male. She ached to run her hand against his firmness, to feel his warmth beneath her palms.
At that moment, he raised his head and looked her full in the eyes, as if to question what was happening between them. But she didn’t want to think logically. She just wanted to feel.
Books by Wayne Jordan
Harlequin Kimani Romance
Embracing the Moonlight
One Gentle Knight
To Love a Knight
Always a Knight
Midnight Kisses
Saved by Her Embrace
To Love You More
I’ll Stand By You
Touch My Heart
WAYNE JORDAN
For as long as he can remember, Wayne Jordan has loved to read, and he also enjoyed creating his own make-believe worlds. This love for reading and writing continued, and in November 2005 his first book,
Capture the Sunrise
, was published by BET Books.
Wayne has always been an advocate for romance, especially African-American romance. In 1999 he founded
www.romanceincolor.com
, a website that focuses on African-American romance and its authors.
Wayne is a high school teacher and a graduate of the University of the West Indies. He holds a B.A. in Literature and Linguistics and a M.A. in Applied Linguistics. He lives on the beautiful tropical island of Barbados, which, with its white sands and golden sunshine, is the perfect setting for the romance stories he loves to create. Of course, he still takes time out to immerse himself in the latest release from one of his favorite authors.
TOUCH
MY
HEART
Wayne Jordan
Dear Reader,
Touch My Heart
is a special milestone. It’s my tenth full-length novel. Since
Capture the Sunrise
debuted in November 2005, I have continued to improve as a writer. I always strive to create the best book, and fortunately, readers have enjoyed my work thus far. After a new release, I get emails from readers asking, “When is the next one?”
I wish writing were as easy as manufacturing items on an assembly line. With age and experience, there also comes a better understanding and appreciation of the writing craft, and I want my books to be even better. However, the day job, illness and other external factors often intrude on the writing process.
Touch My Heart
was not an easy book to write. I struggled with the plot, discarded the first draft after I realized I didn’t like most of it and started again. I could have edited and submitted, but I wanted to create a story my readers would love as much as I did.
Touch My Heart
is that story: an intense romance about the healing power of love.
Thanks for your unwavering support.
Until next time,
Wayne Jordan
To my editor, Shannon Criss, whose patience was put to the test during the creation of this story. There were times when I felt like giving up, but your understanding gave me the courage to press on.
To my agent, Cheryl Ferguson, who has been there from the day I got “The Call.” Thanks for your unwavering support. You are truly an awesome lady.
This story is dedicated to The real Nugget,
who passed away earlier this year.
You were a bundle of energy and joy.
We miss you.
Contents
Prologue
F
rom the single window in the room, Aaliyah watched as her eleven-year-old sister, Eboni, stepped into the white BMW. She’d wanted to run downstairs to hug Eboni one last time, but Mrs. Grice, her foster mother, had forbidden it.
A wave of sadness washed over her. Despite the fact that Eboni had finally found a family, Aaliyah was alone and it scared her. For the umpteenth time since her parents’ tragic death a year earlier, she felt the familiar rush of helplessness. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream out at a world that had shattered the fairy-tale life she and her sisters had once lived.
She had prayed that each of her three sisters would find a family before she did. Because now, hopefully, her turn would come. But as she looked around at the other girls in the room, she knew that hope was a fragile thing.
Several of the girls, most of them around her age, still remained. While her younger sisters, Cindi and Keisha, who had been adopted several months ago, epitomized cuteness, and Eboni had a “good little girl” look about her, Aaliyah knew she didn’t have much to offer any family. No one wanted a girl who looked way older than fourteen years.
She sighed, wondering if she would ever find happiness. Since her parents’ death, things had changed. Her once carefree existence had slipped away with the words of the police officer who’d delivered the tragic news.
Now alone in the orphanage, she had to survive. At least she was glad her sisters were gone. She was strong and knew how to stand up for herself. She’d protected her sisters like a lioness would protect her offspring.
She turned toward the television. Disney’s
Beauty and the Beast
had just started. She knew the story well, that Belle would find happiness and true love.
She grimaced. She wanted the same thing for herself. Maybe someday a prince would come to her rescue.
While she often feigned cynicism, inside she still believed in happily ever after.
* * *
The sky, just a moment ago vibrant with color, had slowly morphed into dull shades of gray.
Night then covered the island like a dark blanket. Dominic raced across the wide expanse, his focus on getting away from the house and village in the distance.
He moved like the wind, his feet so familiar with the terrain that he knew exactly where the cracks were. The large colonial house where his mother had once worked loomed before him, its flickering lights guiding him. On occasion, he’d sneaked on the grounds and been awed at the opulence of the owners.
Today he did not stop, preferring to keep running until he reached the cliff face. He then immediately collapsed on the ground.
He didn’t want to cry. He was fourteen and tears were for sissies, or so said the boys in the village.
He couldn’t let them see him, but there should be no shame in crying at one’s mother’s death.
When he’d returned home from school that afternoon and gone to the kitchen, he had hoped that by some miracle she had cooked. But there was nothing.
He had peeped into his mother’s room and had found her there fast asleep. Or so he’d thought until he’d stepped inside and a chill had washed over his body.
He had rushed to the bed and placed his hand against her chest to find that her heart was no longer beating.
Chapter 1
“S
he needs a makeover!” Cheryl observed as she inspected Aaliyah with the discerning eyes of a fashionista.
“I don’t need any makeover,” Aaliyah retorted, turning to face Cheryl, her sister’s bubbly best friend. “I’m fine as I am!”
“I’m going to have to agree with Cheryl on this one,” Eboni interjected, lowering herself onto the couch, her stomach protruding with the evidence of her seventh month of pregnancy. “We definitely need to do something about your style, or should I say lack thereof. It’s almost as if you’re deliberately trying to make yourself unattractive.”
A wave of sadness washed over Aaliyah. She did not respond. Her sister’s words were too close to the truth for comfort. Since the death of her husband, Andrew, almost three years ago, she’d tried to keep herself safe from the advances of her male colleagues. In the weeks following his death, she quickly learned that men seemed to think that widows and divorcées were easy targets.
She knew she was not bad looking, but at work she tried to play down that attractiveness, drawing attention from her natural beauty. Unfortunately, she’d allowed the frumpy look to overflow into other areas of her life. Maybe it was time to start living again. Maybe she should let Cheryl work her magic. She was on vacation anyway and wouldn’t be back to work for another few weeks. When her break was over she could go back to being her prim, proper and very safe self.
“Come here,” Cheryl said, pulling her toward the mirror. “Tell me what you see.”
She lifted her head up and stared into the mirror. She wore no makeup now, but remembered when a touch of color and mascara would make her eyes wide and innocent. When a splash of her favorite lipstick would make her lips look soft and pouty. Her hair, thick and healthy looking, was confined to its usual bun. She cringed. She looked much older that she had three years ago. The wedding photo on the mantelpiece was clear evidence.
In the photo, she looked happy. She’d found something special on that day and it had been taken away from her too fast.
“So what do you think we should improve, Eboni?” Cheryl asked as she undid Aaliyah’s bun.
Eboni cocked her head to the side and looked up at her sister. “She’s beautiful even without makeup. I’d suggest we don’t do anything too drastic. The foundation is good. Just a bit here and there to improve the exterior design. The woman has no sense of style whatsoever.”
Aaliyah gasped. She couldn’t believe they were talking about her as if she weren’t standing there.