Here I Am (Wainwright Legacy) - Softcover

Alers, Rochelle

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0373534418 ISBN 13: 9780373534418

Verlag: Harlequin Kimani Arabesque, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

Born into a real-estate dynasty, Brandt Wainwright chose football over the family business, and now he's a Super Bowl MVP. That streak of good fortune runs out the day Brandt crashes his SUV into a tree. During the long recuperation, the fun-loving quarterback becomes cranky and sullen—until private nurse Ciara Dennison shows up for duty.

Ciara has zero interest in sports, or in tall, blond jocks with overblown egos. She's dated a man in the public eye before, and she's not repeating that mistake. Somehow Brandt keeps breaking down all her defenses, seeing through her facade to the sexy free spirit underneath. But once his recovery is complete, will he return to the celebrity life he knew—or choose the woman who can fulfill his dreams?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Hailed by readers and booksellers alike as one of today's most popular African-American authors of women's fiction, Ms. Alers is a regular on bestsellers list, and has been a recipient of numerous awards, including the Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing and a Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award.  Visit her Web site www.rochellealers.com  

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Brandt Wainwright gritted his teeth. It was as if he had ten thumbs instead of two. He had tried three times before, but he was unable to secure the striped, silk tie into a Windsor knot.

He'd given up wearing ties, or as he called them, corporate nooses, the day after he was drafted by the NFL. That was more than ten years ago. Now, as his cousin's best man in a wedding that was certain to make the Vows section of the Sunday New York Times, he'd agreed to wear a tuxedo.

He wasn't completely surprised when his cousin had asked him to be his best man, but what had shocked him was Jordan Wainwright's announcement that he'd planned to marry Aziza Fleming. Brandt had introduced the two of them at the New Year's Eve party he'd hosted earlier that year. Seven months later, and in less than half an hour, they would become husband and wife.

Brandt ran a hand over the back of his neck. He felt practically naked having cut his hair, which usually covered the nape of his neck. He hadn't wanted to, since like many athletes he was superstitious about things like that. But then again, he had to when Jordan asked him to get a haircut like the other groomsmen in the wedding—his brothers, Noah and Rhett, and Jordan's law partner, Kyle Chatham.

If it had been anyone else, Brandt would've told them exactly where they could go and what they could do in the most colorful language imaginable. He was used to that kind of language in the locker room, on the gridiron and on occasion at family gatherings, much to the chagrin of his straitlaced mother. Brandt usually didn't make New Year's resolutions, but this year he'd made a promise to himself to watch his language.

Two quick taps on the door caught his attention. Turning, Brandt smiled as Jordan Wainwright leaned against the doorframe in one of the guest suites in the landmark Fifth Avenue mansion. After a raucous Vegas-style bachelor party at Brandt's penthouse, the groomsmen managed to clean up well enough to attend the rehearsal and the dinner that followed in the magnificent four-story greystone mansion where Jordan had grown up with his brothers and sister. Instead of returning to his place, Brandt had spent the night in one of the guest suites to ensure he would make it to the wedding on time.

Brandt's pearly white teeth were a stark contrast to his deeply tanned face. He smiled at Jordan, who wore a pair of dress trousers, black patent leather oxfords, a white tuxedo shirt and a platinum-hued silk tie. Jordan's looks were dark and dramatic. His raven hair, hazel eyes and olive complexion made him stand out among the Wainwrights, who were mostly blond and fair-skinned.

"I came to see if you needed help with your tie."

Brandt frowned. "You've got jokes?" The question was laced with sarcasm. "You should've had a beach wedding so we wouldn't have to wear tuxedos, ties or shoes."

"You can have a destination wedding once you decide to stop chasing skirts," Jordan replied, with a smile.

Brandt's frown deepened. "For your information, I only chase skirts during the off-season. Did you come to check on my Windsor knot-tying skills, or are you getting cold feet?"

Jordan folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. "Not even close. My mother would have a minor breakdown if I didn't go through with this wedding. Initially, she wanted to invite three to four hundred people from my side of the family, but Aziza was adamant. She told her no more than one hundred fifty. After all, it is her wedding."

"Which mother?" Brandt asked. The question was out before he had chance to think about it. "I'm sorry about that."

Jordan waved a hand. "Don't apologize, Brandt."

It wasn't until he'd announced his engagement to Aziza that Jordan decided to put the skeletons from his past to rest. It had taken thirty-three years for him to finally meet his birth mother.

Jordan walked into the bedroom and sat on the tufted bench at the foot of the bed.

"Christiane is leading the way, and Diane is hot on her heels," Jordan admitted.

A decades-old feud ended when Jordan brokered a real-estate deal in which the Wainwright Developers Group and RLH Realty had formed a fragile partnership, resulting in the companies agreeing to jointly own and manage four properties in Harlem. Once the deal was finalized, Wyatt Wainwright, the family patriarch, had summoned anyone with a drop of Wainwright blood to attend a family gathering. It was to stunned silence that Wyatt disclosed the circumstances surrounding his eldest grandson's birth. It had been Diane Humphries-Andrews and not Christiane Johnston-Wainwright who was Jordan's birth mother.

Brandt sat next to his cousin, stretching out long legs and crossing them at the ankle, while staring at the tips of his shoes. "I know it's not easy for you to talk about it, but how does it feel to have two mothers?"

Jordan sandwiched his hands between his knees. "I really don't give it much thought." He gave Brandt a sidelong glance. "Ironically, I feel closer to my half sisters than I do to my biological mother. I don't hold it against Diane that she gave me up at birth, because she had unwittingly been sleeping with a man who was engaged to another woman. What I'm still dealing with is my grandfather Wyatt's and Diane's fathers' underhanded wheeling and dealing. When I discovered what they'd engineered, I couldn't help but think about what would've happened if my father had ended his engagement to Christiane and married Diane."

Brandt managed a wry smile. "You'd still be a Wainwright. And what made the lie so easy to pull off is that you look like Wyatt—even down to the black hair."

Jordan smiled. "Maybe, as long as I don't start acting like him."

"Are you that certain you're not like him?"

Jordan's deep-set eyes stared at his cousin. Brandt Wainwright was the NFL's golden boy. In the sports world he was known as "The Viking," with his rakish good looks and long, blond hair. A hefty two hundred fifty-five pounds were evenly distributed over Brandt's muscular six-foot-five frame. Although Jordan was just a few days older than Brandt, there were times when he'd felt a few years older. Jordan attributed the difference in maturity to the fact that Brandt had chosen to become a professional football player, while he had decided to become a lawyer.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jordan asked.

Brandt smiled. "Don't get your nose out of joint, cuz. After all, I don't want you to get a headache—especially on your wedding night."

"When did you become a comedian?"

The uncomfortable silence seemed to grow with each passing second. Rarely did the two cousins argue or disagree about anything. Jordan had been an only child for ten years before his brother Noah was born, so in the meantime Brandt had been Jordan's unofficial brother.

Brandt had lost count of the number of times he'd stayed over at Jordan's family's mansion across from Central Park. Back then, he'd been too young to understand why his aunt and uncle had slept in separate bedrooms before the birth of Noah Wainwright, who was ten years Jordan's junior. But what no one had known at the time was that Christiane was not Jordan's biological mother. And it had taken Edward Wainwright's wife almost a decade to forgive her husband for his indiscretion.

"Jordan, I'm not trying to be funny," Brandt said. "I know it can't be easy for you to see family members who were once at each others' throats come here today. And I saw you go through hell when you had to decide whether to invite Diane and your half sisters to your wedding. All I can say is better you than...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Harlequin Kimani Arabesque
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2011
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0373534418
• ISBN 13: 9780373534418
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 304
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Product Safety Manager; enquiries@harpercollins.ie; ; HarperCollins, Macken House, 39/40 Mayor Street Upper; Dublin 1; D01 C9W8; Irland