What She Deserves Read online

  What She Deserves

  Delaney Diamond

  Garden Avenue Press

  Contents

  Blurb

  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

  Chapter 24

  Also by Delaney Diamond

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  About the Author

  Blurb

  Fiery passion wages a war between two destined hearts.

  Layla Fleming may miss the toe-curling nights between the sheets with Rashad Greene, but it took a long time for her heart to heal. So when she sees the cocky playboy years later, she ignores his advances and moves on. With the first glimpse, Rashad knows he must have Layla back in his bed, but he still holds a dark secret and worries the chemistry between them will fizzle if she knows the truth.

  In a battle of wills, both Rashad and Layla are determined to keep their hearts intact. Could full honesty bring them closer together, or will it drive them forever apart?

  What She Deserves by Delaney Diamond

  * * *

  Copyright © June 2021, Delaney Diamond

  Garden Avenue Press

  Atlanta, Georgia

  ISBN: 978-1-946302-47-2 (Ebook edition)

  ISBN: 978-1-946302-49-6 (Paperback edition)

  * * *

  Cover photography: Ashley Byrd

  Cover model: @tiffanysharonda

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Delaney Diamond.

  www.delaneydiamond.com

  1

  Rashad strolled through the venue, sipping champagne with his date, Natasha, on his arm. As co-owner of a financial services firm, he was representing the company at a silent auction to raise money for the Girls & Boys Club, an organization close to his heart.

  “I would kill to get that,” Natasha said, eyeing the painting on the far wall with a spotlight highlighting the canvas.

  The framed watercolor was a field of poppies, with a stormy sky in the background.

  “Where would you put it?” Rashad asked.

  “In the sitting room at the front of the house, where everyone could see it as they entered.”

  He could absolutely see her doing that too. Natasha liked to show off, and having a famous artist’s work visible as guests entered her house was exactly what he could envision her doing.

  She stifled a yawn. “You still up for a late-night meal before we go back to my place?” she asked.

  “I am, but are you? That was a pretty big yawn.”

  She giggled. “Don’t worry about me. I can stay up.”

  Natasha was a sexy woman. Tall and slender with large, gamine-like eyes and a great mouth whose kisses promised a night of wild sex. She was an attorney, working for one of the biggest law firms in the city and had a huge case load that sometimes meant long days, so he was sympathetic to her plight if she didn’t have the energy to continue the date after they left. That didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed. This was their second outing, and with the evening going so well, he’d hoped to spend the night at her place and wind those long braids around his fist as he hit it from the back. But because of her yawn, he doubted she had anything left to offer but sleep. And he’d had no intention of sleeping.

  “I can stay up too,” Rashad quipped.

  She laughed and slapped his arm.

  He chuckled, but the laughter died on his lips when he saw outside through one of the windows. Rain poured down in heavy sheets from the night sky.

  Natasha followed his gaze. “Oh boy, it’s really coming down out there. Glad we’re in the parking garage and don’t have to make a run for it, though maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Rain can be so cleansing.”

  Another reason to like her, she was down to earth. She wasn’t fussy about her appearance, and instead of worrying about her hair, she would have been willing to run into the storm.

  “I wouldn’t let you do any such thing. I’d get the car while you stayed behind, nice and dry.”

  “Oooh.” She did a little wiggle. “My hero.”

  Rashad laughed. Maybe he was getting laid tonight.

  They continued their leisurely stroll, checking out the available items. He looked at the weekend getaway for two at a luxury resort, which he’d bid on earlier, but two other people had written a higher bid. The trip would be the perfect gift for his assistant for Administrative Professional’s Day, so he added his bidding number below theirs and offered significantly more.

  “How much longer do you want to stay here?” he asked.

  “Not too much. Matter of fact, I’m ready to go if you are, but I need to dash to the bathroom, and then we can leave. Meet you at the exit?”

  “Works for me.” Rashad watched her walk away, her braids swinging from side to side in sync with her confident strides in a simple black dress. He smiled a little to himself as two men turned to watch her pass by.

  Walking toward the exit, he wound his way through the well-dressed people in the room. As he sidled past a small group of four, the woman in the group caught his eye. He couldn’t see her face, but the back of her body and the way her shiny black hair spilled past her shoulders gave him pause. A loose-fitting dress in powder-blue flowed over her curves to her ankles and exposed her shoulders with its spaghetti straps.

  Then she turned her head to the left, laughing as she gently tapped the arm of the man beside her, and he saw her profile. That’s when his heart ceased to function. The whole world moved in slow motion, and sound receded into the background. He stared in disbelief as she turned her head again so he couldn’t see her face.

  Rashad stood there for a moment, frozen as his mind played details of their relationship like a quickly moving slide show. Having her squeeze his arm while hiding her face in his shoulder as they rode the Ferris wheel. A weekend trip to Myrtle Beach where they splashed in the ocean and made love by candlelight each night. Her curled up on the sofa in his hoodie and sweats as they watched TV. The gut-tearing pain of their breakup and the silence in his condo long after she was gone.

  “Layla?”

  He said her name softly. Too softly. She didn’t hear him over the buzz of conversation in the room.

  Drawn to her, he moved closer and tried again, this time louder and in his normal voice. “Layla.”

  Her head swung around and so did the head of the man she was with. Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted. She was so damn beautiful that beautiful wasn’t enough of a descriptor to truly express the entirety of her appeal. Gorgeous was a more appropriate word, and she was all woman—with lush breasts, round hips, and a fantastic ass.

  Rashad remained in place, struck by her unmatched beauty and the way she was always so well put together. Layla didn’t do running in the rain. She wouldn’t want her hair wet or her makeup to run.

  Maroon lipstick covered perfectly formed li
ps that looked moist and were deliciously soft. Fake lashes brought attention to her soul-deep brown eyes and gave them a seductive, take-me-to-bed look even when she simply looked surprised, like right now. At the sight of him, color temporarily marred her tawny-gold complexion and reminded him of their passionate nights together—his relentless need to claim her body, his burning desire to hear her hoarsely cry out his name and rake his back with white-tipped nails as she spasmed around him.

  Rashad swallowed past the lump in his throat, fighting the urge to crush her to him and find out if her lips were as soft as he remembered.

  “Hi. What a surprise.” Her eyes darted to the Black man beside her, whom he immediately recognized as Ethan Connor. Layla rested her fingers on his arm. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”

  Her touch appeared intimate to Rashad and cut through him like a knife. Were they together now?

  “Sure, take your time,” Ethan said, returning to the conversation. He looked like money in a tailored suit, and Rashad was pretty sure that was a platinum Patek Philippe on his wrist.

  He followed Layla to a corner of the room, so many questions burning inside his head, he had a hard time figuring out which to ask first. “What are you doing in Atlanta? You visiting?”

  “I… ah, no…” She suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

  “Are you… are you back?” He could barely get the words out, barely acknowledge the excitement that immediately spiked in his blood.

  “You could say that.” Her face shifted from unease into cool stoicism.

  “For how long?” He needed every single detail she could give him.

  “For good.”

  “How long have you been back?” he asked, shocked.

  “For a long a time. Look, I don’t think—”

  “For how long?” He had to know how long they’d lived in the same city without him having a clue.

  She tucked her hair behind her left ear, a nervous habit that meant she was uneasy. “I never moved to D.C.”

  Her answer floored him. She’d said she was moving back to D.C. after they broke up because her family was there and she needed a change.

  “You lied to me?”

  His question had been asked a little too loud and prompted two people to turn and look at them.

  “I didn’t lie, I… I intended to move when I told you I would, but I never did.”

  Rashad swallowed the tightness in his throat. “You never said a word. You let me believe…” A flare of anger forced his mouth closed.

  “We were broken up, Rashad, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Then what difference would it have made if you’d found out that I was still here?” she hissed.

  “It would have made a difference. I would have reached out to you. I would have…” What the hell was he saying?

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out at the rain. He was stuck in this terrible limbo state of wanting to learn more while knowing he had no business, no right to learn more.

  “What are you doing here, right now?” he asked.

  “Ethan invited me. He didn’t want to come alone, so I came with him.”

  She angled her head higher and tossed a look of defiance at Rashad, as if daring him to comment.

  “Are you seeing him? Just now, the way you touched him…”

  “That again?” Her eyes flashed angrily.

  Ethan Connor was her boss. Layla was his personal assistant, available to him during the day and sometimes at night. By all accounts, she made a pretty nice salary, but Rashad had always been uneasy about their relationship, and that had caused problems between them on more than one occasion. The guy was worth billions, and at times Rashad wondered if he wanted more than assistance from Layla.

  “Forget I asked,” he said.

  Layla laughed sourly, crossing her arms over her chest, which only served to highlight the lushness of her breasts that peeked above the V-shaped neckline.

  “I can’t forget, because you’re doing the same nonsense you did before. I answered all your questions before about Ethan, and that wasn’t enough.”

  “You liked to make it seem as if I was overreacting where he’s concerned, but how do you think it made me feel knowing another man was taking care of my woman?”

  “He’s not another man. He’s literally my boss.”

  “Who pays for your loft.”

  “It’s a perk of my employment, and I didn’t keep it from you. The topic didn’t come up, and when it did, look at how you reacted.” Ethan’s company owned the building she lived in, and he gave her the loft free of charge to use.

  “Forget I said anything, all right? It was a reflex.” He’d always acted like a jealous fool where Layla was concerned, but he needed to calm down and gather more information.

  She glared at him.

  “Are you going home after you leave here?” Rashad asked.

  “You mean, instead of going home with Ethan?” Layla asked.

  “No,” he replied slowly. “I mean, are you going home, or do you have other plans? With your girls or anything?” Or with another man? his brain silently asked.

  “Yes, I’m going home after I leave here.” Her arms fell away to her sides. “Look, Rashad, I’m working. I know you think being a personal assistant and showing up for events isn’t real work—”

  “That’s not true. I know you work hard—”

  “But, I am working and don’t want to talk to you anymore. Good night.”

  2

  Rashad grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. His fingers tightened in a near-plea to stop, wait. He needed to hold on to her a moment longer.

  He edged closer. “Can I call you?”

  Layla backed up, something flaring in her eyes as she tipped her head back to look up at him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We broke up for a reason.”

  He forced out one of his disarming smiles to tear down the barrier she had erected between them with her cold voice and even colder eyes. “I just want to be friends.”

  Anyone listening to their conversation would not possibly believe that, but he had to try.

  A faint smile crossed her lips, but there was no humor there. Only silent mockery and a sort of… disappointment.

  “You haven’t changed, have you? Still the smooth talker. Still working your charm on the ladies to get them out of their panties. Still playing the same old game you always have.”

  Her comments stung, an affront to the way he viewed himself. Sure, he loved women and enjoyed their company, but she insinuated something much more sinister behind his actions. He was always upfront and honest with his liaisons, clear he didn’t want anything long term. Layla had been the one exception to that rule, knocking him off his game for six months—a short amount of time for the average couple, but practically the equivalent of years when Rashad considered the length of time he usually engaged the women he slept with.

  “I’m not playing a game. You can pretend you don’t care, but we both know you and I were great together.”

  “We had our moments, I’ll give you that, but it’s been almost three years—a long time, and you didn’t call once.” She met his gaze head on.

  Guilty as charged. He’d pretended not to care, pretended her departure from his life was one of those things, but as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, he came to appreciate her importance, and meaningless hookups continuously failed to fulfill him. He had intended to call or produce an excuse to visit D.C., anything to see her—but never followed through. Because she’d left, so he continued living life as usual. Dating, working, convinced he was over her no matter how many times she came to mind. Seeing her tonight made him wonder if all that had been a lie.

  “Not because I didn’t care.”

  “Mhmm. Well, I’ve moved on.” She gently but firmly extricated her arm from his grip.

  “You seeing someone now?”

  Layla lips tilted up at the corners, the w
ry smile and seductively narrowed eyes giving nothing away. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “You told me you’d think about it, and then the next thing I knew, you called and broke up with me. No explanation. No chance for renegotiation.”

  “What would have been the point? You wanted to slow down. Those were your words. I gave you what you wanted.”

  “I didn’t want us to end,” he grated.

  “Ohhh, you wanted to continue seeing me on your terms. Well, sorry to disappoint you, honey,” she said, patting his chest. “I have my own terms, too, and I wasn’t interested.”

  “Have you been seeing someone?” He asked, a glutton for punishment, hating that he needed to know.

  She watched him with a bit of a smirk on her lips. “Did you think I would be sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to want me again?”

  “I never stopped wanting you,” he said in a low, raw voice.

  The words got to her because her lips parted, and his eyes tracked her gulp from the top of her neck to the base of her throat. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her nervous tick giving him a sense of satisfaction because it meant she was not nearly as indifferent to him as she pretended to be.

  If nothing else, he knew she wanted him by the fire in her eyes and the way her hungry gaze ate him up. She would fight him every inch of the way, however, simply to prove a point.

  “I’m not naïve enough to believe that your desire for me means you’ve been sleeping alone, and certainly not for almost three years. You shouldn’t be naïve, either,” she said.