Can't Stop Loving You Read online

  Dedication

  In loving memory of Anthony Williams. You were taken much too soon and will be dearly missed. We take comfort from Psalms 23:4

  To Kim Williams, Debra Williams McCane,

  and Ruby Faith Clark:

  May God’s love bring you comfort and peace.

  To foster sisters everywhere:

  Some say there is a difference between family and friends, that we can’t choose our family. I strongly disagree. In Can’t Stop Loving You, Laura, Jenna, and Sherri Ann chose to be

  sisters and best friends.

  To Marsha Porter-Carter,

  my cousin and sister: I appreciate your help with this project, your love and support.

  To Crystal Hammonds:

  I appreciate your friendship and support.

  To Rosena M. Ford:

  Mama, thank you for being you.

  Epigraph

  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

  Philippians 4:13 NKJV

  Contents

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  About the Author

  By Bette Ford

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  One

  Chicago, Illinois

  Wilham Sebastian Kramer didn’t lift a brow when he stepped into the warmth of the waiting limousine and Gabrielle Martin, his highly efficient and beautiful personal assistant, handed him a stack of contracts. Aware that he didn’t sign anything he hadn’t read, Gabrielle had e-mailed him the contents the night before.

  The bitter cold and crisp wind blew and the new dawn lit the cloudless sky as the car picked up speed, heading toward the private airfield on the outskirts of the city. Wilham was the president and coowner of Kramer Corporation, as well as the corporate lawyer for the international luxury hotels and resort complexes that had been founded by his older brother, CEO Gordan Kramer.

  Despite their astounding success with hotels in the Bahamas, Martinique, St. Thomas, Austria, and South Africa, the brothers had chosen not to go public and reap even more financial rewards but to remain a family-owned company. Their headquarters remained in their hometown, Atlanta, Georgia.

  Even though his nephew, Gordan Jr., now twenty-four, had recently joined the company, and his cousin, Kenneth Kramer, ex-FBI, headed their security team, Wilham handled the day-to-day operations, allowing his brother time to devote to his wife and family. Wilham was constantly on the move, jetting across the globe from one property to the next.

  For the last few months, the hotel mogul had relocated to Chicago, where the newest Kramer acquisition, a luxury hotel and condominium complex, would be located. It would be their second stateside hotel, and it was rumored that it would rival Trump Tower in New York. It was their most ambitious undertaking and Wilham’s pet project. He was overseeing the construction on prime real estate in downtown Chicago. The Kramer brothers had outbid and won the property from their chief rival, Tucker and Sons Realty.

  Six-foot-two, forty-two years old, with deep bronze skin, a close-cut natural, and keen African features, the handsome confirmed bachelor turned female heads wherever he went. Although also a gifted artist, Wilham had to schedule time to indulge in that aspect of his personality.

  “Anything else?” he said as the car turned off the interstate, onto a secondary road. He’d hired Gabrielle because of her efficiency, not her beauty, and was unconcerned by the rumors that they were intimate. He was no one’s fool and didn’t mix business with pleasure.

  The car stopped at the security gate and entrance to the fenced-in private airstrip. They were quickly cleared and permitted to drive to the large hangar where the Learjet waited on the tarmac.

  “That’s everything.” Gabrielle smiled, gathering up the stack of documents.

  “Good. Unless there’s an emergency where loss of life is imminent, don’t call or e-mail,” he said with a grin, slipping a gold pen into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket.

  Tired, in need of some downtime, Wilham was looking forward to spending several weeks in the Caribbean, at his home on St. John Island. He said, “Gabrielle, I’m counting on you to hold everyone off.”

  “Including Mr. Gordan?”

  “Especially.”

  She laughed. “Have a good trip.”

  “Thanks. Enjoy your time off as well. Bye.”

  Snowflakes were swirling in the weak light as he pulled up his coat collar before getting out of the car. Despite what he’d said, he boarded the sleek aircraft with his laptop inside his briefcase.

  They’d been in the air less than an hour when Wilham’s cell phone rang. “Yes,” he said without checking the caller ID.

  “How’s the weather?”

  “I have no idea, but it has to be better than the snowstorm I left in Chicago. What’s up, big bro? Problems?”

  Gordan Kramer chuckled. “None that I know of. If I didn’t know better, I would think you didn’t trust me to run the company without you for a few weeks.”

  Wilham smiled. “I have no doubts you can run it blindfolded. How’s Cassy and the twins?”

  There was no one he respected, admired, or trusted more than his older brother. After their father was killed in a car crash, their widowed mother had died suddenly when Wilham was eight, leaving him in eighteen-year-old Gordan’s care. Having earned a full scholarship to Morehouse College, Gordan, determined to succeed despite the odds, took on a full course load while working nights to support them.

  “They’re well. I suggest you lock away your laptop for a couple of weeks and concentrate on enjoying your vacation.”

  Wilham smiled sheepishly, glanced down at the changes in blueprints for the new hotel he’d been poring over on his laptop. Closing the lid, he said, “That’s the plan. Hopefully, I can settle down and get some painting done.”

  “Give our best to the beautiful Julianne. She was very gracious while Cassandra and I were on vacation in St. John. She hosted a very nice dinner party for us. Cassy really likes her.”

  Wilham smiled, thinking of his sweet sister-in-law, his brother’s second wife after a disastrous first marriage. “I’ll do that. But tell Cassy not to start picking our china patterns. Julianne is a good friend, very supportive of my artwork.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Besides being lovely, owning a profitable business, the lady’s infatuated with you. What exactly are you looking for, Wil? Perfection?”

  He teased, “You’re married to her.”

  “You got that right. But seriously, bro, you are too picky.”

  “Did I a
sk your advice?”

  “No, but you’re in danger of becoming a workaholic. You’re not a kid anymore, out to prove something to his big brother. You’ve done that years ago. Your knowledge of contract law has saved us millions, not to mention your ruthless approach to cutting a deal. I can’t remember the last time you’ve taken time—”

  Wilham interrupted, “Is there a point to this?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want you to miss out on having a family of your own. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you. Just as I’m sure Mom and Dad would have been equally proud of the strong man you’ve become.”

  The brothers had always been close despite the difference in their ages. Touched by the compliment, Wilham said, “Thanks, it means a lot.”

  “I want you happy. With the right woman . . .”

  “I don’t know what set you off, but I can manage my own personal life.”

  “I thought the same until I hit a rough patch when I realized how deeply I loved Cassy, but was stupid and willing to risk losing her rather than remarry. You gave me some much-needed advice back then and I’m glad I listened.”

  “I forgot about that,” Wilham said.

  “I haven’t. Wil, while you’re away think about the fact that there’s a vast difference between a personal life that includes sex, but no love, and a loving relationship. Sex without love is meaningless. You deserve true happiness.”

  “What brought this on?”

  Gordan confessed, “Cassy said something about you last night that got me thinking . . .”

  Wilham laughed. “You’re slipping if your lady’s spending her nights worrying about me. Maybe I should be giving you some advice?”

  Gordan chuckled. “My lady has no complaints. But I’ll take the hint and drop it for now. Enjoy your time off.”

  “Thanks. Do me a favor? Forget this number for a few weeks. And pass the word to Gordy and Kenneth.”

  “Got it.” Gordan laughed as he hung up the phone.

  Wilham shut down his laptop and put it inside his briefcase and then leaned back in his armchair. His brother was wrong. Sure, he worked hard, but when he played he took off for weeks at a time.

  “Workaholic? Hardly,” he mumbled aloud. He was comfortable with his life. He adored women, enjoyed everything that made them feminine. Just because there wasn’t a special woman in his life didn’t mean he was lonely or unhappy. He had no trouble finding female companionship.

  If anything, he was bored. The women he had dated over the past few years were flawlessly beautiful. Their makeup, hair, nails, and clothes all perfectly turned out. There was an artificial sameness about them that no longer held any appeal. A pity that natural, fresh beauty was no longer in vogue.

  Julianne Shelby was sophisticated, smart, and a very successful businesswoman. She came from a prominent family in St. Thomas. Unfortunately for him, she had set her sights on him and had been after him for more than a year. While he appreciated her friendship and her support of his art, she wasn’t right for him. They hadn’t been intimate.

  Unlike his brother, he’d never been in love. Although he hadn’t exactly given up on love, he hadn’t been searching for it either. If he ever married—and there was considerable doubt that he’d ever give up his freedom—he refused to settle just to have children. He didn’t need to have a child of his own. He had a nephew and twin nieces. Besides, he had everything he needed, a job that he loved and that challenged him. Plus he was passionate about his art, which provided the creative outlet he craved. His brother was wrong.

  “More coffee?” Penny Wilson, the attractive flight attendant, asked in a sexy voice.

  When she served breakfast with a seductive smile, there was no doubt she was offering more than the meal. He ignored her overtures, aware that he wasn’t what appealed to her. It was his wealth. Unfortunately, he had grown accustomed to women coming on to him because of his place in the world.

  “No, but thanks,” he said, turning to gaze out the window. He had also learned long ago not to play where he worked. Yet Penny had him thinking about how long he’d gone without a woman.

  Casual sex had lost its appeal. Not one of the women he’d come into contact with in Chicago, both professionally and socially, had done more than tantalize his eye. Perhaps he had grown a bit cynical?

  But he wanted real, not artificial, not a woman willing to say whatever she thought he wanted to hear. He wanted what his brother had with Cassy. And what their parents had had long ago. He wanted a woman who was genuine, passionate about something other than material things.

  St. John, Virgin Islands

  Sunlight filtered through the blinds, causing Laura Jean Murdock to stir and open her heavy lids. As her gaze slowly moved over unfamiliar furnishings, it took a moment before she recalled where she was.

  “St. John Island!” the petite, single, African-American beauty exclaimed in delight. She smiled as she tucked a braid behind her ear. Despite her demanding schedule, she always found time to have her naturally curly, thick, dark brown hair braided into thin individual braids.

  “I made it!” She giggled, unable to contain her joy and relief. She was on vacation and had spent her first night in the tiny bedroom of a small rented villa. Stretching leisurely, she raised slim, caramel-tone arms over her head.

  Even though Laura was traveling alone on this trip, she was excited about leaving behind the brisk March winds and thick blanket of snow covering her hometown, Detroit, Michigan. Despite truly loving her work, she was delighted to be away from the demands of being a social worker at the Valerie Hale Sheppard Women’s Crisis Center.

  She had planned and saved a whole year for this trip. She was single, but had been so busy with her work that she hadn’t been on a date in months. After working nonstop to clear her schedule, she felt she not only needed the break, but deserved it. More important, she expected to enjoy every moment of her three weeks away.

  “And just think,” she whispered aloud. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do, including getting out of bed. There were no meetings to attend and no cases to review, no court appearances to make, no battered or abused women and children waiting to be seen, no rape victims in need of counseling waiting for her at the hospital, or teenage girls in foster care needing to be rescued. What a relief knowing there was no one making demands on her time, and she had this beautiful tropical island waiting to be explored and savored.

  A glance at the bedside clock radio confirmed it was already ten-fifteen. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late. But then she’d been exhausted. Not from the long flight, but from spending the last three days and nights searching for seventeen-year-old Tasha Redman.

  Tasha was one of the twenty-five teen girls involved in the mentoring program Laura had developed. All the girls in the project were in the foster care system and didn’t have foster families. They lived in apartments, boardinghouses, and rooming houses throughout the city and were part of the state’s independent living program.

  If anything, Laura was surprised that she’d actually made the trip, especially after learning of Tasha’s disappearance. Although living on a budget, Laura hadn’t wasted time worrying about the money she’d lose if she had to cancel at the last minute. Immediately, she’d gone out looking for the girl. Finding Tasha had quickly become her number one priority.

  She also couldn’t stop worrying that the rumors were true, that Tasha had joined a female gang in a desperate effort to belong. Laura blamed herself for not trying hard enough to break through the girl’s defenses.

  The mentoring program was Laura’s pet project. She was unwilling to risk losing even one of those precious girls to the streets. Having grown up in the foster care system, Laura knew the goals, the shortcomings, and the problems.

  Plus she considered herself one of the lucky few who had been blessed by having been raised by a kind foster mo
ther in a loving home with two other little girls, Jenna Marie Gaines and Sherri Ann Weber, her foster sisters. Even though Mrs. Frances Green had never adopted them because of her advanced age, she’d kept them safe, kept them together, and taught them to love and support one another, no matter what came their way.

  Tasha had not been so fortunate. She had no extended family or siblings and had been in the foster system since her father was killed by a drunk driver and her young mother, unable to cope with the loss, had turned to drugs. Her mother died from an overdose, leaving Tasha alone when she was ten.

  Although smart and a good student, Tasha was also painfully shy and withdrawn. She had been shuffled from foster home to foster home, unable to feel close to anyone. At thirteen, because she was pretty, she learned to fight to protect herself. Because none of her foster mothers believed her when she complained about unwanted attention from their boyfriends, husbands, or sons, Tasha didn’t bother telling her teachers or caseworkers her problem. Instead, she gained a nasty attitude and had taken to using anything on hand—knife, fork, or spoon—for protection. She often had to stay awake nights and slept when and wherever she could, sometimes in school. There was no one she felt she could trust. Although she continued to get good grades in school, she was cranky, tired, and quickly labeled rebellious, a difficult placement.

  Tasha was sixteen when she was put in an independent living facility. That was how she’d met Laura. Unwilling to trust, Tasha kept the pretty social worker at a distance. In spite of the girl’s bad attitude, Laura believed she had potential and put her in the mentoring program at the women’s center. After learning that Laura had also been in the foster care system, Tasha slowly began to let down some of her defenses—just before she disappeared.