Free If I Were Your Woman by Donna Hill Page A

shoulder. “Had dinner with an old friend of mine. I want to tell you about it.”
    She angled her body on the couch to face him.
    â€œStan and I went to college in Philly together….”
    Stephanie was visibly moved when Tony finished. “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand. “From what you said he seems to be taking it well.”
    â€œYeah,” he breathed. He shook his head in sadness. “Just so hard to believe when it’s someone you know.” He paused a moment. “Stan wants me to work with him.”
    Stephanie frowned in confusion. “Work with him? How, doing what?”
    He told her about Stan’s tours and speaking engagements. “What he wants to do is to create a visual campaign, one for teens and one for adults. And he wants me to put it together.”
    â€œThat’s wonderful. If anyone can capture emotion and the essence of an issue it’s you.” She put her hand on his thigh. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”
    â€œThat’s the part I want to talk to you about. In order for me to do it the way it needs to be done, I’m going to have to start traveling a lot. I’d be gone for long periods of time.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œAre you okay with that?”
    Stephanie looked away. She’d be alone. She wouldn’t be able to run to him like tonight when she couldn’t stand the idea of spending the night alone hoping that the phone didn’t ring. But at the same time she’d been ambivalent about a real commitment on her part. She couldn’t have it both ways. It wasn’t fair to Tony.
    â€œSure, why wouldn’t I be? This is something you need to do. It’s important. We’ll just make up for lost time when you’re in town.”
    He searched her face, hoping to see something—what, he wasn’t sure. “Good. Glad you’re cool with it.” He pushed up and stood. “Want something to drink? I’m going to get a beer.”
    â€œNo. I’m good.”
    He walked into the kitchen. What did he expect her to say? He took a beer from the fridge, opened it, and took a swallow. Did he really think she was going to say she didn’t want him to do it? What he did want her to say was that it was going to be hard with him not being around, that she was going to miss him—something. He blew out a breath. But that wasn’t Stephanie. She wasn’t the needy, clinging type or overly affectionate—at least not with words.
    â€œHey, Tony, I’m going to change the CDs, okay?” she called out.
    â€œSure. Whatever you want.” He joined her in the room. She’d put on a Luther CD, Live at Radio City: “A House Is Not a Home” was playing. She turned toward him and held out her hand. “Dance with me.”
    He approached, a seductive smile on his mouth. He took her in his arms and held her close. The music, the silky smoothness of the crooner’s voice wrapped around them like a cocoon.
    Stephanie pressed her head against the curve of his neck and inhaled his clean soap and water scent. Her eyes drifted closed as they moved in unison with the music.
    â€œI’m glad you came,” he said.
    â€œSo am I.” She tilted her head back and looked at him. Her heart knocked in her chest.
    â€œI missed you,” he said softly.
    â€œHow much?”
    Tony held her tighter. “Very. Can’t you tell?” He gave her a wicked grin.
    â€œI do believe I get your point.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth.
    His hands stroked her back in slow up-and-down motions as they danced. She moved even closer, and a soft moan escaped her lips.
    He reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head, only to discover much to his delight that she wore nothing underneath. He tossed the shirt onto the couch. His gaze raked over her. “You are so beautiful.”
    She unfastened his