Destiny Awakened (Destiny African Romance #4)

By Nana Prah

After enduring a traumatic event as a child, Gloria Anokye isn’t sure she’ll ever be enough for any man. With no other option, she entrusts her romantic future into the hands of Esi, midwife-turned-matchmaker. In the meantime, the one guy she’s ever desired has the power to destroy her newfound career as a wedding planner.

Kamal Lawrence has less than six weeks to plan his sister’s wedding. With the help of a wedding planner, they might be able to pull off the best wedding Ghana has ever seen. The trick is to fight off the attraction exploding between them. Once Kamal realizes there’s no way he can or will be able to stay away from Gloria, he plans his seduction.

Will she fall into his arms or keep it strictly professional?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Decadent Publishing
• Release date: Nov 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781683611233

Nana Prah

Nana Prah first discovered romance in a book from her eighth grade summer reading list and has been obsessed with it ever since. Her fascination with love inspired her to write in her favorite genre where happily-ever-after is the rule. Her books are sweet with a touch of spice. When she's not writing she's over-indulging in chocolate and enjoying life with friends and family.

Book preview

Chapter One

Standing in the preparation area of her shop, Gloria Anokye shook herself from the trance into which the kaleidoscopic silk floral arrangement had mesmerized her. The moist handkerchief she swiped across her forehead did little to absorb the sweat pouring down her face from the stifling Accra heat, while the ceiling fans whirling at top speed provided little relief.

The decorations they would set up at tomorrow’s wedding were finished. Didn’t she have any powers of persuasion? When the bride told her the color scheme, Gloria had suggested removing one, maybe three out of the six near-florescent hues, but the woman had insisted on keeping them all, and now the psychedelic mixes of bouquets and decorations Gloria and her team had created for the wedding held her captivated. Not in a good way.

The customer is always right, so let it go.

She failed in her attempt to stave off a frown. After years of decorating weddings, she should be accustomed to the overwhelming feeling of self-doubt that arose at the lack of romance in her life. When would she get her happily ever after?

No time to mope, there’s work to do. She tossed the last floral arrangement for the church pews into a basket with the others. Satisfied they were ready for the wedding and its accompanying reception, Gloria headed downstairs to see how things were going in the store.

As she cleared the last step, the tinkle of the doorbell caught her attention. Elizabeth, one of their sales associates, was busy helping someone choose a live floral arrangement from the refrigerator. When Elizabeth turned to see who was at the door, Gloria waved a hand to indicate that she’d handle the newcomer and smiled to greet the potential customer.

The man who’d entered the shop wore a tieless powder-blue, button-down shirt tucked into a pair of gray dress slacks. The combination of smooth, brown skin a shade lighter than her own darker color, full lips, and the cutest nose she’d ever seen on a man didn’t draw away from the only flaw she observed of him. His lean, bordering on skinny, body did nothing for her, so she sent her gaze upward to savor the breath-stealing handsomeness of his face.

Welcome to G&E Decorations. How may I help you? Gloria said before he could greet them. She glanced at Elizabeth, hoping she’d taken notes on how to welcome a customer, but Elizabeth was focused on wrapping the rose-and-orchid combination bouquet. The money they’d spent on training their workers on appropriate customer service had yet to pay off.

She returned her gaze to the man’s onyx eyes.

I’m looking for Gloria Anokye. The American accent threw her off when she’d expected a Ghanaian one. I called the office this morning, he clarified. About organizing my sister’s wedding ceremony and reception.

Ah, yes. Mr. Lawrence. With his intonation, she’d expected him to be a white man. You confused me. She cringed. When had she become one of those people who let every thought slip out of her head?

How? His eyes narrowed. "Were you expecting an obroni?"

The way he inflected the word used for foreigners sounded degrading. She’d only recently learned that some of the foreigners didn’t care to be called obroni when she’d dealt with an Indian client. Gloria had attempted to explain that Ghanaians didn’t mean anything derogatory by it. He’d understood, but he still hated being labeled.

She took a deep breath before attempting to finesse her way out of the mess. Holding up her hands in supplication she said, No, Mr. Lawrence. I thought I’d spoken to a white American, not a black one.

Hmm. He rubbed his well-trimmed goatee. Now you have me wondering what the difference between the two is when talking on the phone.

With no answer to his statement, she merely grinned.

He extended his hand. You can call me Kamal. And I’m Canadian.

Nice to meet you face-to-face, she said as his large, warm fingers engulfed hers in a firm shake. His touch was accompanied by an odd tingly sensation skittering up her arm and settling low in her belly. Heat unrelated to the weather made her face feel flushed as something unfamiliar in her center pulsed. The perfection of his teeth when his lips arched upward appealed to her to the point of forgetting to let go when he loosened his grip.

Can I have my hand back, please? His grin didn’t help the disturbing affect he had on her.

To her horror, a giggle escaped before she let go enough for him to slide his hand out. Oh, sorry. Drawing in a deep breath, she brought her professional demeanor to the forefront. No more babbling or getting lost in his eyes.

Enjoy your flowers and thank you for shopping with us, Elizabeth said to her customer, reminding Gloria they weren’t alone.

Gloria swept a hand toward the hallway. Let’s go to my office so we can discuss your plans.

Kamal nodded. I hope you have air conditioning back there.

She tried to keep her voice upbeat. Unfortunately we don’t, but I do have refrigerated bottled water.

Kamal chuckled. It’ll do.

The short walk to the rear of the building took them past four fully furnished offices. He followed her to the second one on the right and offered him a seat in front of her desk. She proffered the promised drink and handed it to him.

Kamal sucked down half the bottle while Gloria set the fan to its highest level. He looked around the room. This place is bigger than it appears from outside.

Her back straightened as pride infused her. They’d grown since opening their first shop in Labone and had moved to a larger location once before when business tripled. After extensive discussions with her partner, they’d decided to focus on expanding the business rather than transplanting to a larger location next time. We moved here six months ago.

You used to be located in Labone, right?

Gloria snapped her brows together. How long had he been in Ghana? Maybe the person who’d referred G&E had told him of their former location. Rather than annoy him with her curiosity, she nodded. That was our first store. A far cry from this three-story building we’ve taken over.

You’ve built quite a reputation. I’ve heard only good things about your work. He extended his arms wide. I would’ve thought you’d have expanded beyond Accra by now.

The man sure knew how to charm a businesswoman. It’s in the pipeline.

Glad to hear it.

She smiled then forced herself to focus on business. While it was lovely to chat, they needed to get down to the purpose of his visit. During our phone conversation you mentioned a wedding for your sister.

He flashed her a smile.

She licked her lips wondering what his would feel like rubbing against hers. What the hell is going on with me? Had it been too long since she’d basked in the attention of a gorgeous man? She vowed to deal with her personal issue later as she struggled to pay attention to Kamal without allowing inappropriate thoughts to invade.

My sister is getting married in six weeks and is having me plan the ceremony and reception for her.

Not trusting her arched eyebrow to communicate effectively enough, she added, I’m confused. Why can’t she plan it herself?

She and her fiancé live in Canada. He slid forward in the chair and rested his forearms on her white maple desk. They can only get two weeks off from work. She claims it’s not enough time to plan a wedding. At first, she asked our mother to do it but then told her to stop when Mom insisted on doing her own thing. Vivian hated everything she planned. He tapped his chest. So now I have six weeks to get things set before she walks down the aisle.

The story should’ve cleared things up, but more questions clamored in Gloria’s head. Why is she getting married in Ghana? Why not Canada?

She’d like our parents and the extended family to be around when she takes her vows.

You…. Gloria got a false start in speaking her next words before trying again. You’re a Ghanaian?

Kamal nodded. Half Ghanaian, half Canadian.

And you live in Ghana?

He pressed his lips together for a moment before taking an audible inhale and sitting back in his seat. I’ll make the long story short so we can move forward. My father is a black Canadian who came to Ghana as an expatriate mining engineer, he said with little emotion, as if he’d told the story hundreds of times before and was beyond bored. He met my mother who is a full Ghanaian. They got married and had children before my dad’s job tossed him back to Canada when I was ten. It took some convincing on my father’s part, but my mother agreed to go with him rather than force him to stay in Ghana. She’d never thought of travelling and loved her country and her family. Of course, she wouldn’t go without her four children so—he waved his hand around his mouth—that’s where my accent comes from.

Gloria held up a hand to stop him from saying more. You don’t have to go into all this.

Kamal rubbed the back of his neck. Better to get it all out now than have you ask multitudes of questions at more inappropriate times. I grew up in Canada, but used to come back to Ghana with my parents for holidays. Six years ago, my father retired and my mother persuaded him to move back here. None of my siblings wanted my parents to be alone even though they’re robust and have tons of extended family around. Since my job is the most flexible, I came back to keep an eye on them. My other siblings drop down every once in a while, but they still live abroad.

Gloria’s heart melted at his love for his parent’s welfare. She knew people who’d never return to Ghana after living abroad. Not even if it meant never seeing their own children again. How was the transition? She’d had a hard time readjusting to Ghanaian life when she’d gone to the United States for barely two years before returning.

Kamal shrugged. I mentioned that we had returned for visits, but I wish someone would’ve told me how different it is to live and work here than it is to hang out. During my first three months, I kept my bags packed, ready to board a flight home at a moment’s notice. He extended his arms out and let them fall onto his lab. As you can see, I stayed and adapted. Pretty much.

Gloria chuckled, intrigued enough to want to drill him with more questions, but decided to get back on course. What do you have in mind for the wedding?

He canted his head. No further inquiries about my life history?

She mirrored his head tilt. Is it relevant?

Not really. People grill me about it all the time. They like calling me a non-Ghanaian even though I was born and raised here for the first ten years of my life. The lines that showed up between his eyebrows, as anger seeped through, actually made him sexier in a passionate kind of way. When was the last time she’d noticed anyone as sexy?

What does it matter what other people think? Gloria asked. Over the years, she’d relinquished caring about people’s opinions about her personal life. All that mattered in the end was her happiness. Years of trying to please others had made her realize the impossibility of it.

You’re right. It’s just frustrating. I came to Ghana with a helpful, viable profession, and all they keep asking is when I’m going back to Canada. Kamal’s casual crossing of a leg over his knee didn’t diminish the exasperation pulsing from him.

She struggled to maintain eye contact rather than allowing her gaze to reassess his slim body. She swallowed hard as she realized that his structure now appealed to her. "And what do you say?"

He laughed. Sometimes, in my imagination, I tell them tomorrow. But I’m here to stay.

Gloria clamped her hands together on the desk. It’s great for Ghana to have their son back. And the Rastafarians would be happy about your repatriation, too.

What?

She had no idea why she’d said it other than her nerves being on edge. If only she could focus on business rather than on how soft his flawless skin would be to touch, or if shaking his hand again would bring back the wonderful awareness to her center. Aren’t they all about coming back to the mother land? Heat flooded her face. She avoided his still-confused eye contact by reaching for a yellow legal notebook on her desk and flipping it open. Uh…. Never mind. Where is the venue for the wedding and reception? What kind of decorations is your sister thinking about?

There’s no venue and my sister has a few ideas for the wedding, but she left it all in my hands.

Gloria snapped her head up. What do you mean by no venue? And why would she do that? Isn’t there a female in your family she trusts? The sexist nature of her statement hit her. I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. I’m sure you’ll plan an excellent wedding.

His face wrinkled into a grimace. No, I won’t. That’s why I came to see you.

Gloria loosened the grip on her pen in relief. If she were him, she would’ve walked out of her office by now. He must really be desperate. Or patient with people who blurt things out without thinking. Were your mother’s ideas so bad?

She wanted to hold the wedding in the obscure village of her birth deep in the Ashanti Region, he said with an eye roll. "Even though when my parents moved back to Ghana, they settled into the luxurious area of Cantonments.

Gloria’s face hurt from holding back a grin. I’m sure the venue she chose for the reception was acceptable.

Not according to my sister. She’d envisioned a place of elegance with a romantic ambiance, not under old, torn-at-the-seams tents in the sweltering heat where the water had to be fetched from the river.

A chuckle escaped. Understood. But doesn’t your sister want her family in the Ashanti Region to attend the wedding, too?

Kamal shook his head. Mom didn’t grow up there. She was born and bred in Tema. That’s where my mother’s siblings, cousins, and slew of nieces and nephews still live.

The port city boasted of being one of the most organized in Ghana where paved streets prevailed and homes were intentionally built rather than popped up in random places. Why the need to hold the wedding in the village, then?

He flipped his hands palms upward and then back down with an exaggerated frown. It’s the way she is. When she gets an idea in her head, it’s impossible to get it out.

Gloria had dealt with many brides over the years. People who tended to be logical under normal circumstances went a little crazy when planning their wedding. Sounds like she got a little excited.

All I know is that my sister wants me to plan it, and I have no idea where to start or how to end.

You’ve come to the right place for your decoration needs. Even if it’s in the village, we’ll make the space look gorgeous.

His direct, dark eyes unnerved her as her gut set off warning bells. I’d like you to help me plan the wedding.

Gloria jerked her head back. What made him think she had any idea about how to plan a wedding? Pardon me?

You came recommended from a trusted source. She said you’re great when it comes to weddings.

Keeping the shriek out of her voice to maintain a semblance of calm rather than the shock which had filled her, Gloria said, Yes, at decorating them, not the planning aspect. Why don’t you get a wedding planner?

He slapped the middle of his forehead with his palm. Hmm. Why didn’t I think of that? The phone directory is full of them. His words slowed to a crawl. Wait, that’s right, I’ve never seen a phone directory in Ghana. He held up his cell phone as if ready to dial. If you can give me the number to a wedding planner, I’ll call them right now.

Foreigners and their damn sarcasm. She’d had to catch on quickly during her stay in the States. In all the years she’d been decorating, she’d never had to deal with a wedding planner. Neither had she heard of one existing in Ghana. Her shoulders slumped. I don’t know any.

So you see my problem?

I’m a decorator, there’s a huge difference between that and planning a wedding. Was she crazy? Was she trying to throw his money away?

I’m sure you’ve decorated some great venues, and also have contacts with a few fantastic caterers. He turned on the charm with a crooked smile. Plus, I’ve heard you do amazing work. If your display windows are any indication, then I believe the hype. How difficult could it be to throw a wedding together?

How difficult? She’d seen brides on the verge of committing major crimes, mostly by way of assault and battery, while planning their wedding. What brought you to G&E? With this strange request.

One of my relatives recommended you. He said his wife bragged about what a fantastic job you did on her wedding. He paused for a moment as if trying to recall a thought. Something about fulfilling her decoration needs without having to give you too much input. Like you, when I spoke to her she didn’t know of a single wedding planner, but had faith that you’d be good at the job if you decided to take it.

Gloria softened at the glowing review. She and her business partner worked hard to make every event an astounding success, but doubt overwhelmed her at his proposal. Planning a wedding for a woman who lived in another country went above and beyond anything they’d ever done. Who’s your relative?

Jason Lartey.

Gloria blinked in surprise. Jason’s wife, Aurora Lartey, more commonly known as Ora, was an amazing woman. One of her role models. The woman’s calm, assessing ways could find a solution to any problem. Gloria had known her for years as her best friend’s cousin, but other than exchanging a few words at family gatherings, she hadn’t really gotten to know the older woman. When Jason and Ora had hired her to decorate their wedding and reception a few years ago, she’d jumped on the opportunity and put her whole heart into the project.

If Ora, one of the most efficient, and a little intimidating, women Gloria had ever met, thought she could handle the job, then she would.

Is it all right if I talk to your sister before giving you an answer?

Kamal waved his phone with a broad smile. If you hadn’t asked, she would’ve made me find someone else. Are you still there, Viv?

I heard the whole conver—

Gloria jumped out of her seat and backed away from the desk, interrupting the chipper woman. What’s going on here? She jutted a finger toward the phone. How come you didn’t tell me she was on the other end?

A triple click of the tongue came from the person on the phone. I’m sorry, Gloria. I told him to tell you. I don’t know of anyone who likes to be eavesdropped on, but my brother can be stubborn at times. Kamal, apologize.

Kamal glanced up at Gloria. I thought it would be better this way. He held the phone up and raised his voice a little. And besides, you could’ve told her at any point, too.

Vivian growled. That’s not an apology, Kamal. Or do you really want to plan this wedding by yourself? You already promised to do it, so you can’t back out.

Gloria covered her mouth to hide her grin as Kamal’s eyes widened and he shook his head. I’m sorry, Gloria. I should’ve told you Vivian was on the phone.

She sank into her seat and nodded, looking from the phone to the man. Nothing like this should ever happen again.

It won’t, I promise. The sound of Vivian clapping relayed her enthusiasm. I can’t wait to work with you, Gloria. I know you’re going to make my wedding the best that’s ever happened in Ghana. Hell, West Africa. A pause. Oops, I hope I didn’t offend you. Regret with a touch of humor filled the woman’s voice.

With the word hell? Please. "Not at