Heaven Sent (10 page)

And he found it ironic that while he lay under Raul Cordero-Vega’s roof he coveted the daughter of the man he despised most in the world. How could he tell her that her stepfather ordered his assault? That he was responsible for him being in Limón? That in a fit of rage Vega could possibly threaten to take his life? And why would she believe him—a stranger—if he disclosed his suspicions?

He couldn’t tell Serena that it had taken him the better part of a quarter of an hour to make his way out of the bed, to half-limp and half-crawl out to the veranda. He had fallen twice before he was able to support his sagging body against the balustrade.

Serena made it to the door before she realized David hadn’t moved. Turning around, she saw in the distance separating them that he held onto the elaborately swirling wrought-iron design. He hadn’t moved because he couldn’t move.

Retracing her steps quickly, she moved to his side. “Lean on me.” The command was soft and comforting. He did lean against her—heavily. Again, it was apparent that he had overexerted himself.

“Not the bed. Please,” he added, breathing heavily when she stopped and stared up at him.

“Okay. Then you can sit on the chair.” She led him over to the chair where he sat down, his lips drawn back
over his teeth. She watched him massage his left temple. “Do you want something for the pain?”

He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s not too bad,” he lied smoothly. The pain had returned, this time with a blinding fury. It slashed across his left eye, making it difficult for him to focus clearly. Closing his eyes, he willed it gone.

Watching him intently, Serena saw what David would not admit. His rapid breathing and the absence of natural color in his face indicated discomfort—extreme discomfort. Raising his feet to the footstool, she sat down on the floor and cradled his left ankle. Manipulating the foot, she began with his big toe and massaged it with the pads of her thumbs. She listened, rather than saw, as his breathing slowed and the tension in his foot eased. She massaged each toe, feeling the grainy pressure under the flesh give way, then proceeded downward to the ball of the foot, along the arch to the heel.

David opened his eyes when the debilitating pressure over his eye eased. He stared down at Serena massaging his foot. Her dampened hair had begun to curl around her face and shoulders. A few wayward curls fell over her forehead and he yearned to reach over and push them away so they could not obscure the perfection of her features. He wanted to study the shape of her pouting mouth, committing it to memory. Everything about her face was flawlessly young and virginal.

He’d only brushed his mouth over hers and she had not responded, prompting him to believe that perhaps she was quite inexperienced, or might even be a virgin. He wondered how old she could be. Twenty-two? Twenty-three? If she was in her early twenties, then she was too young for him. At thirty-six he wanted a woman secure enough and mature enough to deal with
his decision not to commit to a relationship which would eventually end in marriage.

He believed in marriage, respected its sanctity, yet he was not ready for it.

Serena, finished with the left foot, turned her attention to the swollen right one. She repeated the manipulations she’d used on his left foot, exercising a minimum amount of pressure.

“You have magical hands,” he said in a quiet tone. “Where did you learn to do this?”

Raising her head, she stared up at him, smiling. “Reflexology? My ex-husband taught me.”

He did not know why but a rush of relief settled in his throat, making him momentarily speechless in his surprise.
Ex-husband
. She had been married. She was not a virgin.

“How long have you been divorced?”

“Annulled,” she corrected. “It’s been two years.”

He leaned forward on the chair. “How old were you when you got married? Eighteen or nineteen?”

Serena laughed, the low haunting sound caressing him as if he had reached out and placed her hand over his heart. “I’ll accept that as a compliment, but I’m sorry to disappoint you. I was twenty-eight.”

His expression stilled, growing serious. “You’re thirty?” The question was a statement.

“Yes.” The single word lingered like a sigh.

Serena watched David watching her. It was as if he were photographing her with his eyes, seeing her for the very first time. His gaze slid smoothly from her face to her chest before reversing itself. Something foreign, unknown, erupted in the entrancement, and she knew that the man whose foot she cradled so gently saw her in a whole different light.

“How old did you think I was?”

“Early twenties.”

“I’d hardly be a nursing supervisor at twenty-three.”

“You could be if you graduated from nursing school while still in your teens.”

She managed a sultry laugh. “I happen not to be that gifted.” Her smile faded as she studied him studying her. The seconds ticked off until more than a full minute elapsed. “How old are you?” Her husky voice broke the pregnant silence.

“Thirty-six.”

She arched a sculpted eyebrow. “You appear older.”

He noticed she’d said
appear
, not look. “Perhaps it’s the gray hair. Most people in my family gray prematurely.”

Serena shook her head. “It’s not the gray hair at all. You seem to have a weariness not usually associated with your age. It’s as if you’re living two lifetimes simultaneously.”

A slight smile softened his mouth and deepened the lines at the corners of his large, dark eyes. “How right you are. I’d planned for this business trip to be the last time I’d ever come to this country. I’m here to sell off the last of ColeDiz’s Costa Rican investments.”

Her gaze widened at this disclosure. “How long do you think that’ll take?”

“I’ve given myself fourteen days. And if it doesn’t happen within the two weeks, then I’m going to walk away and leave it unresolved.”

A slight frown furrowed her smooth forehead. “But won’t you lose a lot of money for your investors?”

His frown matched hers. “There are no investors.
ColeDiz is privately and family owned. I’ll have to offset the loss by giving up a portion of my personal resources.” The banana plantation was worth millions, but he would willingly forfeit the money to rid himself of Raul Cordero-Vega’s domination. Vega’s claim that the workers at the banana plantation polluted the environment was totally unfounded. All the plastic casings were recycled.

She remembered Leandro saying that the Coles were one of the wealthiest black families in the States, and David had just confirmed that fact.

Releasing his foot, she stood up. “I’m going to change out of these damp clothes, and I’m going to suggest that you also change. I’ll check to see whether Dr. Rivera sent over the cane. If he did, then I’ll help you walk around before
siesta
.”

She moved over to a chest of drawers and withdrew a pair of shorts she had purchased and another pair of boxers. Retracing her steps, she handed the clothes to David.

He took them, saying, “I think I can dress myself.”

She nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

D
avid sat staring at the space where Serena had been, his thoughts a tangle of ambivalence, not understanding why his emotions fluctuated from one extreme to the other. He did not know why he felt drawn to Serena when in pain, then indifferent once he was free of pain.

He knew he needed her, but he did not want to want her. But even that was beyond him whenever he stopped seeing her as a nurse and saw her as a woman.

He was shocked when she revealed her age. She looked much younger, but looking back he realized that she exhibited an air of confidence atypical of a woman in her early twenties. And that confidence had not come from her career; it came from living thirty years of life.

Leaning forward and using the armrests, he pushed to his feet. He managed to change his clothes with a
minimum of effort. The shorts fit perfectly, even though the style was not one he would have selected. As soon as he was able to put on a shoe he would begin wearing the clothes he’d packed for his trip.

He led off with his right foot, and amazingly it wasn’t as painful as it had been. What Serena had called reflexology was miraculous. His entire body felt loose, fully relaxed, and his mind was clear for the first time in days.

Walking slowly across the bedroom and putting most of the pressure on his right heel, David managed to keep his balance. He made it to the door at the same time Serena appeared with an adjustable aluminum cane hanging over her wrist. She had brushed her hair and secured it off her face with an elastic band. A jumble of damp curls floated over the crown of her head, causing the breath to catch in his chest at the innocent sensuality of the provocative disarray. She had exchanged her shorts and shirt for a pale orange cotton dress with narrow straps crisscrossing her shoulders and back. When she shifted slightly he could see that her back was bared to the waist, displaying an inordinate amount of flawless, sable-brown flesh.

He went completely still, unable to move. Desire, hot and rushing, exploded, and he closed his eyes briefly, hoping to shut out the erotic vision of the petite woman standing inches from him.

What was there about Serena Morris that made his body react with such reckless abandonment? He’d seen women much more classically beautiful and voluptuous. The fact that she was shorter than the women he normally found himself attracted to was also puzzling.

Opening his eyes, he stared down at her staring up at him. What he had to admit was that even though Serena
appeared young and quite virginal she projected an aura of sensuality that most women could never claim. Her provocative voice, the way she looked up at him through her lashes, and the way she moved were all as measured as a choreographed dance. The entire package screamed silently for him to take her. Take her and enjoy whatever she was willing to offer.

But was she offering? He shook his head.
No
. She’d offered him the knowledge of her profession, and nothing more. It was he who wanted more.

Why now? What could he want from Serena that he hadn’t gotten from other women in his past? And why her? Why the daughter of his nemesis?

Arching her sculpted eyebrows, Serena smiled. “Are you ready for your walk around the block?”

Returning her smile, David revealed a mouth filled with large, white, straight teeth. “Lead on, MacDuff.”

She handed him the cane, watching as he adjusted its length. Gripping the rubber-padded handle with his right hand, he took a step, then another. Satisfaction lit up his dark eyes. He extended his left hand, and he was not disappointed when she grasped it.

Serena felt the strength of his long fingers curled around hers. “I think we’ll begin with walking the length of the hall. If you get tired let me know, and we’ll stop.”

Side by side, they made their way out of the bedroom and down the carpeted hallway. David passed the room with the locked door, pausing momentarily. “Whose room is this?”

Serena glanced at the door, then closed her eyes. When she reopened them she saw David staring at her with an expectant look on his face. “It’s my brother’s.”

He nodded, wondering why the Vegas had elected to lock the door. He still maintained a bedroom suite at his parents’ West Palm Beach residence, and the door to the suite remained open and available to him whenever he returned.

Thoughts of his own unoccupied Boca Raton house elicited a wry smile. It had taken him two years to locate the architect who could design the house he sought, and another two years from the time the plans were drawn up to the time the towering structure was completed.

His home was configured in three sections—the main house, running vertically from the local road, and two additional “bookend” structures that made up a guest house and a recording studio. The rooms were voluminous, with twenty-foot high ceilings, permitting ample height for the intense Florida heat to rise above the tiled and carpeted floors. The main house contained living and dining rooms, a master bedroom, a smaller bedroom, and the kitchen. Guest bedrooms with private balconies were situated within one of the “bookend” structures, which were fully accessible from the courtyard. A series of French doors displayed a bougainvillea-covered pergola bordering the courtyard.

He thought of the last time he stood in his home, staring out at the swimming pool, noting his approval of the dark finish inside the pool which allowed the water to absorb as much radiant heat as possible during the winter months. What had pleased him most about the structure’s overall design was that screens were designed to slide into walls, so that when the house was open, it was truly open.

The only thing that had prevented him from moving in was its lack of furnishings. He was to meet with his oldest brother’s wife once he concluded his business
with Cordero-Vega to begin the process of selecting furnishings and accessories. The delight in Parris Cole’s green-flecked brown eyes was apparent once she strolled through the massive empty spaces. She’d promised to decorate it with furnishings that would make it a designer’s showplace worthy of a layout for
Architectural Digest.

He had waited four years from design to construction, and he was willing to wait another six months to complete decorating its interiors.

“What are the chances of your brother being found not guilty?”

Serena chewed her lower lip before answering. “I don’t really know at this point. My father hired one of the best criminal attorneys in Florida, but he wasn’t able to persuade the judge to let Gabe out on bail.”

David saw the anguish on her lovely face and registered the pain in her words. He had brothers, and he wondered how he would feel if they were to spend days, months, or even years incarcerated.

Tightening his grip on her slender hand, he glanced down at her enchanting profile. “I can’t promise you anything, but when I return to Florida I’ll see what my father can do. He no longer wheels and deals like he used to, but he still has enough clout to make a telephone call to Florida’s inner circle of power brokers.”

Stopping, she turned and smiled at David with an open, expectant expression. “You’d do that?”

A smile brought an immediate softening to his battered features. Inclining his head, he said quietly, “Yes, I would.”

Rising on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his. “Thank you, David.”

The warm sweetness of her mouth stoked the smoldering
fires burning within him. David was certain that if he had not been holding onto the cane or her fingers, he would have taken Serena in his arms and allowed her to feel the sense of sexual urgency that made him want to take her to his bed.

He did not want to make love to Serena as much as he wanted to copulate. He did not want emotions to enter into the act. What he wanted was for their coming together to be as primitive and unbridled as an act of mating, and once he entered her body he would hold nothing back. There was something about her that touched the most primeval core of his existence, and he wanted to assuage the savage craving by using her body as a receptacle for his seed. The thought that he wanted to use her body for his lust caused him to stumble.

“Why don’t we stop and rest?” Serena offered, thinking perhaps that David had tired.

“It’s okay. I can make it to the end of the hall.” He was breathing heavily, but it wasn’t because he had overexerted himself.

Why was he thinking of using her, when he’d never used any woman to slake his sexual frustrations?
I’m losing it
, he berated himself. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of Raul Cordero-Vega’s daughter while under the man’s roof. And if he did, he doubted that he would leave Costa Rica with his head intact.

Continuing down the hall, he noticed an alcove and the door to another room. “What’s there?”

“My parents’ bedroom.”

“How did they meet?”

“His first cousin was my mother’s roommate in college.”

“Had your mother gone to college in Costa Rica?”

Serena shook her head. “No. Gabriella came to the
States to major in English, while my mother majored in Spanish. Both were foreign language majors. My mother came to Costa Rica during a holiday recess and met Raul at a family gathering.

“It was apparent that they were attracted to each other, but Juanita was engaged at the time. Family gossip says that Raul followed her around like a lovesick puppy, telling her that if she broke her engagement he would marry her the following day. Juanita did not break her engagement and married my father Hannibal Morris a month after she graduated college.

“They waited five years before starting a family, because my father wanted to finish medical school. It wasn’t until she was twenty-seven that Juanita found herself pregnant. They were overjoyed with the news, but their joy was short-lived. My father died instantly in a head-on accident when a teenage driver lost control of his car during a severe thunderstorm. My mother, who was eight months pregnant, woke up in a hospital’s recovery room to find that she had become a mother and a widow.

“She moved in with her parents for a while. Then, when I was six months old, she took Gabriella up on her offer to spend some time with her in San José. She and Raul met again and he pursued her like a man possessed. There were rumors that he took advantage of her grief, but no one would deny that he didn’t love her. A year and a half later she agreed to marry him. Juanita presented Raul with his first and only child the day I celebrated my fourth birthday.”

“It appears that your stepfather was a patient man.”

What he did not say was that Raul Cordero-Vega was also tenacious, stubborn, and obstinate. Each time they met it was he who had compromised, until the last
time. But not this time. This time the Interior Minister wouldn’t walk away a winner.

“He’s not perfect, David. That was something I realized years ago. But he is the only father I have, and I know he loves me as much or more than I love him.”

They made it to the top of the staircase, turned, and retraced their steps. The sounds of their feet were muffled in the carpeting which ran the length of the hallway. David’s right foot throbbed slightly as he walked into his bedroom and sat down heavily on the side of the bed.

Serena took the cane from him and rested it against the bedside table, where he could reach it if he needed to get out of bed. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

He barely moved his head and she knew instinctively that his headache had returned. “No,” he managed between clenched teeth. “I just want to rest now.”

Swinging his legs into the bed, she covered him with a sheet. She ran her fingers down the left side of his face, noting that the flesh over his cheekbone had tightened considerably. Her fingers moved to his temples and she massaged them gently, releasing his tension. She felt the muscles easing with her tender ministrations.

He stared at her, his gaze as soft and loving as a caress. “Thank you for taking care of me, Miss Serena Morris.”

She met his gaze with a gentle one of her own. “You’re quite welcome, David C. Cole.”

He smiled, his dimples winking at her. “The C stands for Claridge. It’s my father’s middle name.”

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep, and when you wake up we’ll share lunch and you can tell me all about your family.”

His lids fluttered before a sweep of long black lashes lay on his high cheekbones. “You’ve tucked me in but haven’t given me a kiss,” he teased.

“Nurses don’t kiss their patients.”

“You did before.”

“When?”

“When I told you that I’d contact my father on your brother’s behalf,” he reminded her.

Serena felt her face heat up. “That was different. It was a kiss of gratitude.”

Rising on an elbow, he reached out his right hand and he held her face gently. “Let me show you how grateful I am that you helped save my life.”

Before she was given an opportunity to protest, Serena found herself lying across David’s bare chest, her mouth fused to his. This kiss was nothing like the one they’d shared on the veranda, or the one she had given him in the hallway.

His firm lips moved like watered silk over hers, coaxing her to respond as she felt the blood coursing through her veins and arousing the passion she had locked away when her marriage ended.

She felt the dormant strength in his body as his arms curved possessively around her waist, while his broad shoulders heaved as he breathed in the scent of her bare flesh welded to his. Her breasts grew heavy, the nipples tightening from the shivers of delight igniting between her thighs and journeying upward. She gasped, giving him the advantage he needed, and his tongue slid sinuously between her parted lips.

His heat, the intoxicating smell of his aftershave, and the protective feel of his arms around her pulled Serena into a cocoon of wanting where she forgot everything
but the man whose mouth was doing things to her she had not thought possible.

Her hands went to his head, where her fingers played in the short, silky strands lying close to his scalp. Moaning softly, she shifted, feeling his hardness searching against her thighs through layers of cotton.