Touch of Heaven (5 page)

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Authors: Maureen Smith

BOOK: Touch of Heaven
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She must never, ever forget that. If she let down her guard even for one second, this man could—and would—destroy her.

“Nice try, Warrick,” she said sardonically, “but it's going to take a hell of a lot more than cheap flattery to get me to hand over my property to you.”

The barest hint of a smile curved his lips. “I wish I could say I was only trying to flatter you,” he said softly, “but I meant what I said. You
are
beautiful, Raina. Incredibly beautiful. Only a damned fool would deny the obvious.”

Her heart thudded. She swallowed, unable to look away from him. He gazed back at her.

“Well, well, well. Isn't this a touching little reunion?”

Raina glanced around sharply to find Deniece Labelle standing there. She was frowning, her eyes narrowed as she divided a speculative look between Raina and Warrick.

“Deniece,” Raina murmured with a polite nod.

The other woman moved closer to Warrick, linking her arm possessively through his. As she looked Raina up and down, her red lips curled in a smirk, as if she'd seen something amusing.

For one awful moment Raina felt like she was twelve years old again, standing at the front door of Yolanda Mayne's house after her sister had dropped her off for Warrick's high-school graduation cookout. Raina was carrying a gift-wrapped present she'd handpicked for Warrick and wearing a brand-new sundress she'd thought was so pretty. Until Deniece opened the door, took one look at the bright flowers bordering the hem of her dress, and burst out laughing.

Raina gave herself a mental shake, dismissing the humiliating memory.

“So,” Deniece began conversationally, “how's business, Raina?”

“Can't complain,” Raina answered neutrally, knowing it was a loaded question. Deniece Labelle could care less about Raina
or
her business. Judging by the malicious gleam in her eyes, it was clear she had an ulterior motive for asking the question.

Raina didn't have to wait long to find out what it was. “I'm sorry to say that I've never been to Touch of Heaven,” Deniece said snidely. “I only patronize the Uptown Day Spa around the corner. It's a bit pricier than your spa, but, well, you get what you pay for.”

Raina flashed a cool, narrow smile. “I'm sure that's what Warrick will be saying when you wake up together tomorrow morning.”

Deniece's face pinched with anger.

Before she could retaliate, one of the valets stuck his head through the door and said, “Mr. Mayne? Thank you for your patience, sir. Your car is ready.”

Raina watched as Warrick escorted Deniece outside to the gleaming black Bentley waiting at the curb. He helped her gently inside and closed the door, then tipped the young parking attendant, whose eyes widened appreciatively at the generous offering.

Before climbing behind the wheel Warrick paused, his dark gaze returning to Raina where she stood inside the foyer. Their eyes met.

She lifted her chin.

Warrick winked at her, then ducked inside the car.

Her stomach was still fluttering when the tinted passenger window slid down halfway. Deniece gave Raina a look of vicious triumph before the Bentley rolled away.

A moment later Bradford pulled up across the street and waved Raina over, because the restaurant's driveway was reserved for valet-parked vehicles only. He apologized profusely for the delay, citing a heavy volume of traffic in the parking garage. Raina could only smile and nod, wondering how what had started off as such a promising evening had ended so abysmally.

Chapter 4

W
hen Raina arrived at the office the following morning, she had a voice-mail message from Tyler Ralston, the owner of Ralston Development. He left his cell phone, office and home phone numbers, asking Raina to call him back to “discuss an urgent matter.”

And so it begins.

Heaving a deep, resigned sigh, Raina dialed the office number and was put through immediately to Tyler Ralston. “Why, hello there, Miss St. James!” he greeted her, his voice a broad, gravelly drawl that reverberated across the phone line. “Thanks so much for returning my call.”

“No problem. What can I do for you, Mr. Ralston?”

He guffawed. “No need to be so formal! We've been neighbors for two years now. Just call me Ty.”

“All right,” Raina murmured, resisting the urge to roll her eyes toward the ceiling. “How can I help you?”

“Well…since you asked. I understand that Warrick Mayne was in the area yesterday. I was just wondering if you had an opportunity to visit with him.”

This time Raina did roll her eyes.
Visit with him?
As if she'd had Warrick over for tea and scones?

“As a matter of fact,” she said evenly, “I did have an opportunity to speak to Mr. Mayne.”

“Good, good. Then you already know all about his plans to relocate his company headquarters to Houston. Did he show you the architectural drawings of the proposed office complex? It's quite impressive. Over three hundred thousand square feet of office space, a high-tech laboratory, an atrium, a five-star restaurant, an Italian-style courtyard, even a fountain out front.”

As Tyler Ralston babbled on, Raina wondered if Warrick had put the man up to making his sales pitch for him.

“Unfortunately,” she interrupted Ralston's gushing recitation of the planned facility, “I didn't get a chance to view the architectural renderings, but I'm sure the new office complex is every bit as lovely and ultramodern as you say it is, Mr. Ralston.”

“Oh, it is. Most assuredly.” He sounded a little piqued. “But I don't understand why you didn't get to see it for yourself. Mr. Mayne and his people came out to my office just last week. Did an entire presentation for me and my brother. Took us out for dinner and drinks afterward. Really gave us the royal treatment.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Mayne and I didn't get quite that far,” Raina said sardonically. She didn't want—or expect—Warrick to wine and dine her. There was nothing he could say or do to convince her to sell her property to him. And he must have known that when he showed up at the spa yesterday minus “his people” and the bells-and-whistles presentation.

“Perhaps you and Mr. Mayne can reschedule a time to—”

“I'm afraid not, Mr. Ralston.” Raina refused to call the man Ty.

“Why not?” he demanded. “Why don't you want to set up another meeting with him?”

“Because it's not necessary,” Raina said in a calm, carefully measured voice. “As I explained to Mr. Mayne, I'm not interested in selling my property. To him or anyone else.”

“Well, that's just crazy talk,” Ralston scoffed. “Do you have
any
idea who Warrick Mayne is? Do you have
any
idea how much he can pay you for that piece of land you're sitting on?”

“I'm well aware of who Warrick Mayne is and how much his company is worth. It's not about the money for me, Mr. Ralston. I
happen to enjoy running my spa. It's in a great location, and business is very good.”

“That may be so, Miss St. James, but with all due respect, a company the size of Mayne Industries can do a helluva lot more good for this community than your little spa ever could.”

Raina bristled. “That's your opinion.”

Ralston snorted rudely. “Think again. Mayne Industries already employs over two thousand people. The new headquarters will accommodate close to five thousand. That means the creation of new jobs, which stimulates economic development and growth in the community. Furthermore, Miss St. James, having a high-profile company like Mayne Industries headquartered in Houston can only attract more corporations, and like it or not, that, too, is good for the local economy. I can assure you that Warrick Mayne will have no trouble convincing the planning commission,
or
the general public, that the presence of his company in Houston is best for everyone.”

By the time Tyler Ralston had finished speaking—or, rather, lecturing—Raina could feel the onset of a headache. She pinched the bridge of her nose and drew a deep breath, striving for patience.

“Are you finished, Mr. Ralston?” she said levelly.

“Not by a long shot!” he blustered. “Now you listen here, young lady. I knew the couple who owned that property before you. Knew 'em for twenty years. And I can tell you right now that
they
would've had the good sense to recognize what a golden opportunity this is!”

“With all due respect,” Raina said mockingly, “the last time I checked, Mr. and Mrs. Schuler's names no longer appear on the deed to this land.
Mine
does.”

“Not for long if I have anything to say about it!” Ralston flung back.

“Excuse
me?”

“You heard me, Miss St. James. My brother and I may have agreed to sign a confidentiality agreement about this deal until it's finalized, but you'd better believe I'm going to do whatever it takes to help Mr. Mayne build at that location—with or without your cooperation!”

Raina leaped from her chair, outraged. “Are you
threatening
me, Mr. Ralston? Because that sounded an awful lot like a threat to me!”

He faltered for a moment, as if realizing he may have gone too far.

After another moment he said in a lofty, reprimanding tone, “I
have no respect for small-minded business owners who put their own selfish interests above the needs of the community.”

Raina's temper flared. “And I have no respect for greedy, opportunistic land developers who claim to care about the needs of the community when all they really care about is fattening their own pockets. Goodbye, Mr. Ralston!”

Raina slammed down the receiver.

How dare that man call her selfish, she fumed. The unmitigated gall!
He
was the one willing to sell out to the highest bidder.
He
was the one who would profit from displacing the tenants who occupied the shopping center next door. Where the hell did he get off lecturing
her
about serving the needs of the community? He didn't know the first thing about her. She was
not
small-minded or selfish. She—

A gentle knock at the door made Raina bark, “Who is it?”

The door opened slowly. A petite, dark-skinned woman stood in the doorway holding two lattes and staring cautiously at Raina, as if she were a venomous snake poised to strike. “Is, um, this a bad time?”

“Yes,” Raina growled, waving the woman into the visitor chair. “But come in anyway.”

Tina Deveaux entered the small office and walked over to the desk, her wide hips swinging. “I brought you a latte,” she said in her lilting Caribbean accent, “but you look like you could use something stronger.”

Raina snorted, dropping heavily into her chair. “Tell me about it.”

Tina passed Raina the cup and settled into the visitor chair, sweeping her long, braided hair off one shoulder. “I have thirty minutes to kill before my first appointment. Since I was off yesterday, I thought I'd pop my head in and see how the boss lady is doing. Not too good, I see.”

“No, not really,” Raina admitted. She took a sip of the iced latte and let out an appreciative sigh. “That hits the spot. Thanks, Tina.”

“Don't thank
me.
Thank Dalisay at the deli, who makes the best lattes in Houston, as far as I'm concerned.”

“No argument there.” Raina drank some more.

Tina frowned. “When I was over there, Dalisay told me they might be leaving soon. She said the landlord informed her and her husband yesterday that he might not renew their lease at the end of July.”

Raina scowled, incensed to realize that Tyler Ralston was not waiting until the deal with Mayne Industries was finalized. The
arrogant bastard was proceeding as if the sale were a foregone conclusion. Damn him. And damn Warrick Mayne!

“So it
is
true?” Tina prodded, noting Raina's furious expression. “Their landlord
is
planning to sell the shopping center?”

Raina hesitated, then nodded grimly. “I'm afraid so.”

“But why?”

“Because he's a selfish, greedy businessman whose only concern is making money,” Raina grumbled.

Tina's perfectly sculpted brows knitted together. “I don't understand.”

Leaning her head against the back of her chair, Raina pushed out a long, weary breath.

Tina Deveaux was one of the first massage therapists Raina had hired after opening Touch of Heaven. Tina, a licensed masseuse with several years of experience in the salon industry, had been going through a painful divorce and struggling to raise her infant son alone when she had applied for the job at the day spa. Raina had known, even before she'd looked at her résumé, that Tina was the type of employee she was seeking. Not only was she knowledgeable and professional, but she had a way about her, an irrepressible warmth and charisma that immediately put people at ease, which was an essential quality in the service industry. From the outset she generously shared her knowledge and expertise with Raina, who, despite having an MBA from Columbia and five years of marketing and advertising experience on Wall Street, soon realized she had a lot to learn about running a day spa. In many ways, Tina had as much invested in Touch of Heaven as Raina did. For that reason, she deserved not to be kept in the dark about anything pertaining to the spa's possible future.

Releasing another deep breath, Raina said, “Last week Ralston Development was approached by a wealthy buyer who wants to build an office complex at this location.”

Tina stared at her, her frown deepening. “The buyer wants to tear down the shopping center?”

“Yes. But not just the shopping center. The spa as well.”

Tina's dark, almond-shaped eyes grew wide. “Oh no! You're joking, right?”

Raina shook her head, her lips twisting cynically. “I wish. He came to see me yesterday to make an offer on the property.”

Tina leaned forward in her chair, her gaze intent. “What did you tell him?”

Raina gave a mirthless laugh. “What do you think I told him? I told him I have no intention of selling my property. And then I showed him the damn door.”

Tina laughed, clapping her hands together. “Thank God!”

“You know I'm not interested in selling the spa, Tina. This place keeps me sane.”

“You and me both. You know I love my Julien dearly, but coming to work gives me a welcome break from picking up toys, cleaning up spills and chasing down naked little boys who don't want to get a bath!”

Raina laughed, thinking of Tina's adorable but rambunctious three-year-old son. “How
is
the little man doing?”

“Oh, same as usual. Getting into everything he can, wherever he can. My mother's taking him to the zoo and to a water park today, so he should be good and worn out by the time I get home this evening.”

Raina shook her head, incredulous. “
I'm
worn out just thinking about that itinerary. God bless your mother.”

Tina grinned. “She had me when she was very young, so I sort of returned the favor and gave her a grandchild while she's still young and active enough to enjoy him.”

Raina groaned. “Please don't ever tell my mother that. She's still wondering when Reese and I are going to put our careers on hold and get to work giving her grandbabies. I keep reminding her that it might help if we could each find a good man first.”

Tina sucked her teeth. “I know that's right. Don't even
get
me started on my no-good ex-husband, who only comes around when he thinks I might be seeing someone else. Then all of a sudden he becomes the most loving, attentive father to Julien.” She rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, getting back to the buyer we were talking about before. Who is he?”

Raina grimaced. “Just some out-of-state tycoon,” she answered vaguely.

Tina nodded. “When I came in this morning, Nikki told me you had a visitor yesterday. A man, she said. Fine as he wanted to be. Tall, dark and sexy. She said she could hardly keep her eyes off him. I got my hopes up, thinking maybe you finally had a new man in
your life. But then Nikki said you weren't happy to see him, and he didn't stay very long. I guess now I know why.”

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