Heaven Sent Page 8

  Rising on tiptoe, Serena pressed her lips to his smooth jaw. “Thank you for coming to dinner.”

  The skin around his dark, slanting eyes crinkled in an engaging smile. “May I call on you again for dinner?”

  “Of course,” she replied.

  His smile slipped away as he stared down at her. She’s so lovely, he mused. “What can I offer you to return to Limón and work with me?”

  Shaking her head, she forced a smile. “Nothing right now. My life is in the United States.”

  “Your life or someone?”

  “My life.” There was no mistaking the emphasis on the two words.

  Leandro released her hand, leaning over and placing a light kiss an inch from her mouth. “¡Hasta luego! Serena.”

  “¡Buenas noches!”

  Turning, she made her way back up the path, not waiting for Leandro to drive away. She felt the heat of his gaze on her back, and she wondered if she had made a mistake to share dinner with the young doctor. She wasn’t vain, at least not as vain as David Cole, but she knew that Dr. Leandro Rivera was interested in her the way a man would be interested in a woman. He was a Tico and she was an American, and never had she felt as American as she did at that moment. Perhaps it had something to do with her stepfather’s virulent attack on Americans that made her realize that she, like her mother, truly loved the country of their birth. Or maybe it was because of her date with Leandro, a Costa Rican man, that made her aware of how different he was from American men.

  She had not dated before she left Costa Rica for the States, so her introduction to the opposite sex was through the men she met in college. The fact that she had spent sixteen of her first eighteen years of life in a Central American country was undetectable once she fully immersed herself in the culture of her biological parents.

  Walking into the large house, she smiled. The thick stucco walls kept the heat at bay and permitted the interiors to remain cool despite the intense tropical heat. She made her way up the staircase, feeling the muscles in the back of her legs pulling. It had been a while since she had worn a pair of heels. She could not remember the last time she had put on a dress and heels and gone out dancing.

  Not since Xavier, a silent voice whispered to her. Not since she walked away from her ex-husband and her marriage. Her career had become a priority, and dating something she relegated to her past.

  Now her priority was her brother. She’d returned to Costa Rica to bond with her family and do what she could to help secure his release from a Florida prison.

  She decided to check on David before going to her own bedroom. Leandro had given her specific instructions. He wanted the American businessman ambulatory. It was important that David get out of bed for longer periods of time. He promised to deliver an adjustable cane to facilitate his patient’s walking.

  Standing at the open doorway she saw that David was not in bed. Walking into the room, she noticed that he sat on the armchair, his injured foot on the footstool.

  The large bedroom was semi-dark, the only light coming from the light of a bedside lamp. David appeared to be asleep, eyes closed, his head resting against the high back of the chair.

  She moved quietly toward the doorway, stopping when he said, “Do you like him?”

  Turning slowly, Serena stared at David staring back at her, registering the deep, melodious sound of his voice for the first time. Whenever he spoke Spanish it sounded as if he were singing a sensual love song. She much preferred to hear him speak Spanish.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I asked if you like him.”

  She laughed in a low, throaty chuckle. Folding her hands on her hips, she shook her heard. “Vain and arrogant, too, Mr. Cole?”

  A slow smile deepened the dimples in his cheeks. “If you say so, Miss Morris.”

  “I say so.”

  Raising a hand, he beckoned to her. “Please come and talk to me.”

  She did not move. “What do you want to talk about?”

  He lowered his hand. “Anything. If I go back to bed I’m going to fall asleep again, and I’ve slept more in the past two days than I’ve slept the past month.”

  Making her way slowly across the bedroom, Serena’s eyes sparkled in a friendly smile. “I give you less than a week before you’ll be able to go home.”

  “I have to take care of some business before I return home.”

  “You’ll have to wait for my father to return from San José for that.”

  David’s uninjured eye widened as he felt his pulse quicken. Vertical slashes appeared between his eyes as he stared at Serena standing beside his chair. “Your father?”

  Leaning down and gently moving his foot, she sat on the footstool and crossed her outstretched legs at the ankles. “Yes. My father is Raul Cordero-Vega.”

  He felt as if he had been punched in the gut. His brow furrowed and he wondered if his being at La Montaña was a coincidence or was it by design. He knew Vega wanted him in Limón, and for the first time he suspected perhaps Vega was the mastermind behind his assault and abduction. He and Cordero-Vega despised each other, and the woman he was attracted to was the daughter of his nemesis. “But isn’t your name Morris?”

  “It is. Raul is my stepfather.”

  David continued to stare at the woman who was the most exotic female he had ever met. The color of her flesh, the blend of her brown and reddish curling hair, and the perfection of her round face and features transfixed him as no other woman had. Her nearness and her fragrant skin heated him until his body reacted violently with a swift rushing desire. He was grateful to be sitting as he placed both hands in his lap.

  “How old were you when he married your mother?”

  “Two. My father died before I was born.”

  He examined her closed expression as she stared out the French doors. David did not know how, but he felt what she was feeling, and it was sadness, sadness that was heavy and haunting, knowing all was not right in the Cordero-Vega household. He remembered her tirade about her brother dying.

  “Where’s your brother, Serena?”

  She jumped, startled, even though David’s question was spoken softly, caressingly, and what she wanted to do was cry. Gabriel, her brother, the other half of her, was locked away from her. She couldn’t hold him or comfort him. Was he treated harshly? Did he get enough to eat? Was he protected from the hardened prisoners who had made incarceration a way of life?

  “He’s in Florida,” she began in a quiet voice.

  “Where in Florida?”

  Serena did not answer right away as she struggled to bring her fragile emotions under control. “He’s in a federal prison,” she whispered.

  “On what charges?”

  Turning her head, she stared up at David. Leaning forward, he stared down at her. David Cole was a stranger, yet she felt as if she had known him for years. Her interaction with him had been impersonal since he had taken refuge in her parents’ home, but for some unknown reason she wanted to pour her heart out to him.

  Glancing away, she said, “Murder and drug trafficking.”

  David slumped against the high back of the comfortable armchair. He was a Floridian, and he knew the laws in Florida were harsh and punitive when it came to murder and drugs. Who had her brother been involved with? Was he also an American?

  “What happened, Serena?”

  She did not answer, could not. Her vocal chords constricted, not permitting her to speak. Closing her eyes, she could see Gabriel’s closed expression as he stood in the Florida courtroom while the federal prosecutor read the charges against him.

  “He’s been charged with smuggling, and killing a DEA agent.” Her tone was flat, emotionless. Each time she had to repeat those charges she felt as if someone had pierced her heart with a sharp instrument, allowing the blood to flow unchecked.

  “Who was he involved with?”

  Her head came up quickly at the same time she rose to her feet. “He wasn’t involved with anyone,” she snapped angrily.
“He went on a sailing trip with a group of college friends. Their boat was intercepted by the Coast Guard and DEA—”

  “Was he with Guillermo Barranda?” David interrupted.

  She went completely still, her eyes widening in shock. “How did you know that?”

  “I’m from Florida,” he explained, speaking English for the first time since Serena had come into the bedroom. “The media coverage of the drug bust and the death of a DEA agent was paramount for about a week. The only name I remembered was Guillermo Barranda. The rumor is that his father heads the largest drug cartel in South America.” A frown furrowed his forehead. “What was your brother doing with someone like Barranda?”

  “They were college roommates.”

  David grunted, shaking his head. “Someone should’ve told him to change roommates.”

  “Since when do you blame children for the sins of their parents?” she shot back angrily.

  Her words slapped David as if she had physically struck him. He had no right to judge the younger Barranda. There were enough skeletons in his own family closet to rattle for several generations. There was a time when the Coles were rife with alienation and bitterness for more years than he could count. It was only within the past five years that things had changed and his parents, brothers, and sisters had reconciled with one another.

  Lowering his right foot and using the armrests, he pushed to his feet, swaying before he righted himself. “You’re right, Serena. I of all people should be the last to judge someone else for what his father has done,” he replied cryptically.

  Standing, she stared at the middle of his hair-matted chest rather than meet his gaze; she had heard rumors about her stepfather—nasty rumors about his abuse of the powers of his office—and had always forgiven him because of his passion for the country of his birth. She and her mother had never permitted themselves to become involved with the political machinations that controlled Raul Vega and turned him into a nationalistic zealot.

  Nodding, she said, “The adage is true—those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.”

  He flashed a slow, sensual smile. “Amen.”

  Serena wound an arm around his waist, feeling the heat from his body seep into her own through the red silk dress. The natural fragrance of his masculine skin was hypnotic and cloying.

  They made their way slowly across the room to the bed. David sat down hard, breathing heavily. The effort it had taken for him to get out of bed and make it over the chair had drained his strength. He had been prepared to spend the night on the chair if Serena hadn’t returned.

  She raised his legs and eased them onto the bed as he lay down. Pulling a sheet up to his waist, she smiled at him. “Dr. Rivera wants you ambulatory. He’s sending over a cane to help you keep your balance. We’ll start you with taking your meals out of bed. It may take a few days, but as soon as the swelling in your ankle lessens you’ll be able to shower by yourself.”

  This news pleased him. “Thank you.”

  Serena stared at David. It was the first time since he was brought into La Montaña that he’d shown any measure of humility. “You’re welcome.” Patting his muscled shoulder, she flashed her winning smile. “Sleep well.”

  David closed his eyes, a smile curving his lips. He still could see Serena, smell her, hear the sound of her throaty voice, and savor the gentle touch of her healing hands. She was his special angel, sent from heaven to give him back his life, and what he wanted to do when he left Costa Rica was take her with him. He never thought that perhaps it was gratitude that drew him to her, because he knew it wasn’t. It was something else; something he could not quite identify. Not yet.

  Chapter 11

  June 16

  Serena woke as the sun pierced the dark cover of night. Streaks of lavender, mauve, and pale blue had crisscrossed the heavens by the time she had splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth, slipped into a sports bra, T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes, and secured her hair atop her head with an elastic headband. The warm rays filtered over her exposed flesh the moment she stepped out onto the veranda. Instinctively she knew she had only another hour before the tropical heat made it virtually impossible for her to jog her daily three miles.

  Making her way out of her bedroom, she noticed a black leather garment bag and matching, oversized Pullman outside the door to David’s bedroom. She assumed someone had found his luggage and delivered it to La Montaña. She would speak to Rodrigo after she returned from her jog.

  Rodrigo, along with Luz Maria, was responsible for the day-to-day operation of La Montaña. Luz Maria oversaw the kitchen and every aspect of the interior of the large house, while Rodrigo saw to the exterior. He kept the automobiles in working order and made certain the landscaping crew maintained the grounds, greenhouse, and the aviary. He was silent, inconspicuous, and very efficient.

  She stretched vigorously, loosening up before she half-walked and half-jogged down the path to the beach. A blue-gray haze hung over the nearby rain forest like a heavy shroud. The raucous sounds of birds filled the air, their differing cries blending like an orchestra warming up before the start of their staged performance.

  This was the Costa Rica Serena loved: the heat, the cries of the birds, the clear, blue-green of the Caribbean, the thick, lush world of the rain forest, and the majestic splendor of La Montaña rising above the unspoiled perfection of a land not yet defiled by overpopulation or pollution.

  Inhaling the cloying fragrance of flowers growing without boundaries, she could understand her stepfather’s fervent passion for protecting the land of his birth. It truly was a Garden of Eden. A garden he did not want debauched by the destructive waste that usually accompanied greed and avarice—all in the name of progress.

  Dampness lathered her arms and legs long before she reached the beach and began a smooth, rhythmic run along the pristine, white sand. She had run less than a quarter of a mile when she saw tracks and a large turtle that had apparently come ashore to lay and bury hundreds of eggs in the sand before returning to the sea.

  The heat from the rising sun was oppressive, stealing precious breath from her lungs, and she knew it would be impossible to run more than a mile before passing out or becoming dehydrated. Stopping, she rested her hands on her hips and inhaled thick, hot air. She had jogged less than half a mile. She did not know how long she would stay in Costa Rica before returning to the States, but she knew that jogging every day was not possible. Her running the marathon was contingent on her logging a minimum of twenty miles a week, and she knew she was going to have to train differently if she were to remain in Costa Rica beyond a month.

  Instead of running, she walked back to La Montaña. Limón was fully awake with the steady hum of cars and trucks traversing the paved roads as its citizens prepared for a day of work. As she neared the house she saw Rodrigo driving away, and wondered whether he was going to pick up her parents. She had wanted to call her mother, but decided to wait. She was certain that if Juanita had encouraging news she would’ve called her immediately.

  Walking into the coolness of the house, Serena made her way up the back staircase to her bedroom. Glancing at the bags outside David Cole’s door, she noticed the quality of the leather and the monogrammed DCC emblazoned on gold along the sides of the Pullman and garment bag.

  There were so many questions about David that she wanted answered. If his family was as prominent and wealthy as Leandro had hinted, why hadn’t she heard of them? And where had he learned to speak flawless Spanish?

  She forgot everything about David as she stripped off her clothes and stood under the cool spray of a shower while she washed her hair and her body.

  A quarter of an hour later she walked into David’s bedroom, hair billowing around her head and face in a sensual cloud of red-brown curls. She had applied an oil-based lotion to the damp strands where they crinkled in soft, loose ringlets.

  David turned to stare at Serena the moment he detected the fragrance of her perfume. It wasn�
�t the same as the one she wore the night before. The last time he saw her she was wearing the red silk dress, but this morning she wore a pair of khaki shorts with an oversize T-shirt. Again, he was transfixed by the perfection of her legs.

  “Good morning.”

  They shared a smile. They had spoken in unison.

  “Good morning, David.”

  His smile widened. “Good morning, Serena.” Pushing himself up, he supported his upper body on his elbows. “Can you help me to the bathroom?”

  She arched an eyebrow, returning his winning smile. “Of course.”

  Slipping an arm under his knees, she swung his legs around until his feet touched the floor. Moving to his right side, she provided the extra support he needed when he gingerly placed his weight on his injured foot. They made it to the bathroom and she helped him over to the commode.

  “I know,” he began as she opened her mouth. “I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

  “You learn quickly. I like that,” she teased.

  I like you, David said silently as he stared at her retreating figure. And he did. He had awakened early and he lay in bed thinking about Serena. She yelled at him and bullied him, and these were traits he did not like in a woman. The women he found himself involved with were typically submissive and compliant. They did not challenge him or issue demands. And he usually told them from the onset that he could not promise more than he was able to give at the time, and most knew he had no intention of marrying or fathering children. Some accepted his stance, while many did not. As a result he had had very few serious relationships that continued beyond two years.

  It was said that men usually married women much like their mothers, and David had come to the realization that he was looking for a woman like his mother. Marguerite Cole was quiet and extremely tolerant. She had permitted her much more effusive husband to see to her every need and desire, while she concentrated on nurturing her children and safeguarding her household. Any issues aside from her home and children she left to Samuel Claridge Cole. What he didn’t understand was his attraction to Serena, because she was not like his mother.