by Jan Moran
Verena closed her eyes and sank into his embrace. His chest was firm against her touch, and she found herself remembering what he’d looked like at the Villa and Hôtel Majestic in Paris without a shirt. Or pants.
Lance ran his hands down her back, kneading the muscles between her shoulder blades. “You feel tense. I’ve booked a massage for you in the morning. But if you’d like one tonight, I’m happy to oblige.”
“You’re full service, aren’t you?” Verena caught herself and blushed at her own remark. Should she rush into another relationship? Or was she being hasty? Maybe he didn’t even want a girlfriend. And she came with a houseful of baggage, or so Derrick had told her. A dozen different scenarios rushed through her mind before she put a stop to them.
She thought of her parents and how their life had been cut short, and she couldn’t help thinking of Derrick and Roper and their accident tonight. Pushing her thoughts aside, she decided to live for today and for the loving man who stood before her now. The essence of life is as fleeting as a heartbeat. She sighed, enjoying the feel of Lance’s arms around her.
Verena nuzzled against his neck and considered her grandmother’s notion of kismet. A thought struck her. What if Lance is the man I’m destined for?
He kissed her on the cheek and let his lips linger against her neck. “Before we get seriously sidetracked, go bathe and relax. I’ll hang up your new clothes.”
“You’re too much.” She pulled away from him with a pang of regret.
After he left, Verena strolled into the bathroom. She checked her mobile phone, but there were no calls. Mia was probably resting.
Easing into the warm, verbena-scented water, Verena closed her eyes, reveling in the pure pleasure of the moment and hardly wondering what might happen next.
30
AFTER HANGING UP the clothes they’d bought, Lance brought a bowl of strawberries to Verena. Bubbles were up to her chin and she was humming along with the music. He smiled at her, thinking she was the most genuine, beautiful woman he’d ever known.
She’d been knocked down hard and didn’t deserve it. If he’d give him a chance, he’d gladly spend the rest of her life making it up to her.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, he picked out the juiciest, most succulent berry and held it out to her. He’d had a fruit plate delivered with the champagne. “Here’s a little nosh to make sure you don’t starve before dinner.”
Verena caught it with her teeth and took a bite. “Mmm, delicious. Truly nature’s dessert.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” He kissed her and paused by the door, framing the image of her in the bubble bath in his mind, wanting to remember this moment forever. Because this is just the beginning…
Lance wandered outside to give her privacy to bathe and dress. He gazed up at the stars, thinking that he was the luckiest man alive. Tonight, he didn’t want to hurry the evening, or put undue pressure on her. I’d rather have the rest of our lives together, he thought.
Was this even a possibility?
He wished he’d met her before she had to go through a relationship with a jerk like Derrick. Based on what he’d overheard between him and Roper that day in the hotel dining room, he was convinced Derrick had never meant to marry her, and had only used her to finagle her company for Herringbone.
Lance wished he had it in his power to wipe her slate clean. Instead, he would make it up to her by showing her what a wonderful woman she truly was. If he got the chance, he would treasure her for the rest of her life.
While Verena was bathing, Lance stepped outside to enjoy the night sky. With a clear sky overhead, the stars blazed with clear intensity, reflecting the way he felt on the inside. He spied the outdoor shower near the pool. The entire patio was enclosed with a high stucco wall for complete privacy. Perfect.
He hated to infringe on Verena’s restorative solitude in the bathroom and the thought of an outdoor shower under the stars appealed to him. He stripped off his clothes and turned on the water.
Holding his head under the shower head, he let warm water glide off his back. Small bottles of shampoo and liquid soap sat on a ledge, so he lathered his hair, soaped up, and then ducked under the shower to rinse. He stood, letting the water pummel his back and enjoying how it felt. It wasn’t until after he’d turned off the water that he thought about a towel.
“Damn,” he muttered. He heard Verena giggle behind him.
“Looking for this?”
Lance glanced over his shoulder without turning to face her. “Oh, yeah, I completely forgot.”
Verena stood in the doorway wrapped in a hotel robe. She dangled a terry cloth towel from her fingertips—and looked far too sexy. Her dark sapphire eyes danced over his body with glee. “So, come and get it.” She moistened her lips and swung the towel, playfully taunting him.
He pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. “If that’s what you want.” He began to turn toward her.
She screamed and flung the towel at him before racing back inside, her delightful laughter filling the air.
He caught the towel in midair and dried his hair and skin. Her laughter—warm and radiant as sunshine—tinkled in his ears and brought a smile to his face.
He hadn’t heard her laugh since Paris.
If that was all he accomplished, he’d count the night a success. From what he’d seen, she’d been under far too much pressure for far too long. Although he wouldn’t have wished death on Derrick, it was exactly what the man deserved for the way he’d treated Verena.
This was a woman who should be cherished. And he meant to do exactly that.
He wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped inside. “Got an extra robe?”
Verena peeked from the bathroom and handed him a bathrobe. “And where do you plan on sleeping?” she asked, laughing again.
Two can play at this game. “I think you’ll be comfortable on the couch,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh, you!” She lobbed a strawberry at him, and he caught it in his hand. As he bit into the berry, he wondered how the night would unfold.
31
STILL LAUGHING OVER the towel incident, Verena shut the bathroom door and sat in front of the vanity mirror. Brushing her damp hair back, she savored the image in her mind of Lance showering in the moonlight.
While she’d stood in the doorway watching him, long-repressed desire had surged through her. She’d enjoyed every minute and waited until he’d finished, liking what she saw. He hadn’t known she was there until after he’d turned off the water. She giggled to herself again. She loved his playful nature.
Yet a question nagged the practical side of her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the right time for them. Her tattered emotions were raw from the ordeals she’d been through, beginning with the loss of her friend and banker, Marvin Panetta, and the ensuing financial disaster. Derrick’s duplicity, Herringbone’s take-over, Mia’s heart attack. Her life had spiraled out of control.
In fact, she’d nearly committed murder a few hours ago. Was she in the right frame of mind to think clearly tonight?
Or was this exactly what she needed to soothe her battered soul?
As she’d watched Lance shower under the stars, she’d felt an emotion that was more than desire, more than sexual attraction. Is this what Mia had felt for Emile? What her father had felt for her mother?
Was it love? She wasn’t quite sure, but she was sure of one thing. Being with him made her happy—simply happy, as if she belonged with him, and vice versa. Was that love?
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, imagining the answer might somehow emerge from her heart, but nothing was forthcoming.
Lance was dressed by the time she came out of the bathroom. He wore brushed black denim jeans and a white shirt that showed off his tanned face and sun-streaked hair. His amber eyes gleamed with appreciation of her. Although she’d dried her hair, she still wore her bathrobe.
“Your clothes are in the closet,” he said, a g
rin playing on his lips. “Can’t wait to see you in them.” He shut the bedroom door behind him.
Verena opened the closet door and selected one of the outfits he’d bought for her. It was an ivory linen sundress that skimmed her slim figure and swirled around her ankles. She swept her long, wavy hair over her shoulder and stepped into the new, strappy high-heeled sandals. Turning to look at herself in the mirror, she saw a woman who now had hope in her eyes.
Smiling with satisfaction, she opened the bedroom door.
Lance let out a low whistle. “Magnificent,” he said. “You look like an angel.”
She kissed him lightly. “You’re the angel, thank you.”
Slipping his arm around her, he asked, “Do you have your phone with you in case Mia needs you?”
“I do.” She kissed him again. “Thanks for being concerned.”
“If we have to return to the hospital, the hotel driver can take us.” Lance took her hand in his.
“After your gourmet meal, I think Mia will sleep well tonight. And the doctor seems confident about her status.”
They left the bungalow and strolled hand in hand to the main pool area, which was deserted at this time of night and where they’d first met.
Lance hugged her to his side. “I remember the first time I saw you here.”
She smiled up at him. “Must have been kismet.”
He escorted her into a private cabana with a striped green and white canvas awning, where a candlelit table for two had been set up. As they sat down, he said to her, “I think my kitchen team is nervous about serving us tonight.”
“Why?”
“Guess I’m a tough customer.” He threaded his fingers with hers.
Verena inclined her head, studying the serious expression on his face. “I haven’t seen that side of you.”
“I’m exacting, and I ask for excellence, because that’s what our guests expect. Though if I have to correct an employee, I try to be positive, yet direct. And I always tell people when they do perform well. It’s an art, I must say.”
“That I understand.”
He laughed. “They shouldn’t be nervous though, because I couldn’t be more relaxed tonight. I’m with the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Are you happy?” She searched his face for confirmation that he felt the way she did.
His eyes reflected the flickering candle light. “Infinitely happy. And you? You’re had a rough time lately.”
“That’s true, but at the moment, here with you, I feel hope for the first time in I can’t remember how long.” She closed her eyes and met his lips. A warm feeling rippled throughout her body.
“I share that sentiment,” Lance said. “And I promise we’ll dine in a leisurely fashion this evening.”
The dinner was served in several courses that he had specially designed and directed. None of the dishes were on the menu; they were his own creations.
The first course was tomato bisque with fresh basil made from the ripest produce of the season, followed by a stacked tower of avocado, sushi, chopped lettuce, and melon garnished with caviar and surrounded with a slightly spicy mango sauce.
“Delicious,” Verena said, taking a bite.
“It’s a warm evening, so I thought you might like this,” Lance said, when a half dome of crushed ice studded with fresh seafood was delivered. He poured more wine—a French Chassagne-Montrachet made from chardonnay grapes that Verena immediately decided was her favorite.
The full moon cast a glow over the main pool, and Verena watched an occasional breeze coax smooth currents across the surface. The evening was the perfect book-end to a dreadful period of time she hoped was behind her.
Biting her lip, she realized tonight might be all they would ever have. She couldn’t be the kind of girlfriend he might want. She had Anika, Bella, and Mia to provide for—too many responsibilities for any man she’d ever known.
As long as Mia’s recovery was on track—and it looked like it was—she had to look to the future. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight, she would put aside her to-do list and simply enjoy Lance’s company.
Reaching for his hand on the table, she twined her fingers with his, and he lifted her hand to his face, kissing her fingertips as he did.
When a server brought dessert, Verena exclaimed over the chocolate mousse drizzled with raspberry liqueur.
“What’s a fine dinner without dessert?” Lance’s eyes crinkled with pleasure as he watched her.
As they enjoyed the dessert, Lance asked her about the twins, chuckling as she told him about Anika and Bella’s silly exploits. She told him about her parents, and then about Mia and Emile, and the great love they’d had.
Lance told her about his parents in La Jolla and his two brothers who lived in San Francisco and San Diego, respectively. He spoke about them with such affection and this impressed Verena.
Although the moon was high in the night sky by the time they finished dinner, Lance asked, “Feel like a swim in our private pool?”
“That’s the perfect end to the evening.” Well, almost perfect. Her eyes roved over his firm physique, and she imagined what it would be like to—she stopped herself. Live in the moment, she reminded herself.
After strolling back to the bungalow, Verena slipped into the brightly patterned Pucci bikini she’d bought at the boutique. She met Lance at the pool and saw that he’d already changed into his swimsuit. She glided into the water, stroking from one end to another. Lance joined in, and they swam together for a few minutes until Verena paused at one end.
“It feels so good to stretch out through the water.” She breathed in, savoring the moonlit scene around her and the handsome man by her side.
Lance shook water from his thick hair and pushed it back. With a fluid motion, he lifted her and eased her against his chest, their faces nearly touching.
As if it were the most natural thing to do, Verena closed her eyes and found his lips, caressing them with her own. Lance responded, deepening their kiss, and Verena was transported into another dimension of pure pleasure.
Before long, their swimsuits vanished. A blissful moan escaped Verena’s lips as the water sluiced across her skin. The freedom of nudity heightened their desire, and Lance swept her from the pool and onto a cushioned chaise lounge.
Moonlight dusted Lance’s powerful torso and his bronzed skin glowed against her fair, porcelain skin.
“If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to go on,” he murmured.
She couldn’t imagine breaking the spell, and urged him on, reveling in such passion as she’d never known. Every touch of his skin charged her with emotion.
Lance lifted himself above her, whispering his love for her, nuzzling her neck, her décolletage, her stomach. She stroked his broad back, marveling at how his powerful muscles rippled beneath his skin. What a beautiful man.
After making love, they lay sated in the warm night air, taking full advantage of the cocooned privacy. They were languid, in no hurry to move.
Finally, Lance scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed. Verena snuggled beside him under a fluffy, down-filled duvet, her hand splayed across his chest, her body formed to his. Drifting off, she dreamed she was sleeping on a cloud, folded into the tender embrace of angel’s wings.
Hours later, against a dawning coral sky, they made love again. As Verena stretched in bed, Lance made cappuccinos for them.
“Ready for a morning swim?” He handed her a steaming cup.
“Hmm, sounds perfect.”
After they finished their cappuccino, they swam in the nude in their private pool. Later, they dried in the sun’s rays and traded massages. Verena loved the feel of his skin under her hands.
“Strawberries are in season,” Lance murmured as they lay tangled together in bed. It was a decadent way to start the day, and now Lance was tempting her yet again—this time with his macadamia-encrusted French toast topped with strawberries. “I’ll have my kitchen staff s
end ingredients.”
“I could live here, you know.” Verena stretched her limbs, drinking in the long expanse of Lance’s well-toned body.
“Many people have.”
“Just not on my budget,” she said, laughing. She couldn’t remember having laughed as much as she had since she’d arrived here with Lance. Being with him simply felt good.
“It doesn’t take much to be happy,” he said, kissing her on the tip of her nose. Lance rolled off the bed and plopped a robe onto the bed beside her. “In case you get cold.” He shrugged into a matching robe before padding off barefoot to the bungalow kitchen.
Verena called Mia to check on her and Pierre answered the phone, saying that he’d spent the night on a cot next to her hospital bed. They chatted a little, and then Pierre put Mia on the phone. Verena was pleased to hear her sounding stronger. And happy.
After she hung up the phone, she turned on the television while Lance made breakfast. She flicked over to the local news channel, which was featuring the reporter who had been a guest at the salon—the same reporter she and Lance had passed at the scene of Derrick and Roper’s accident. Verena moved closer to the television.
An image of the salon flashed across the screen as Caroline Wilson spoke. “The former chief operating officer of Valent Swiss Skincare, the Beverly Hills-based salon that was the subject of a recent take-over by Herringbone Capital, Jimmy Don Herald has been arrested today for the murder of Marvin Panetta, who was the CEO of National Western Bank.”
Verena gasped. She’d known in her heart that Marvin wasn’t the type to commit suicide, and now her faith in him had been vindicated.
The reporter continued. “Citing evidence found on Panetta’s computer, police say Herald killed Panetta when the banker decided to go to authorities to report Herringbone Capital’s illegal practices and threats. The coroner originally ruled Panetta’s death a suicide, but the evidence points to Herald as a prime murder suspect. If convicted, Herald will be subject to life in prison.”
