Heaven Sent

by Rochelle Alers

  Closing her eyes, she listened to cries of the birds calling to one another in the towering trees. The cacophony of sounds was nature’s orchestra serenading life. She lost track of time until a rumble of thunder, followed by a driving downpour, forced her off the veranda.

  She returned to the bedroom and glanced at a clock on the bedside table. It was only eleven-forty. She had been up for hours, and felt as if she had accomplished nothing. Some of her restlessness was because she truly had nothing to do.

  Taking care of David had not taken up much of her time. She changed his bed, gave him his shots, brought him his meals, and assisted with his grooming. Other than that he was now a patient who had required very little attention. She had only to give him injections of antibiotics and check his stitches.

  Her role at the hospital, although supervisory, was hectic and demanding. She was responsible for scheduling rotations, supervisory staff meetings, and weekly conferences with hospital administration. There were times when she complained about the responsibility, but she truly loved her profession and marveled at the ongoing successes of modern medicine.

  She made her way quietly into David’s room. A smile crinkled the skin around her eyes when she saw him leaning against the wrought-iron balustrade, eyes closed. He’d shifted most of his body’s weight to his left foot. The now softly falling rain pasted his hair to his scalp and molded his boxers to his hips and thighs. Seeing the moisture bathe his golden-brown body, droplets of water clinging to the hair on his chest, caused a rush of heat to sweep over her body like a backdraft of fire from a launching rocket.

  Serena felt like a voyeur, watching numbly as David raised his arms and right foot while slowly turning his face heavenward. He kept the position for a full minute, then lowered his arms, foot, and head. She wondered if he were perhaps meditating, or possibly praying?

  Her gaze was fixed on the perfection of his tall, muscled physique, noting the symmetry of his wide shoulders in proportion to his waist and hips. She visually measured the trim lines of his torso’s proportion to the length of his legs.

  And it was in that minute that she realized that she ached, needing him to physically make her a complete woman.

  It had been more than two years since she had lain with a man, and what she had denied, had been denying, was that she missed the intimacy.

  She missed the furtive glances, caresses, kisses, missed lying in bed, touching, missed waking in the morning to a warm, hard body next to her own, and she missed the complete possession when she accepted a man into her heart and into her body, when for a short time they would become one and she could claim him as her own.

  Moving silently across the space, she stepped out onto the veranda. Ignoring the moisture seeping into her hair and clothing, she stood inches from David, watching the serenity softening his delicate features. He had to know that she was there, but he gave no indication, he did not open his eyes.

  Something foreign, unknown, gripped her hand as she touched the center of his chest. The heat from his body almost caused her to pull her fingers away, but she did not.

  Drawing even closer, she pressed her chest to his, her arms encircling his waist. She felt a wave of embarrassment heat up her face as he stood rigid, hands at his sides.

  “Why don’t you come in out of the rain?” she urged softly.

  “I love being out in the rain,” he countered in the deep melodious tone she had come to savor. “For me it’s a renewal, a rebirth.”

  “A renewal of what?”

  Opening his eyes for the first time since Serena touched him, David stared down at her damp, curly hair. He knew the exact moment she had stepped out onto the veranda. He could detect her scented body over the redolent essence of flourishing flowers and fauna surrounding La Montaña. He realized he would be able to identify her even if blindfolded. His breathing deepened as he felt the outline of her firm breasts against his bared chest.

  “A renewal of life, Serena. Without the rain life would cease to exist. Each time it rains I think of it as a promise that the world and all that is in it will continue until the next time. Unfortunately, most of us take rain and life for granted.”

  “How true.” Her voice was a breathless whisper, lulling and pulling David in. He felt a rush of desire that he wasn’t able to control.

  The evidence of his desire was apparent. There was no way he could hide his aroused state—not with her body molded to his.

  Serena felt his heat melt into her. She wanted him, and it was more than obvious that he wanted her. It had taken only two days for her feelings and her role to change from caretaker to that of caregiver.

  She remembered his statement that he had not made it a practice to sleep with a lot of women. That may have been so, but she also instinctively knew that David Cole certainly could attract a woman.

  Her own sexual experience was limited. There were usually extended periods of time between her relationships, and if she did enter a relationship it usually was long-term.

  Her hands dropped as she attempted to pull away, but David’s hands moved quickly up to her shoulders. “Don’t leave me—not yet.” His gaze dropped to her chest, seeing the outline of her breasts against the damp T-shirt. “I want to hold you.”

  She felt his hardness pressing against her middle. She did not want him to hold her because she feared her own lack of control. How could she tell a man she’d known for two days that she wanted him to kiss her? That she wanted him to remind her that she was a woman who wanted and needed the intimacy of physical contact.

  Flashing a nervous smile, she said, “This is very unethical, David. I’m your nurse.”

  He smiled his lopsided, dimpled smile. “That’s because you’ve been unethical. Nurses normally would not share a patient’s bed, nor do they sit on their patients’ laps when shaving them.”

  Her jaw dropped. She hadn’t realized that he was aware that she had slept next to him his first night at La Montaña. “That protocol could not be avoided,” she countered.

  “And neither can this one.” Without giving her a chance to analyze his statement, he slipped his arms down her body, his fingers encircling her waist as he lifted her off her feet until her head was even with his.

  Her hands moved up his shoulders, her arms slipping around his neck. Holding tightly to keep her balance, she wasn’t given the opportunity to protest as David angled his head until his mouth moved over hers, staking its claim. She felt the demanding pressure of his mouth, savoring the heated contact of flesh meeting flesh.

  Then it was over as quickly as it had begun. He lowered her until her sandaled feet touched the solid surface of the veranda floor, unaware of the effort it took for him to maintain his balance while picking her up. If he hadn’t used the wrought-iron railing for support, the action would’ve proved disastrous. If he had fallen forward he would have crushed her. Not only would he have caused further injury to himself, but her as well.

  “I’m ready to go in now.” His breathing was labored, as if he had run a grueling race. Tasting her mouth confirmed that his body was in concert with what he was beginning to feel for her. It wasn’t gratitude for her caring for his injuries, but his wanting her the way a man wanted a woman.

  Pulling out of his loose embrace, Serena turned and reentered his bedroom. “Aren’t you going to help me?” he called out to her retreating back.

  Not turning around, she curled her fingers into tight fists. Her body was going through all of the familiar changes associated with sexual arousal. Her breasts felt hot and heavy and the pulsing center between her thighs made her knees tremble.

  “Who helped you get out of bed and walk out there?” Tension hardened her sultry voice. She was angry and annoyed that she had lost herself in the man and in the moment.

  The erotic vision of watching him standing in the rain, wearing only a pair of white, cotton boxers lingered in her mind. She could still see the contrast of his rich, brown body against the white fabric, recall the definition i
n his arms as he’d raised them above his head, and remember the warmth of his body when she’d placed her hand against his chest. The sights were enough to make her lower her guard so much that she would permit her own body to ache for a man.

  David stared at her petite figure. There was no doubt that she was angry with him.

  And he was surprised at his own reaction to Serena. It wasn’t that he was celibate. What he was was very controlled. He had gotten used to women coming on to him and learned to counteract their advances before he entered his twenties. He always wanted to want a woman, not the reverse. He did not want to want Serena Morris, though, but his body would not follow the dictates of his brain.

  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.

  Chapter 13

  David 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.