by Sherie Keys
HER HEART WAS IN
HAVANA
INTERNATIONAL ALPHAS SERIES
SHERIE KEYS
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Summary
“Her Heart Was In Havana...But could she leave it there?”
Catherine Ruby had worked hard to become one of the top brain surgeons in America. There was no one else out there who could do some of the things she could do.
And handsome billionaire Michael Francis knew this.
So much so, that he wanted to fly her to Havana, Cuba to see if she could save his brother's life. Money was no object.
And whilst Catherine went to Havana to keep a heart beating, she never expected her own heart to be stolen by the charismatic billionaire.
Could she really be about to give up everything she ever worked for to remain in the tropical paradise? Or would she have no choice but to leave her heart in Havana and return to reality?
Download now and escape for the day with this tropical billionaire romance that is heavy on the love-making and even heavier on the passion. Keep reading to discover a surprise twist that you were not expecting and even bigger surprise (happy) ending. You won't want to miss this!
Copyright Notice
Her Heart Was In Havana © 2018, Sherie Keys
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Contents
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
chapter 8
chapter 9
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
chapter 14
Chapter1
Dr. Catherine Ruby sat in her office with a thick stack of papers in front of her, a few pages dangling in her hand as she carefully read over the tiny text. The other hand mindlessly picked up a few almonds from a jar as she worked on reviewing the most recent brain surgery case she and her team had worked on here at Robinson Medical Center in New York City. Her desk was cluttered with other reports, notepads, books, pens, and organizers that weren’t doing much organizing.
Her dark brown eyes moved quickly across the page while her thin, shaped brows were narrowed with deep focus. She leaned over the pile, her tall, lean frame slouched in exhaustion from her long shift in the operating room. Her black locks of hair fell in thick waves down to her shoulders and in front of her eyes; her fingers gently swept them back, only for the stubborn curls to fall again. She wore her white doctor’s coat, with Dr. Ruby stitched neatly in powder blue across her heart. Her mocha skin glowed warmly in the rays of sunshine that poured through her open window.
It was late spring in the city, and while Catherine wanted nothing more than to get through this report, all she could think about was a hike out at one of the state parks in Dutchess County, New York. A walk with her Jack Russell terrier mix, Rascal, was just what she needed right now to clear her aching, tired mind. She gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair, fingers knit behind her head as she stretched back. She slowly swiveled the chair around and looked out to the grounds below.
Her office sat on the second floor and had a gorgeous view of the large pond that sat behind the building. The woods between the clinic and the city beyond were finally covered in greenery and blooming flowers after a long, cold, grey winter. She let the warmth of the light bathe her skin, taking in the soft breeze that smelled of lilac trees and the drying rain from the night before.
With mischievous eyes and a look of amusement, Dr. Ruby slid her heels off and stretched stiff toes. She felt herself relax as she rotated her ankles, and the tension began to leave her body with each flex. She reached up and stretched. The muscles in her back and arms released the cramps she had built up all day from leaning over pages and pages of reports. With a wistful smile, she reclined and propped her feet up on the open window sill and closed her eyes.
“Oh, if only I could have more of these moments,” she whispered to herself.
The birds chirped loudly, and a couple of squirrels argued and chattered on the soft lawn and in the branches. Just beyond this small, secluded piece of nature-filled property, the city hummed with life. Cars honked and beeped, music blared and jammed, people shouted and laughed, and the rhythm of the busy borough carried on. Catherine sat for just a few moments, taking in the familiar sounds and letting it calm her frazzled nerves. With a sudden start, the phone on her desk rang loudly. The intercom crackled to life, and she heard the voice of the secretary, Mrs. Lewis, on the other end.
“Dr. Ruby, you have a call on line one from a Michael Francis of Francis Medical Innovations. Are you able to take it?”
She opened her eyes with a look of slight confusion. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She turned back around with a slow exhale, then leaned forward and held down the button to respond.
“Yes, please send him over. Thank you, Mrs. Lewis.”
She waited a moment until it rang then picked up the old, worn out red corded phone and perked up as she answered.
“Dr. Catherine Ruby, how can I help you, Mr. Francis?” her greeting was upbeat and cheery.
“Hello, Dr. Ruby. I’m Michael Francis, the founder of Francis Medical Innovations, do you have a few minutes to talk?” the voice was smooth and deep, velvety even.
She brightened at the sound, curious as to why the founder of a company that created and manufactured different health related devices was calling her.
“As a matter of fact, I was just taking a break from my case reports. What can I help you with today?” She grabbed a messy notepad from her stack along with a black-ink pen that smeared too much, as she listened to Mr. Francis speak.
“I’m currently running a medical center out of Havana, Cuba. I know to many American doctors that seems strange, but they allow testing to be done for new devices much quicker than in the States.”
She could hear him rummaging through drawers in the background, crinkling packaged goods, and dropping a heavy item onto the floor. Catherine let herself fall back in the chair and returned her gaze to the window.
“I see, Mr. Francis, but what does that have to do with the work of a brain surgeon?” she asked inquisitively.
“Well, this call is for two reasons. One is business, the other is personal. A preference to which you hear first?”
She could hear the dry sarcasm at the end of his line and replied with a snicker, “The floor is yours, sir.”
“Alright, business first. I’m working on a new device that will allow you to work down to an almost microscopic
level, decrease incision site size drastically, and allow surgeons like you to embrace health technology on a whole new level.” He paused with a grunt as he moved some sort of heavy object as he spoke.
“You have my attention,” she responded, her demeanor shifting to a more serious tone.
“Personally, I want you to test it on my brother. He has been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, and no doctor here will touch it.”
A moment lingered between them. On his end, she could hear the pause of his work as he waited for her reaction. She realized she was holding her breath; his words weren’t what she’d been expecting.
“I see, may I ask why you decided to call me in particular? Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but there are a lot of brain surgeons out there,” she asked curiously.
As she listened to his response, she leaned forward and peered out the window down at the lawn where the two squirrels were now chasing each other.
“Every write up on you talks about how you are the number one up and coming innovative brain surgeon in the United States. That’s the exact kind of doctor I want on my team and working on my brother.”
“That’s a lot to think about, Mr. Francis. I’m interested, but I’m assuming you need me there sooner rather than later to get a handle on your brother’s case?”
He paused, and she heard him take a seat in a creaky chair.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, that’s why I’ll start your pay at five hundred thousand a week.”
Catherine laughed out loud. She couldn’t help the reaction, and her hand quickly went over a sealed mouth to restrain herself. She shook her head at the lack of control and returned to the conversation.
“Are you serious?” she asked with a higher tone than before.
“I don’t joke about money, Dr. Ruby. I’ll be happy to compensate you for uprooting your life to come spend a couple months in Havana. I know it’s sudden and a far cry from New York City, but you’ll come around to enjoying the tropical weather.”
She could hear what she imagined to be the smirk in his voice as he spoke. The response made her face light up in excitement, but she kept her calm composure. She needed to be sure this was the real deal and do her own research to find out exactly what this gentleman was all about. She pulled herself together and returned her attention to Mr. Francis.
“I would like to consider your offer, Mr. Francis. Would that be alright?”
“I hope you would take some time to think about it,” he chuckled reassuringly, “if you jumped right on it, I’d consider you one hell of a daredevil.”
“Well, I better get to it then, what would be a good number to reach you ?”
Her pen scratched quickly against the thick paper, and the black ink bled as she jotted down the digits.
“I appreciate you contacting me today, Mr. Francis.” She looked back to the landscape outside her office and nodded, “I'll give you an answer once I’ve had some time to think it over a bit.”
“Thank you, Dr. Ruby, for taking the time to speak with me. Oh, and please call me Michael,” he replied as the sound of his movement picked up again.
“Excellent, thank you, Michael. We’ll talk soon, take care.”
“Oh, and ju—” before he could finish, Catherine had hung up the phone.
She looked around the room as if expecting a camera crew to pop out from behind her plants and capture her reaction when they told her it was a prank. She sighed and let out a chuckle.
“No way this guy is the real deal,” she told herself as she reached down and booted up her laptop, her fingers resting on the keyboard as she waited for the machine to start.
She laughed again. “No, nobody offers anyone that kind of money.”
She typed the name of the company and his name into the search bar, then the results loaded and the company website showed up. The homepage was clean and bright, with images of devices rotating across the screen. She quickly glanced at each before hitting the “About Us” section. An image of whom she presumed to be Michael Francis appeared. Her eyes widened. He was impressively handsome and much taller than the rest of his team. He beamed with a bright smile, short black hair, a well-trimmed beard, and dark blue eyes that glistened as they watched the camera.
She read on, her mind racing as she began to soak up the information. About a decade ago, as a young entrepreneur, Michael had set out to use his knowledge of biomedical technology which he had gained at John Hopkins University. Not even a graduate, he focused on sleep apnea and the outdated, cumbersome CPAP machines that were available. He worked to streamline the large device into a smaller unit, and then he went smaller and smaller until he created something entirely new.
Rather than utilizing a mask with obnoxious attachments, this new technology was tube free. It was small enough to fit in the palm of your hand and didn’t need any straps or fastenings, as it was fitted to your nose and stayed there all night. It revolutionized the industry and was a huge hit. It became the top selling medical device in history, launching him and his company into the multibillion-dollar industry.
But he didn’t stop there. He tackled all the medical equipment he could, attempting to make each one better than ever imagined. Ultrasounds, MRI machines, PET scans, infusion pumps, medical laser, LASIK, ventilators, incubators, and so much more decorated the list. Catherine realized that much of the recently bought equipment in her very own clinic had been altered and made by his company. She wasn’t sure how she had never heard his success story, but she was impressed.
She clicked out of his site and over to the news—a company this large and invested always carried some baggage. As the headlines scrolled by with announcements of new technologies and devices, one in particular caught her attention. She bit her lip and a look of bewilderment spread across her face as she opened the page.
“What in the world...” she whispered while her eyes darted over the text.
Michael had recently been exiled after a three-year case in which he and the United States were fighting over a funded terrorist operation. The FBI had connected funds he donated to an explosion in Turkey that was led by a radical group against civilians. Over fifteen people had died, and they believed it was his money that bought and supplied those weapons.
She swallowed hard as she felt her throat go dry. Her stomach dropped and she felt a wave of unease wash over her as she continued.
To this day, Michael was fighting for his innocence. His side of the story stated that he had made a donation to a certified state hospital, but the place had pulled the wool over the government's eyes and was a cover for the radical group. When he tried to back up his evidence with a witness, the man had been slain in what was thought to be a murder. She felt herself grow cold as she read. The thought of someone being entrenched in issues with such a global context was almost unfathomable to her, yet he was being accused of supplying terrorists—not something to be taken lightly.
With a sudden click, she shut the laptop. She felt herself becoming overwhelmed, and she needed to take her eyes off the screen. She stood up and turned to the window. The sun had moved quite a bit, and early evening now hung in the sky. The bright day had turned to dark shades of yellows, oranges, blues, and turquoise. There was another hour left, and while she couldn’t make it to the state park today, she and Rascal could certainly still make it around the block for a walk in the local park.
She stood and gathered her laptop and papers. With a quick motion, she swung the satchel over her shoulder and headed out the door. All she needed right now was a good walk to clear her mind and help her decide what to do next.
****
Catherine picked up the slobber-covered tennis ball and threw it over the small field for Rascal to chase; his tongue lolled out as he watched her with intense, quivering eyes. His feet scampered as he took off after his treasured possession, little yips and barks emitting from his scruffy muzzle as he sprinted on. She smiled and gave a small laugh at his ridiculous grumbles and grunts w
hile he ran. He had brought her nothing but joy and laughter since she rescued him three years ago. It was on nights like this, when she had to mull over tough decisions, that she was incredibly thankful for her furry best friend.
She gave a soft sigh and pulled out her phone. With a slide of her finger, the screen glowed to life, and she pulled up Michael’s number. She knew in order to make her decision, she needed to talk to him again. She needed to hear his side. While it was a risky move to take an offer from an exiled American in Havana, she knew that the money she earned could go towards causes she never dreamed of contributing to. This was a life-changing offer.
She hit call and listened as the rings seemed to drag on far too long. She tapped her foot impatiently as Rascal came back with the ball and dropped the muddy toy beside her. His eyes watched as he waited for another throw. She reached down, grabbed it, and launched the tiny, worn out sphere over the dewy grass. The phone clicked, and she heard that silky voice answer.