Heaven Sent

by Rochelle Alers

  Serena withdrew a sheet from the chest at the foot of the bed and spread it over David’s motionless body. His blood pressure was normal, as well as his temperature. A slight smile curved her lips. He was healing.

  Placing the back of her hand against his stubbly left cheek, she stared at the perfection of his face. David Cole had every right to be upset. The scar would mar his exquisite masculine beauty.

  “Would you like me to shave you?”

  David opened his eyes, staring up at her with large eyes that were so black that she couldn’t see into their liquid, obsidian depths. The bruise over the left one was now a deep purple instead of its former crimson.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Serena realized the deep, melodious quality of his voice for the first time. It was a low, rich, soothing baritone. She also recognized the cadence of a U.S. Southern drawl whenever he spoke English.

  “I picked up a few things for you to wear. I don’t believe it would be in your best interests to continue walking around in the nude.” Not that you don’t have a beautiful body, David Cole, she mused.

  He smiled up at her, displaying his enchanting dimples. “How can I thank you?”

  Pulling her hand away, Serena cocked her head at an angle and studied his animated features. “Thank me by getting well, David Cole.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal, Serena Morris.”

  She returned his smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  It took her less than ten minutes to retrieve the clothes she had bought him and to fill the large crock bowl with hot water. Shaving him while he lay in bed presented a problem. It would have been easier if he sat on the armchair. But she did not want to get him out of bed. Her only solution was to straddle his body.

  Removing her sandals, she knelt on the side of the bed, then hoisted a leg over his body. David gave her an incredulous look when she supported most of her weight on the heels of her feet as she perched her lithe body over his thighs.

  “Can you think of a better way?” she questioned, reaching across his body for a cloth she had placed in the bowl of hot water on the bedside table.

  He couldn’t answer her, because his body had reacted immediately to the pressure of her buttocks pressed against his groin. The only barriers between them were cotton and linen, and there was no doubt that she felt the rising of his sex under her rear end.

  Serena’s hands were shaking as she wrang the water out of the facecloth and placed it over the lower half of David’s face. What was she doing? She was sitting on a naked man who, although injured, was fully aroused. And there was no doubt that she had aroused him.

  She wanted David to close his eyes so he wouldn’t see her own reaction to his obvious desire. But he didn’t, and seconds later his gaze went from her face to her chest, where her distended nipples were visible through the lacy cups of her bra and the delicate fabric of her linen blouse.

  Her gaze widened. “Close your eyes,” she ordered in a breathless whisper.

  He complied, smiling. “That will be a lot easier to do than getting another part of my body to follow your orders. There are times when it has a mind of its own.”

  Serena felt the heat in her face sweep over all of her body. It settled between her thighs, and it took Herculean will to not respond to the pulsing hardness pressing up against her buttocks.

  Shaking a can of shaving cream, she pushed the button, and peaks of cream settled on her fingertips. She marveled that she didn’t cut or nick David as she drew the razor expertly over his jaw, circumventing the area over his left cheek where Dr. Rivera stitched the flesh together.

  She eased herself off his body, noticing that his arousal had not abated. It was apparent that her patient was a healthy, virile male who would be more than sexually adequate when having to perform.

  Sanding at the bedside, she wiped away all traces of shaving cream and applied an astringent to his smooth, brown cheeks.

  David opened his eyes for the first time since Serena had ordered that he close them. He realized that she was as affected by his body’s reaction as he was by hers. The softness of her flesh, her sensual scent of flowers and musk clinging to her skin, and the firm roundness of her bottom pressing against his sex had him close to exploding. What he did not want to do was embarrass himself by spilling his lust on the bed instead of in her body. His gaze widened in shock. He hadn’t known her twenty-four hours and he wanted her! Wanted to be inside her!

  Wanting to sleep with Serena Morris went against everything he believed in. He’d never engaged in gratuitous sex! Not ever! Not as a teenage boy nor as a popular musician. Aside from the nickname of Dracula, the members of Night Mood had also called him “The Monk,” because he refused to sleep with women when touring.

  He had always been careful to not drink too much for fear of losing control and ending up in bed with a woman who would later claim that he was the father of her baby. His retort when the band members teased him was that he wanted no part of a paternity scandal; even more than avoiding any legal entanglements or entrapments, he wanted the choice to be his when he decided to marry and father children.

  David did not know why he thought of marriage and children now. Did his thoughts have something to do with Serena Morris? Was it because she had helped save his life that he felt they were connected? That he owed her something? That perhaps he wanted to repay her by offering to share his life with her?

  He touched his jaw, savoring the feel of smooth flesh under his fingertips. A slow smile softened his mouth. “You’re much better than my barber. Thank you.”

  Wiping her hands on a towel, Serena returned his smile. “My barbering skills do not extend to haircuts. Not unless you’d like me to shave your head.”

  David ran a hand over his close-cut, graying hair. “I don’t think so.” There had been a time when he wore his shoulder-length hair in a ponytail, and he missed the long hair, black attire, and diamond stud earring from his Night Mood era.

  She dropped the razor in the bowl along with the facecloth and towel. Taking a surreptitious glance at her patient, she noticed the expression of satisfaction softening his features.

  “I’m going to help you into a pair of boxers. Then I’ll see about getting you something to eat,” she stated firmly.

  He flashed another dimpled smile. “Thank you.”

  She emptied her purchases on the foot of the bed, picking up a pair of plain white boxers. “I didn’t know your size, so I picked up a thirty-six.”

  Arching a sculpted, black eyebrow, David stared at her. “Excellent guess.” He closed his eyes as she drew back the sheet and slipped the underwear over his feet and inched it up his legs. Raising his hips slightly, he facilitated her covering up his nakedness.

  The heat in his face had nothing to do with his injury or the extra exertion. For the first time since laying eyes on Serena Morris he was embarrassed. She knew that she aroused him—there had been no way for him to conceal it—and whenever she gazed upon his nude body he knew she was now aware of him not as a patient but as a man.

  Opening his eyes, he stared at her staring at his thigh. He knew what had garnered her rapt attention. “It’s a bat,” he explained.

  “I can see that,” Serena acknowledged, staring at the distinctive outline of a bat tattooed on the inside of David Cole’s upper thigh. “Why a bat?” she questioned, pulling the sheet up and folding it back neatly over his belly.

  “I played with a jazz band in my former life. It was called Night Mood. We dressed in black, hung out all night, and slept during the day. I had affected the habit of not going to bed until I saw the sun break the horizon. The other guys got into the habit of calling me Dracula. When we returned to the States after a two-month tour of Europe we decided to get tattoos. All of the other guys selected cats.”

  It was her turn to arch her delicate eyebrows. “Why the thigh, David?” The outline of a bat with its wings outstretched was positioned where his member rested against his hard thig
h.

  “I didn’t want it visible so that I’d have to consider having it removed one day.”

  Serena gave him a skeptical look. “Is that the only reason?”

  “Should there be another one?”

  “I think so, David Cole. I think you were so vain that you didn’t want to mar your body where someone would see it.”

  “Someone?”

  Gathering the bowl and shaving materials, she gave him a sidelong glance. “Women.”

  “How wrong you are, Serena,” he drawled in Spanish. “Una mujer. Yes,” he confirmed when seeing her expression of surprise. “You are the only woman who has seen it.”

  She went still, staring at him and seeing amusement in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re—”

  “I prefer women,” he confirmed, interrupting her. “It’s just that I don’t make it a practice of sleeping with a lot of them.”

  “That’s unusual coming from a musician.”

  “Former musician.”

  “Okay,” she conceded, “a former musician.”

  “Knowing this, does that change your impression of me?”

  “No. It still doesn’t change the fact that you’re obsessed with your looks. I don’t know if anyone has ever told you, but you’re a vain peacock.”

  Instead of refuting her statement, he laughed, the sound following her out of the room and down the hall.

  Serena laughed softly to herself. David Cole was vain. And sexy; sexier than any man she had ever seen in her life. He was what Latin women called muy guapo. He was one fine man.

  Chapter 10

  David sat up in bed, his back supported by several pillows, while Serena fed him spoonfuls of a flavorful chicken soup with rice and vegetables. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he began eating. He ate all of the soup and drank half a cup of tea. His lids soon fluttered wildly as he fought against listlessness making it almost impossible to keep his eyes open; within minutes he fell into a deep, comforting sleep.

  He never knew when Serena eased the pillows from behind his back and shoulders and placed them under his head. He also was not aware that she leaned over his prone form for several seconds before leaning closer and placing a light kiss on his forehead.

  “Sleep well, David,” she whispered softly, then walked out of the room.

  Serena returned to the kitchen, smiling at Luz Maria. “He ate all of the soup, but only drank half of the tea,” she informed the cook.

  Luz Maria took the tray from Serena, returning her smile. “That’s okay. I made the tea a little stronger this time. He only needed to drink a little bit. Is he complaining about pain?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Her tea, with its natural anesthetizing properties, dulled intense pain almost immediately while causing one to fall into a deep sleep. It contained a popular herb used by Costa Rican natives for many centuries to counter infections that attacked the body.

  “Are you ready to eat?”

  Serena nodded, sitting down at a massive mahogany table that had been crafted more than a hundred years before. The skilled furniture maker had carved his name and the date on the underside of the table.

  She watched Luz Maria as she spooned a portion of soup into a bowl. The talented cook was tiny, barely five-feet in height, and weighed about one hundred pounds, and even though she prepared exquisite meals for her employer and his family she made it a practice not to eat any meat. On occasion she consumed a small amount of chicken. However, she much preferred fish and the vegetables indigenous to the region.

  Serena looked forward to eating casabe, yautía, and plátanos whenever she returned to the Central American country. She liked plátanos, or bananas, whether they were green or ripe. Luz Maria placed a bowl of soup on the table, along with a small dish filled with plátano maduro. The aroma of the lightly fried, yellow bananas wafted above the other tantalizing smells in the large kitchen.

  “Will your papa and mother return in time to share dinner with your guest tonight?” Luz questioned, waiting until after Serena had swallowed several spoonfuls of soup.

  “No. It will be Dr. Rivera and myself. My parents are going to stay in San José for a few days. They went to meet with President Montalvo and the ambassador from the United States.”

  Luz Maria crossed herself, saying a silent prayer. When she heard of Gabriel Vega’s arrest she’d begun a daily novena of lighting candles and saying prayers for his return. She could not believe he had killed anyone. She’d watched Gabriel Diego Vega grow up, and everyone who met him was taken with his gentleness and sincerity. She, like Raul Cordero-Vega, believed the people in the United States had falsely accused Gabriel of a crime he did not commit.

  Serena saw Luz Maria cross herself, knowing that the older woman had erected a shrine in her bedroom for her brother. Caring for David Cole helped to lessen her own heartache. She did not have to spend all of her waking hours thinking or crying now.

  She finished her lunch, thanked Luz Maria, then retreated to her room. She wanted to go for a walk but decided against it. The daytime temperature had gone over the ninety degree mark, making the intense heat dangerous for anyone who remained outdoors longer than necessary.

  It was time for siesta. She would wait for the early evening to walk down to the river. After her walk she would prepare herself to share dinner with Leandro Rivera.

  Removing her sandals, blouse, slacks, and underwear, she pulled a short shift over her head, then lay down on the bed. She stared up at the mosquito netting shrouding the large, four-poster bed. Warm breezes swept into the bedroom and over her exposed limbs from the open French doors leading out to the second-story veranda. Her thoughts strayed to Gabe as she willed herself not to cry. She was unsuccessful. The tears welling up behind her lids overflowed and stained her cheeks. Turning her face into the pillow, she cried silently until spent. Then she fell asleep.

  David stared up at Dr. Leandro Rivera as the doctor examined his face. “It’s healing nicely, Señor Cole.”

  “When are you going to remove the stitches?”

  Leandro smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling attractively. “They will dissolve on their own. How’s your ankle?”

  “I can’t put too much pressure on it.”

  That’s because you shouldn’t be putting any pressure on it, Serena said silently. She stood at the foot of the bed, watching Leandro take David Cole’s blood pressure. Then she saw his obvious expression of relief when he registered David’s normal body temperature.

  “Señorita Morris will assist you when you get out of bed tomorrow. I’ve instructed her to have you soak your foot and ankle in cold water to take down some of the swelling.”

  Turning his head, David looked at Serena. When she entered the room with the doctor he was shocked by the change in her appearance. Her hair was brushed off her face and secured in a tight chignon on the nape of her neck. A light cover of makeup illuminated her large, round eyes and highlighted the lushness of her full lips. She had even exchanged her perfume for one that reminded him of woodsy spices. A fitted silk sheath in vermillion red matched the vibrant color on her lips. His gaze lingered on her perfectly rounded face, noting that the large pearls in her pierced lobes were companions for a magnificent single strand draped around her long, delicate neck.

  She’s going out! And he knew without asking that she was going out with Dr. Leandro Rivera. The doctor’s tailored dark suit and silk tie were a departure from his usual linen slacks and jacket.

  Not knowing why, David felt a surge of jealousy. It wasn’t that he was in love with Serena, or even liked her a lot, but what bothered him was that she’d affected him more than any woman he’d ever met. He’d discovered earlier that afternoon that he lacked control over his sexual urges when near her and that she made him think of marrying and fathering children.

  “I hope you two have a good time tonight,” he said without warning. Leandro smiled, while Serena frowned.

  “Thank you,” Leandro returned
, confirming his suspicions.

  “I’ll check on you later,” Serena said as she turned and walked out of the bedroom. Leandro replaced his instruments in his bag and followed her.

  David’s gaze followed her retreating figure. He could see the perfection of her strong legs in a pair of red satin, sling-strap heels. She had elected to leave her legs bare, and the smooth brown color shimmered sensually over firm, lean muscle.

  And for the second time that day David felt a surge of desire that left him trembling and shaken with an urgency to bury his sex deep within the softness of her enticing body.

  Reaching over for the cup of tea on the bedside table, he gulped it quickly, smiling as sleep overtook him so that he did not have to think of Serena Morris or the man who would command her attention for the evening.

  Serena and Leandro walked slowly, side by side, as they made their way along the path leading away from La Montaña and toward the Caribbean. He had elected to park his car a quarter of a mile from the house, saying that he needed the additional exercise.

  A rising wind swept over her moist face, cooling her bared flesh. She did not know what to expect, but she had not expected her dining partner’s wicked sense of humor. They had spent the better part of two hours laughing instead of eating Luz Maria’s expertly prepared avocado and mango salad, shredded beef, white rice and black beans, steamed pumpkin, and a chilled dessert made of fresh coconut.

  The meal began with her thinking of David Cole’s dinner. He’d eaten a bowl of potato soup seasoned with rosemary, tarragon, chives, scallions, and strips of a melted yellow cheese and crispy crumbled bacon. It had pleased her that he ate all that was in the bowl, indicating he was well on the road to recovery. The absence of a fever and his healthy appetite made it a certainty that his period of convalescence would be shorter than she had originally predicted. She knew he was practically pain-free. Luz Maria’s magical tea worked as well as Demerol, without any of the addictive properties of some prescribed painkillers.

  Leandro caught her hand as he assisted her over the uneven surface of an area of the landscape. Tightening his grip, he smiled down at her upturned face. His four-wheel drive vehicle was parked less than twenty feet away, yet he had not released her fingers.