Touch of Heaven

by Maureen Smith

  The moment he first saw her, wafting down the stairs where he’d been patiently waiting for her at the bottom, the air had rushed out of his lungs, and his heart had lodged painfully in his throat. She was a vision in that dress. An absolute goddess. The silk hugged her sublime curves, and the soft green color beautifully complemented her golden-brown skin, just as Warrick had known it would. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant chignon that accentuated the slender, graceful column of her neck and made him want to kiss and caress her nape. And he didn’t want to stop there. He really didn’t want to stop there.

  She’d smiled shyly and murmured an apology for taking so long, but Warrick had been so thunderstruck that he’d hardly heard a word she’d said. He must have stood there gaping like an idiot, because after another moment Mr. Gibbons had cleared his throat and discreetly nudged him.

  An hour and a half later, Warrick was still mesmerized every time he looked at Raina.

  The view from their table was perfect. Lush foliage surrounded the veranda. A gentle summer breeze carried the scents of hibiscus and jasmine, and the sky held the promise of a breathtaking sunset.

  But Warrick only had eyes for Raina.

  The sound of her soft, smoky laughter suddenly lured him out of his trance. “I just want you to know,” she drawled in an amused voice, “that you’re making me feel very self-conscious.”

  Warrick smiled a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.”

  “Then stop staring at me like that,” she suggested, those entrancing dark eyes twinkling with mirth.

  “I can’t help it,” Warrick admitted huskily. “You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Raina.”

  She blushed prettily. “Thank you, Warrick. Now will you promise me that you won’t say that again for at least the rest of the evening?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t make that kind of promise.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’d probably break it within seconds of making it. You’re beautiful. See what I mean? It just keeps slipping out.”

  Raina laughed, shaking her head in helpless exasperation.

  Warrick smiled softly at her. He was glad she’d decided to forgive him for the unconscionable way he’d behaved last night. When he’d got up that morning—on the wrong side of the bed, because he’d tossed and turned all night—he’d fully expected to encounter a cold, resentful woman. To his surprise, Raina had been friendly and cheerful. Too damned friendly and cheerful. Which had only made him feel worse.

  But she’d called him out on his foul mood, and just like that, the air had been cleared, allowing them to enjoy a relaxing afternoon at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, followed by a leisurely stroll along the Benjamin Franklin Parkway. Warrick had visited the art museum and walked along that scenic route countless times before, but he’d never enjoyed those experiences as thoroughly as he had today with Raina by his side. There was something about her, something about being with her, that made the simplest things seem profoundly special. Magical.

  Like now.

  Sitting at that cozy table with her, Warrick felt an indescribable sense of contentment wash over him. He could have stayed there with Raina all night, although she probably wouldn’t appreciate missing the orchestra, which she’d looked forward to all day.

  They finished their meals and ordered dessert, although they both laughingly agreed—after the waiter left—that nothing on the menu could be as good as the double-chocolate tart Sonny had served them last night.

  Smiling across the table at Warrick, Raina said teasingly, “I bet you and Stephon used to compete over girls all the time back in college.”

  Warrick chuckled. “What makes you say that?”

  “Just a hunch. Am I right?”

  “You are,” he admitted, smiling lazily. “But I’d like to think it was a healthy competition.”

  “Healthy, huh?”

  “Yeah. We were so eager to outdo each other and impress the ladies that it kept us on our best behavior.” When Raina arched a dubious brow at him, he grinned. “Well, not always. But it’s the thought that counts.”

  “Of course.”

  “Hey, at least we respected each other’s territory. If I knew Stephon was really into someone, I backed off, and vice versa. We never let any woman come between our friendship.”

  Although that had nearly changed today, Warrick mused darkly, remembering how murderous he’d felt that morning when Stephon had been on the verge of asking Raina out on a date. He’d wanted to haul Stephon across the room and toss him out the damned window, a violent urge that had surprised him. This whole jealousy thing was as new to Warrick as all the other emotions he’d been experiencing lately.

  Raina smiled at him. “I really enjoyed taking the tour of your company this morning. You have some amazing people working for you.”

  “Thank you for saying that,” Warrick murmured. “They are amazing. Every last one of them. I feel very fortunate.”

  “I’m sure they feel the same way. In fact, I know they do. When you got called away to the phone, a group of them told me how much they love working at Mayne Industries. Not only do you pay exceptionally well and offer generous benefits, they said, but the culture you’ve created is nothing like the cold corporate environments many of them had experienced at other jobs. One of them described Mayne Industries as a ‘world-class company with a warm, family feel.’”

  Warrick grinned, even as his chest swelled with pride and satisfaction. “Whoever told you that is getting a very nice raise.”

  Raina laughed.

  “You made quite an impression yourself,” Warrick said, adding sourly, “Especially on Stephon.”

  Grinning, Raina shook her head at him. “Why does that bother—”

  “Hello, Warrick,” a brittle feminine voice interrupted.

  Warrick glanced up and inwardly groaned when he saw the statuesque, long-haired woman who had appeared at the table. Angela Harvey, the attorney he’d met a couple of weeks ago. Damn, he’d forgotten all about her.

  “I thought that was your limo parked outside the restaurant,” Angela said coolly, her red lips twisted accusingly. “I didn’t even know you were back in town.”

  “It was a last-minute decision,” Warrick said evenly. He glanced across the table at Raina, who was watching the exchange with a strained expression.

  Warrick bit back a sigh of frustration. Damn it. Just when everything seemed to be going so well between them.

  He rose from the table. “Angela, I’d like you to meet—”

  “I’m not interested in meeting your newest little plaything!” Angela snapped, her dark eyes flashing with fury. She raked a contemptuous glance over Raina and sneered, “She looks kind of young, Warrick. Even for you.”

  Raina scowled. Before she could open her mouth to defend herself, Warrick shot her a warning look before returning his attention to Angela. A hushed silence had swept over the veranda. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several people staring at them, alerted by Angela’s sudden outburst.

  Warrick clenched his jaw, his gaze boring into hers. Very deliberately, keeping his voice low and controlled, he said, “Look around you. What if one of your clients is here? Do you really want them to see you making a scene in public?”

  Angela barked out a harsh laugh. “Don’t try to pretend you’re worried about my reputation,” she jeered. “The only person you care about is yourself, Warrick Mayne!”

  His expression hardened. “If you say so. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish my dinner in peace.”

  Her nostrils flared. As her eyes shot to the table and homed in on his freshly refilled wineglass, Warrick read the intent in her gaze. Before she could reach down and snatch the glass, he caught her wrist midair.

  “Don’t.”

  Angela stared into his rigid face, seeing the lethal warning in his eyes. With a strangled cry of frustration she yanked her wrist free, then spun on her heel and hurried away.

  Warrick
watched her go, his temper simmering. After taking a deep, calming breath, he smoothed down his silk tie and sat back down, ignoring the scandalized stares and whispers of the other diners. He didn’t give a damn what strangers thought of him. But he did care what Raina thought, and judging by the way she was looking at him, it wasn’t good.

  “Sorry about that,” he murmured.

  Raina just shook her head. Warrick could tell by the thinly veiled disgust on her face that the spectacle she’d just witnessed hadn’t shocked her. Instead it had only reinforced her opinion of him as a shameless womanizer, a reputation he’d gained over the years after a string of high-profile breakups.

  Warrick swore viciously under his breath. “Raina—”

  She threw up a hand. “Despite what she assumed, I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me any explanation.”

  Warrick snapped his mouth shut.

  An awkward silence settled over the table. The relaxed camaraderie he and Raina had enjoyed before Angela’s appearance was gone, perhaps for good this time. Warrick mourned the loss, even as his temper flared at the unjustness of it.

  He shoved back his chair and stood. “Excuse me,” he said tersely.

  Raina stared at him as he turned and strode purposefully from the veranda.

  Angela and two of her friends were standing in the elegant reception area, waiting to be seated. The two women appeared to be consoling Angela, whose head was bobbing angrily as she ranted about what had just happened. Only her friends saw Warrick barreling down on them, their eyes widening so dramatically that he would have laughed if there were anything remotely funny about the situation.

  Angela was saying, “And he had the nerve—”

  “Come with me,” Warrick growled, seizing her wrist and dragging her down the tiled corridor to a private alcove around the corner from the restrooms.

  Angela stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Are you—”

  “What the hell was that little stunt you just pulled?” he demanded, cutting her off.

  She folded her arms defiantly across her chest. “All right. Maybe I lost my head a little.”

  “Maybe?” Warrick thundered incredulously.

  “I’m sorry!” she burst out. “I didn’t know how else to react when I saw you sitting at the table with that woman. You’re not even supposed to be in town!”

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Did I miss something here? Since when do I have to check in with you before I come and go? When did I put a damned ring on your finger?”

  Angela flinched, her face flushing with humiliation. “I never thought—”

  “Sure as hell could have fooled me, the way you just performed back there!” He shook his head, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. And maybe he hadn’t. The vengeful, hysterical woman who’d just made a fool of herself on the veranda bore no resemblance whatsoever to the smart, witty, confident attorney Warrick had met a few weeks ago.

  Angela said bitterly, “I’ve been calling you every day since you left, and you didn’t even have the decency to respond to any of my messages. What was I supposed to think when I showed up here and saw you with another woman?”

  Warrick stared at her, dumbfounded. “We’ve never even been on a real date, Angela. We’ve gone out for drinks a couple times, and that’s it. Where do you get off acting like we had something more than that?”

  Hurt flared in her eyes. “Because I thought we did. I thought we really had a connection, Warrick, but I guess I was wrong. All those tabloid stories I’ve read about you are obviously true, and that child out there is obviously your latest conquest!”

  Warrick scowled. “First of all, she’s not a child. She’s thirty damned years old. And she’s not my conquest.”

  “Yeah, right,” Angela scoffed, her lips twisting cynically. “I suppose you’re also going to tell me she’s just a friend, right? She’s just an old, long-lost friend you’ve known since childhood, right?”

  “Actually,” Warrick snarled, “I’ve known her since I was sixteen. Does that count as childhood?”

  Angela faltered, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe whatever the hell you want. And while you’re at it, Angela, lose my damned number.”

  “Warrick, wait!” she cried out, grabbing his arm as he started away. “I’m sorry. I overreacted, okay? Believe me, I’ve never behaved that way before. When I wake up tomorrow morning and remember what I did tonight, I’m going to be mortified. All I can say in my defense is that I’m really feeling you, Warrick. I was looking forward to spending more time with you and getting to know you better.”

  Warrick stopped and turned, his jaw flexing as he gazed down at her. “Believe it or not, Angela, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I think you’re a smart, accomplished woman, and any man would be lucky to have you. But it won’t be me.”

  Her chin quivered. “I was playing hard to get!” she burst out desperately. “That’s why we haven’t been on a real date, Warrick. Not because I couldn’t make time for you in my busy schedule, for God’s sake. It’s because I didn’t want you to think I was too easy. I thought you wanted a challenge. A woman who wouldn’t sleep with you right away, like all the others. But if you want—”

  “I don’t,” Warrick said almost gently. “And it has nothing to do with you. Take care of yourself, Angela.”

  With that he turned and walked away, heading back to Raina, hoping that what had been an incredibly perfect evening could be salvaged, though somehow he knew better.

  Chapter 15

  Several hours later, Warrick stood at the window in his study nursing a cold beer and gazing out at the moonlit grounds of his estate. By the crack of dawn tomorrow, employees from a local rental company would arrive to begin setting up carnival rides and inflatable games, and Sonny and his catering staff would commandeer the kitchen, snarling at anyone who dared to enter. By midafternoon the south lawn would be overrun with hundreds of laughing, frolicking children with paint smeared over their faces and their fingers sticky from cotton candy as they raced from one amusement to another.

  It was going to be a long day.

  But the thoughts dominating Warrick’s mind that night had nothing to do with tomorrow’s Fourth of July party. Even if he’d been in charge of the preparations—which he wasn’t—it wouldn’t have mattered.

  For the second night in a row, sleep had eluded him. And there was only one reason why.

  Raina.

  Just as he’d feared, the remainder of the evening had been a bust. Although the orchestra had been pitch perfect and he and Raina had had the best seats in the house, nothing could have undone the damage caused by Angela Harvey’s outburst at the restaurant. Raina had been withdrawn for the rest of the night, and when they’d returned to the house, she’d retreated to her room as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  If Warrick could have strangled Angela and gotten away with it, he would have.

  Rousing himself from his grim musings, he turned and started back toward his desk, where he’d been designing schematics for a new pipeline project in Lake Charles, Louisiana.

  When a movement across the room caught his eye, he glanced up.

  And froze.

  Raina stood in the doorway, and for the life of him he couldn’t fathom why his heart thumped violently at the sight of her. He wished he could blame it on being startled by her sudden appearance, but he knew better. The woman had been wreaking havoc on his nervous system for the past five days. Why should this time be any different?

  Lifting his beer to his mouth, he gave her a once-over. While he had only removed his suit jacket and tie in the hours since they’d been back, Raina had changed for bed, though Warrick couldn’t tell what she wore beneath the long silk robe that was belted tightly at her waist, teasing his imagination. With her hair scooped into a loose ponytail and her face scrubbed clean of makeup, she looked fresh and wholesome, and as young as Angela had assumed she was.

&
nbsp; As Raina stood across the room watching him with a silent, brooding expression, Warrick wondered how long she’d been there. More to the point, why was she there?

  “Are you lost?” he murmured.

  She shook her head. “I came downstairs to get a glass of water, and I saw your light on.”

  Warrick gazed at her. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “No.”

  “Neither could I.”

  Their eyes held for a long moment.

  “I’m testing a theory,” Raina said softly.

  “A theory?”

  She nodded. “If I don’t go to bed mad at you, then maybe I can actually get some sleep.”

  “I see.” His mouth twitched. “And how do you intend to get over being mad at me?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose by talking to you until I’m not mad anymore.”

  “Ah.” Warrick swallowed a smile, ridiculously pleased by the simple proposition. “Makes sense.”

  Raina just looked at him.

  Smothering a soft chuckle, he walked over to his desk and sat down. When he glanced up again she was still standing in the doorway.

  He raised an amused brow at her. “Are you waiting for an invitation?”

  “Are you extending one?”

  “Yes, Raina,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Please come in.”

  He watched as she wandered slowly into the room, glancing around casually. “You sure do like mahogany,” she murmured.

  “Is that a criticism?”

  “No, just an observation. And a compliment. You have excellent taste.”

  She said it matter-of-factly, without inflection, as if she were a bored queen bestowing favor upon a loyal subject. If Warrick had still been standing, he would have bowed in grateful submission.

  “What’re you working on?” Raina asked, approaching his desk.

  “Work stuff.”

  “I can see that. What kind of work stuff?”

  When he told her about the Lake Charles project, she gave him a bemused smile. “But you’re the CEO, with an army of engineers and project managers at your disposal. Why would you have such a hands-on role in the designing of a pipeline?”