“Why aren’t you happy?” she asked.
Diego quelled his surprise. “Too much work. Never should have brought the fax. Technology is everywhere.”
“A curse. Don’t you have a secretary?”
“I have Luz. She lives with me, but is not entirely efficient.”
“Is she your significant other?”
Luckily he was familiar with this term. “No. We are related by blood.”
“It’s hard to fire family.”
He sat next to Mercedes, not touching, but close enough to have her scent waft over him, a sweet fragrance deeper than that of the purple orchids that had clung to a vine in the rain forest. What a conversational plus not to have to ask Mercedes’ astrological sign! Those days had not passed quickly enough. “What do you do?” An overused question, but an acceptable ice-breaker.
“I’m starting as an intern at the Pascuas Museum in New York. My great aunt supported their efforts. It’s a trial run.” Her hand fluttered to her neck. “I’m career hopping. I used to work for a big corporation in the city.”
“You have completed your Masters?”
“Not yet.”
“I know the Pascuas. I’m on the board.”
In a swift movement he admired, she stood. He kept his gaze on her delightful face. “You are leaving?” Too distracted by her appeal, he stated the obvious and felt a fool.
“No longer enough starlight. How could I spot a rogue wave on a night like this?”
“If you like, I will walk you to your door. There might be creeps around.” She laughed the sound soft and throaty. Encouraged, he continued. “You are free to use my pool. The deepest end is only sixteen feet.”
“Thank you. That depth sounds bearable. It’s volumes of water and the image of me floating on top that gives me the shakes.”
When they reached her door Diego extended pool privileges to her sister.
“How do you know Annie?”
“I saw another woman staying at the house. There’s a family resemblance.”
“She’s shorter and really pregnant.”
“You could address your fear of the deep by coming for a ride on my yacht.”
“No.”
He shrugged. “The offer stands. If you get up your nerve, let me know. The ocean can be merciless, but also fun.” In the cone of light issued from the lamp of her beachfront door, Diego studied her face. She showed no fear of him or rejection, merely registered a distraction brought on by thoughts of her sister. “I won’t take you over any abyssal canyons.”
She rested her hand on the doorknob. “Good. That would be very ungentlemanly.”
“Yes.” He walked away wishing she would follow. The moment Diego entered his house Luz’s voice poked holes in his fantasies.
“There’s a glitch. Remember that really old crate from the castle vault?”
“No.”
“Well, somebody got their wires crossed and sent it. Do you want the shipment to go to the exhibit? I can get rid of the crawlies, repack it, make it presentable for the museum.”
“If the contents are artifacts, they must be included in the exhibit. They must join the other items being returned to Peru. I assume we have the appropriate papers?”
“We took care of that formality centuries ago.”
“I want to shed any reminders of the days when I raged. After this exhibit closes and the pieces reach the Pascuas Segundo in Lima, I will no longer be a collector. I will have left behind that part of my past.”
“But Master, we keep replicas.”
“That is true, but they are like me. I am a replica of the human I once was, a different thing entirely.”
“Yes, Master. The other crates are on their way to the museum. I’ll tell the curator to expect a surprise addition. One more thing. Should I wait for your delivery from South America?”
She referred to his supply of canned cow’s blood. “No. I will handle it.”
“You haven’t slept today.”
“Go to bed. I can take care of myself.”
“So you say. I am gone.”
Diego watched her hop up the carpeted stairs to her bedroom probably stepping to a rock tune. It had been ages since he slept above ground. Restless from too much solitude, he returned to the deck that faced the ocean. Traveling with Mercedes on his yacht must soon become something real. Tomorrow at the market he would see her in sunlight. If he could learn the color of her eyes, the painful rays would mean nothing.
Chapter 2
Mercedes held a cup of coffee taken from the machine on the counter. “I talked to Diego last night. We can use his pool and I’ve been invited on his boat.” She extracted a pen and notepad from a nearby drawer and started checking the shelves in the pantry and refrigerator.
Annie sipped orange juice. “I know all about him from the internet. You haven’t asked me the most important question.”
“Not now. I’m writing the grocery list.” Mercedes wrinkled her brow. “All right. You’ve ruined my concentration. What’s the big question?”
“`Is he single’?”
“Okay, I give. What’s the big answer?”
“He’s a bachelor, never married.”
“How old?”
“The newspaper didn’t say, but I’m guessing mid-thirties.”
Mercedes folded the list and tucked it into the pocket of her royal blue shorts. “Doesn’t matter, Sis. He’s out of our league.”
“The rich and famous marry ordinary folk.”
“And live happily ever after? Silly girl.” She kissed the top of her sister’s head. “See you in an hour.”
“Don’t rush. By the way, Dr. Mendez’s sending a tech to take blood.”
“Is he worried?”
Annie shrugged. “Better safe, blah blah, than sorry.” That’s the old boy’s motto.”
* * *
Diego smelled the organic grapes and added them to his shopping cart. Even if he could no longer eat food without a violent protest from his body, the basic scents fed his soul. Perhaps he was remiss in saying that. Did he still have a soul he wondered?-?
After choosing two peaches, he glanced up to find Mercedes looking in his direction. Her green eyes rested on his and he swam in her Caribbean shallows. Her black hair lay tucked behind her shell ears and wisps of curls escaped to frame her face. A hesitant smile smoothed her lips. “Good morning,” he said. “I hope you slept well.”
“I’ve got fresh air plus pounding waves. Who could resist?” She reached for a cantaloupe and he joined her. Many exotic fruits lay next to the melons. The selection reminded him of the fondness he had developed for the tropical fruits of Peru, especially the wild mango.
Mercedes offered him a cantaloupe. “Is this ripe?”
He held the fruit in his hands and tested the softness. He breathed the aroma. While he pretended to concentrate on the melon, his imagination toyed with claiming her lips. She stepped back and ended the enchantment. “Here,” he said. “This one is perfect.” As was she dressed casually as beach life demanded -durable material for her shorts and a soft blouse popular for its comfort.
Her eyes flashed unease and distrust. “Why are you here? Doesn’t your assistant do the shopping?”
“Luz is in charge of an exhibit. Her duties this morning concern bills of lading and final discussions with a curator.”
“Isn’t she awfully young for such responsibility?”
Diego could barely keep the smile from his lips. Could it be true? Could Mercedes be jealous? Comforting, but jealousy was not an emotion he fed off in this century. “She appears youthful and has tendencies in vogue now, but she is a skilled business woman. Her appearance and demeanor reflect an artistic temperament.”
His neighbor headed for the vegetable counter. Diego followed. Shopping proved a novel experience, one he enjoyed because of the company. They filled their carts with greenery and stood in line. She extracted a cell phone from her large straw purse and called her sister. The conver
sation stole color from her cheeks. When she disengaged, daggers of suspicion emanated from her eyes. “What is it?” he asked. For the past hundred years he had limited his access to private thoughts. Occasionally, he broke the rule, but not today. Conquering people was no longer what he did.
“My sister’s hooked up with your assistant for lunch. Annie told me not to rush because Luz’s making paella.”
“Hmm. The exhibit must be problem free.” He hesitated then made the suggestion that seemed appropriate. “Why don’t we have lunch? People speak highly of The Swan. It overlooks the bay. You’ll be able to monitor the water for surprises.”
The unanswered question hung in the air while she paid the clerk and made arrangements to have her order delivered. She waited for him to do the same. Outside he moved under an ancient willow away from shoppers and out of the sun.
Mercedes closed in. “Did you send Luz to my house?”
“I do not have to connive to get a date.” That rejoinder set her back. She weighed her response with a bewitching shift of her shoulders.
“Okay, I’ll join you, but I’m not dressed for someplace fancy.”
“It is summer. Everyone is in shorts.”
“We’ll take separate cars.”
Except the right rear tire of her vehicle had gone flat. He thanked the rusted nail. A woman of action, she bent to assess the situation. His impertinent gaze lingered on her legs and the taut muscles encased in her lightly tanned skin. She stood abruptly and pierced him with eyes that reminded him of the intensity he once saw in the gaze of a London detective.
“Is this more of the plot you didn’t hatch?”
“Someone as suspicious as you must have trouble meeting men.”
She cocked her head and her hip at the same time. “Well, I do suspect the worst.”
“Why?”
“Experience; a grim teacher.”
Diego made a few calls and with the vehicle en route to a service garage, he turned to her. “That should ease today’s grimness. We can have lunch while the car is repaired.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
Several generations had passed since a person with so many attractive parts and such a determined nature had crossed his path. Nevertheless, Mercedes eased his pain. Joy still lodged inside him and his spirit hunted for more. So eager was he to know her better that he hungered to the point of aching. Soon Mercedes and he would sit opposite each other and he would be able to drink in her beauty and pepper the conversation with personal questions.
* * *
Mercedes sank into the cushioned chair, tingling at being alone and on an almost date with the famous Diego Castilla.
The waiter shook open her linen napkin and placed it on her lap then performed the same ritual for Diego. The young man’s enthusiastic recitation of the menu made it almost impossible to decide the entrée. Eventually, she opted for the bluefish special. Diego requested a salad and a wine she’d never heard of.
When he caught her assessing him, she blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “For someone living at the beach, you’re really pale.” His dark eyes flicked toward the bay then focused on her. Her heart dove around for a few seconds and felt heavy like it’d been dunked in rich chocolate.
“I don’t spend much time in the sun and have been told not to get tan.”
“You could bronze yourself with something from a tube.”
He laughed. “I would rather talk about you.”
The waiter arrived with a bottle of white wine. Mercedes used the tasting ceremony to decide how much of her personal life to share with her unsettling neighbor and his dark, dark eyes. “I grew up in a small village here in New York. My parents are deceased and you’ve seen my sister.”
“Why become a conservator?”
“Whoa. I’m working my way into that title. Tons of schooling to go. Years.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You have no experience?”
“I’ve done basic cataloguing on two private collections. Under supervision. I studied Advanced Placement Art History. That and my Aunt Louise started my fascination with artifacts. Pots, aryballos, all types of clay vessels appeal to me. They feel like old friends.” Suddenly she felt exposed as if she’d blurted too much information. She tossed out a question hoping he wouldn’t notice she’d embarrassed herself. “According to the newspaper you’re involved returning artifacts to several countries. What made you a collector?”
“Being in the right place at the right time.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“You want to know what makes me tick?”
“Just enough to convince me I judged correctly in accepting your invitation.” His face seemed more angular and his eyes more guarded. Without wanting to, she held her breath. This guy qualified as intense. Not a typical thirty-something date.
“I can’t change history, so I rescued some of it. Now I’m sending what I have home. ”
Lunch arrived. She ignored the aroma of the well-prepared meal. “Guilty conscience?” He smiled revealing straight white teeth. Her thighs quivered.
“You possess a vivid imagination. Do I look guilty to you?”
“Well, you don’t look innocent.”
He filled her wineglass. “I have traveled the world, seen other cultures. Exhibiting my collections provides a way to share. Now I’ve gone a step further.”
“A newspaper article said the upcoming exhibition is your last.”
“Yes.”
She ate a forkful of tender fish. “Wow. Returning everything to its country of origin. You sound too good to be true.” His eyes widened and she felt as if she landed in a deep well. “I should be cautious around you.”
“It is the other way around.”
Mercedes fought off a blush and finished the entrée. “You haven’t touched your lunch.”
“I’m not hungry or thirsty.”
“Such a waste.”
He passed his plate to her. “Please. Eat the salad.”
Most women wouldn’t dive into their date’s food, but she was still hungry. “Okay, but won’t my appetite scare you? Some guys freak.”
“Nothing frightens me.”
“Except food.” She crunched a cucumber slice then devoured the garden tomatoes. When she finished, she licked house dressing from her lips. “You’re too insular. Money does that.”
“Are you always so outspoken?’
She rested her fork. “Is that what I am?”
He nodded. “What scares you?”
“Other than deep water?”
He called for the check. “Yes.”
“I’m afraid of losing my sister.”
As he rested his credit card on the table, she touched his arm. The long sleeved shirt looked like cotton, but felt like silk with a backdrop of corded muscle. “Loss is something to fear, isn’t it?”
“It is agony.”
She used the napkin then gathered her purse to her lap. “You and I aren’t so different.” He flashed a smile that rocketed through her body and tingled her toes.
“I am glad you think so.”
* * *
As Diego guided her to the parking lot Mercedes’ cell phone chirped. She answered and he registered a difference in her voice. The news would not be good. She dropped the phone into a pocket.
“I have to go to the hospital. Annie’s in trouble.”
“I will drive. We will get your car later.”
“I’m sorry to involve you.”
“I want to help.” Mercedes fell silent and he let her ride undisturbed by conversation. Hospitals were not his favorite places. Bad memories of a visit he made in Guatemala while under the thirst still haunted him.
Annie lay on a hospital bed with her eyes closed. She opened them when she felt Mercedes’ gaze.
“Hi, Sis.”
Mercedes shook as if struck by a temblor. Diego wanted to hold her, but such a physical presumption would set off alarms, too familiar a gesture.<
br />
“What happened?” she asked.
With a sweep of her gaze, Annie included Diego in their conversation.
“Guess I got overtired. I passed out.”
Mercedes settled on the edge of the bed. “How’d you get here?”
“Ambulance. After Luz and I had lunch, she went home but came back with yellow roses from her garden. If she hadn’t, I might have been in real trouble. A tech just left. He took more blood.” Annie smiled at Diego. “Hi Diego. Sorry to meet under these circumstances, but I’m real glad Luz called the ambulance.”
“She has saved my life more than once.” He excused himself to contact his companion. Luz told him she regretted that she had not accompanied their neighbor to the hospital and reminded him that she had to send Annie alone because of her duty to him to stay with the house. He accepted her rebuke and apologized.
As he re-entered the hospital room, he heard Mercedes inquire about the baby.
A tear slipped down Annie’s cheek. “I’m not sure. He hasn’t been kicking like he usually does.”
A used bandage lay on Annie’s tray along with other swabs. A drop of fresh blood, red, but drying in the filtered hospital air demanded his attention. He threw the tempting bit into the wastebasket, but placed his finger on the stain.
With every cell screaming, Diego tasted it. His purpose was analysis, not hunger. Yet, he had trouble differentiating the two. Overcome with longing, he stumbled against the wall. Mercedes jumped off the hospital bed.
“Are you ill?”
“I lost my balance.”
“Hospitals get to you, right? Don’t focus on blood or anything like that. Just breathe slowly.”
He squared his shoulders; shoulders that had worn armor and carried plate gold. He continued his charade avoiding the topic of blood. “Is clumsiness something you can forgive?” She bathed him with the soft greenery of her eyes.
“Sure.”
The thirst passed giving him a temporary respite. Soon he would have to feed. Tonight, before dawn.
The doctor arrived. His hushed voice added urgency to the sudden conference. Dr. Mendez suspected a blood disorder, possibly something rare. Would Mercedes provide a sample? Of course, she agreed. During the brief procedure Diego stared at the polished floor.
Born Into Love Page 2