Authors: Rochelle Alers
July 18
Puerto Limón, Costa Rica
D
avid sat in Raul Vega’s study, staring out the window. The strain of waiting had begun to fray the nerves of both men.
His call to the American embassy in San José was acknowledged, but the ambassador sent his regrets, and there was no way he could tell the ambassador that he was being held hostage with Vega listening on an extension.
Raul tapped a pencil against his forefinger, his dark gaze fixed on David Cole’s cheek. His face had healed, the scar only noticeable at close range, and instead of ruining the young peacock’s face the scar enhanced it. It made him look dangerously attractive.
Raul knew that the earring he wore in his left lobe
was his daughter’s. What he had to uncover was their relationship. Whenever he observed them together there was an obvious attraction, but it was coupled with a formality that was unnatural. They would bear watching closely.
“So, your answer is still no.”
David affected an expression of indifference. “And will remain no.”
“You will lose millions.”
“So be it.”
Raul’s hand came down hard on the top of his desk. “Fool! You risk losing millions—”
“It’s
my
millions,” David interrupted.
Leaning back against the leather chair, Raul flashed a sinister smile. “I think I can get you to change your mind about selling the plantation.”
David ran a hand through his longer wavy hair. “I doubt that.”
Lacing his fingers together, the older man met David’s steady gaze. “What if I shorten the time for your sentence to thirty days instead of sixty?”
He was past threats and intimidation, knowing that Vega needed him—alive. “You’re a day late, because yesterday was thirty days.”
“And you have only twenty-nine left before I begin taking you apart.”
David stood up. “Save the threats,” he sneered. Turning his back, he walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Instead of retreating to the sanctuary of his bedroom, he decided to brave the oppressive heat. Opening the door, he stepped out into the sultry afternoon. The beauty of the land surrounding
La Montaña
was breathtaking, and he didn’t think he would ever get used to the sundrenched
world where every living organism coexisted in perfect harmony.
The cloying fragrance of tropical flowers growing in wild abandon lingered in his nostrils. Putting one foot firmly in front of the other, he stared down at the flagstone path leading to the enormous greenhouse and connecting aviary. He walked past the structures toward the ocean, ignoring the heat of the sun beating down on his bare head and arms.
He had come to recognize and distinguish a macaw, quetzal, and a three-wattled bellbird after spending hundreds of hours in the aviary. A few of the birds flew over to him whenever he walked in, looking for bits of ripe fruit he usually carried with him.
Walking past an overgrowth of tangled trees, he stepped out into a clearing, stopping short when he saw a man pointing a rifle at him.
“You must not go any farther, Señor Cole.”
Nodding, he turned and retraced his steps. It was the third time someone had stopped him from leaving the boundaries of Raul Vega’s property. His walks had taken him east, west, and north. The only route he hadn’t tried was south. That he would leave for another time.
He returned to the house at the same time Rodrigo maneuvered the Mercedes-Benz up to the garages. The driver alighted and opened the rear door to the spacious sedan. A man’s foot touched the concrete, followed by the glimpse of pale, close-cut, silver hair. Then the tall, slim figure emerged. Nothing in David’s expression revealed the relief washing over him. He’d come. His brother had come for him.
Joshua’s pale eyes, hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses, missed nothing. He saw David glance at him
before he disappeared into the large house situated on a rise above a deep valley. There was a time in his past when David had come to take him home as he lay close to death in a tiny Mexican town. Now he had come for his brother before a madman could follow through on his promises of mutilation and death.
His sharp gaze swept around the land surrounding
La Montaña
. Its location atop the mountain made it almost impenetrable. A sardonic smile touched his mouth.
Almost, but not impossible
, he mused, following the driver’s lead into the house.
David lay across his bed, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. When he first spied Joshua he thought he had imagined him. He hadn’t had any contact with his family, and suspected that their political connections had not met with success; he was fully aware that his father was not above going outside the law to secure his release. And Samuel Cole had sent the best: retired U.S. Colonel Joshua Kirkland, former Associate Coordinating Chief of the Defense Intelligence Agency.
Seeing his half brother summoned a repressed distress that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge: his father’s failing health, his mother’s anxiety, and his brothers’ and sisters’ fear that they would lose a sibling. He had come to depend on Serena with a ferocious craving that threatened to break him emotionally. His emotions vacillated between rage and fear; a rage so violent that he considered murdering her father, and a fear that he would lose her—forever.
He shared her bed—every night, returning to his own bed with the rising of the morning sun. Their lovemaking
was strong, passionate, and satisfying, but always leaving him wanting more.
He counted off the days, one merging into the other, while he spent the time exploring the property surrounding
La Montaña
, visiting the exotic birds in the aviary, and writing music. It was only at night that he truly came alive, when he lost himself in the scented embrace of the woman he loved more than his own life.
Opening his eyes, he stared up at the whitewashed ceiling. Joshua had come to take him home. He had to let his brother know that he would not leave Costa Rica alone. Serena would go back to Florida with him.
Serena replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle. Her mother’s call had elicited an emotion of uncontrollable euphoria. Gabriel had granted his mother an audience.
Juanita laughed and cried at the same time, reporting that her son looked wonderful, he was treated well, he was extremely optimistic, and that he was segregated from the general prison population. She ended the conversation saying that she would remain in Florida until Gabriel’s release.
Rushing out of her bedroom, she raced down the back staircase, taking the shorter route to her father’s study. The door was ajar, and he stood in the middle of the room, arms folded over his chest. The smile softening his features was radiant. He lowered his arms, extending them, and he wasn’t disappointed when she walked into his embrace.
“Oh, Poppa,” Serena sighed, curving her arms around her father’s waist.
Raul tightened his hold on her tiny body. The strain of sidestepping and tiptoeing around each other for the
past month vanished like rain on a heated surface once the sun reemerged.
“It’s all right,
Chica
,” he crooned over and over.
Gabriel is safe. Safe from himself and those who seek to take his life
. Luz Maria’s prediction calmed and soothed her as she stood in the protective arms of her father.
Raul Vega loved her. How could she have thought otherwise? And she loved him as much as she could’ve loved her biological father.
Pulling back, she smiled up at him. A flicker of amusement lit up his dark eyes when he returned her smile. “I love you, Poppa.”
Cradling her face between his hands, he kissed both her cheeks. “Not as much as I love you, Daughter.” One hand cupped the back of her head. “I need to ask a favor of you.”
Vertical lines appeared between her eyes. “What?”
“Will you act as hostess for me tonight? An American businessman will be staying here for several days, and I’d like to offer him the hospitality we Ticos are known for.”
“But—but you don’t like foreign businessmen, Poppa.”
“It will be different this time.”
“Different, how?”
“His factory will remain in the States. We will export what he needs.”
Serena nodded. She would agree to anything after the call from her mother. “Yes, Poppa. I will act as your hostess. How many are we serving?”
“There will be just the four of us tonight. And that includes David Cole.”
She sighed in relief. Four was a small number
compared to the twenty or more she’d seen her mother host in the past. Before she left to live in the United States she’d watched her mother smile, laugh, and chat with a living room filled with people. Juanita had a special gift that made everyone who met her like her on sight. Not only was she stunningly attractive, but she claimed a gentleness that put anyone in her presence immediately at ease.
“When will he arrive?”
“He’s already here. Right now he’s taking
siesta
.”
“Where is he from?”
“New Mexico.”
She estimated the time difference between America’s southwest and Costa Rica, her mind racing quickly. “I’ll tell Luz Maria that we’ll eat at six instead of eight. That will allow Mr.—”
“Señor Kirkland.”
“Mr. Kirkland,” Serena continued smoothly, “to recover from his jet lag more quickly than if we had a late dinner.”
“I’ll leave everything up to you,
Chica
.”
She kissed him again, then turned and walked out of his study, encountering Rodrigo. He inclined his head, then knocked on his employer’s door before walking in and closing the door behind them.
David. She wanted to share her good news with him, but they had promised each other that their only direct contact would be when they shared dinner or her bed. She would have to wait for him to come to her tonight before she told him about Gabriel.
Serena checked the dining room table for the second time, making certain all of the silver was free of tarnish, and the crystal goblets free of water spots. She adjusted
the table’s centerpiece—a magnificent lead crystal vase filled with a profusion of orchids, ranging in colors from the deepest purple to the palest white. The snowy white tablecloth and matching napkins complemented the translucent china ringed in silver.
“The table looks beautiful, and so do you,” crooned the last voice she’d heard before she fell asleep at night.
Turning, she smiled up at David. Instead of his usual slacks and shirt, he’d opted to wear an exquisitely tailored, oatmeal-beige suit, a snow white shirt, chocolate brown silk tie, and a pair of imported, brown, slip-on loafers. His graying hair had grown out where he’d brushed it off his high forehead and over his ears. But he hadn’t removed the tiny, gold hoop in his left ear.
“Lose the earring,” she whispered.
His obsidian gaze raced quickly over her lightly made up face. “No. It stays.”
He admired her hair, which was brushed off her face and secured in an elaborate twist on the nape of her neck. A seductive, woodsy fragrance clung to her body under a sleeveless, silk dress in a vibrant orange. The simple, elegant garment cut on a bias skimmed like water over her firm breasts, flat belly, and hips. The hem ended inches about a pair of three-inch, black satin sling-back heels. A generous slit up the front of the dress allowed for a lush view of her strong, bare legs from ankle to knee. Her only jewelry was her single strand of pearls and a pair of matching stud earrings.
The image of her bare legs wrapped around his waist during their passionate bouts of lovemaking caused his stomach muscles to contract. Everything about her, from the orange color on her temptingly curved lips to the
matching color on her toes, drew him into a surging vortex of desire that made him want to spend every hour of the day in her arms.
“It doesn’t go with the suit.”
“It still stays. Speaking of earrings, I owe you a pair.”
She flashed him a saucy look. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Rodrigo walked into the dining room, breaking the sensual spell surrounding the secret lovers.
“Señor Cole, may I prepare a drink for you?”
The frown that had settled between David’s eyes vanished quickly. “
Sí
. I’d like a Scotch and soda with ice.” Of all of Samuel Cole’s children he had been the only one who shared his father’s penchant for Scotch.
Rodrigo made his way over to a bar and placed a linen napkin over the sleeve of his dark bolero jacket. “Señorita Morris. May I serve you?” he asked, filling a glass with ice from a small refrigerator concealed beneath the massive bar. Tonight his role had changed from driver to bartender.
“I’ll have a glass of sherry, please.”
Rodrigo quickly and expertly prepared their drinks, and as they stood sipping them Raul Vega and his house-guest walked into the dining room.
She felt a shiver of uneasiness the instant her gaze met and fused with that of the man with the silver hair and deeply tanned face. She missed the expert cut of his dark suit, pristine white shirt, navy blue tie, and black shoes as she felt his pale green, hypnotic gaze trap her within a maelstrom of fear and danger.
Unconsciously, she moved backward, bumping into David. His free hand went to the small of her back until she regained her balance.
David successfully concealed a smile. Serena’s reaction to Joshua Kirkland was similar to that of most who met him for the first time. His cold eyes made people feel as if they’d glimpsed their own death. And his brother was deadly when crossed.
Raul placed a hand on Joshua’s shoulder, smiling. “Señor Kirkland, I would like to introduce you to my daughter and our hostess for this evening, Señorita Serena Morris.
Chica
, Señor Joshua Kirkland.”
Serena extended her right hand, forcing a smile she did not quite feel. “Señor Kirkland.”
Joshua took her hand and inclined his head. “My pleasure, Señorita Morris.”
An eyebrow shifted at the same time she withdrew her hand from his warm grip. His Spanish was flawless, and she knew that, like David, he’d learned the language as a child.