Stranger in my Arms (13 page)

It wasn't until Merrick let out an audible sigh that he realized he'd been holding his breath. He didn't want to fight with Alex. All he wanted to do was love her. “I'll take your bag upstairs, then I'll feed you.”

Alex nodded as she shrugged out of her wool swing coat and placed it on a chair near the door. She was standing in the middle of Merrick's living room because she'd missed him. She hadn't come to West Virginia to fight with him over the area's wildlife population but to spend every night, hour and minute with the man with whom she'd fallen in love, until she had to return to Mexico.

Crossing the living room, she made her way to the half bath off the kitchen to wash her hands. She met Merrick as he entered the kitchen. Sitting on a stool at the cooking island, Alex rested her elbows on the countertop and watched Merrick as he prepared an impromptu lunch.

M
errick had been pushing a shopping cart up and down the wide supermarket aisles, stopping whenever Alex stopped to read the label on every product she placed in the cart.

He groaned for the third time within a matter of minutes. “Do you always spend this much time reading labels?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, not bothering to look at him. “I have to know what I'm eating, Merrick.”

Shaking his head, he let out another groan. “Baby, please.”

Alex glanced up, meeting his tortured gaze. “Why don't you wait for me in the truck?”

Does this mean you do everything your wife wants?
Merrick recalled his query to Michael, and his friend's reply,
I know enough when to advance and when to retreat.

He and Alex weren't husband and wife, but living together for a week, sharing meals and a bed was no different from what Michael had with Jolene. Merrick was aware that a successful relationship was based on compromise, and he also knew he had to find a middle ground with Alex or what they had, what he hoped to have with her would end in a supermarket because it was his practice to get in and out within half an hour. He didn't read labels, interrogate the in-store butcher about cuts of meat, or the produce manager as to the delivery date of fruits and vegetables.

Abandoned at birth, a loner by nature and by choice, Merrick realized having a relationship with a woman, one whom he loved, was a new experience for him. What he had to do was to learn when to advance and when to retreat.

Forcing a smile, he winked at Alex. “That's all right. I'll wait.”

Alex placed the can in the half-filled cart. “I think I have everything.” She'd planned menus that included Caribbean-inspired dishes she'd learned from her mother.

“Are you sure?”

She smiled at Merrick. “Of course I'm sure. Haven't we spent enough time here?”

“Too much,” Merrick mumbled under his breath. “Yes, dear,” he said loud enough for her to hear.

An elderly woman wheeling her cart in their direction patted Merrick's arm. “What a nice young man you are. I've been married for more than forty years, and I've never been able to get my Danny to come grocery shopping with me.” Her brown eyes sparkled like copper pennies as she reached over and patted Alex's hand. “He's a keeper, honey.”

Alex returned her smile. “I know.”

Waiting until the woman was out of earshot, Merrick wound his arm around Alex's waist inside her coat. “Are you going to keep me,
querida?
”

She affected an attractive moue. “I'll think about it.”

Lowering his head, he brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “Perhaps that'll help you make up your mind.”

Staring up at Merrick through her lashes, Alex's gold-brown eyes moved slowly over his face, cataloguing each of his well-defined features. “I think I'm going to need a little more convincing.”

Desire darkened his eyes and tightened the skin over his high cheekbones. It'd been more than a month since he'd been with Alex, and the time away from her just served to increase his need for her. He, Merrick Grayslake, who'd lived his life believing he didn't need anyone, needed Alexandra Cole. Unwittingly, she'd become a part of him, the part that made him whole.

“I believe I have the answer.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “Let's go home.”

 

Alex lay in bed, listening to the sound of sleet pelting the windows. It was as if spring had forgotten the Alleghany Mountain region. Midday temperatures rose to the mid-forties but dropped below freezing with the setting sun. A popping sound of burning wood joined the rhythmic tapping. Merrick had started a fire in the fireplace before going into the bathroom to shower. He'd asked her to join him but she'd turned him down. It was their last night together and as the seconds ticked off she felt as if she were losing tiny pieces of herself each time they made love.

The tears welling up in her eyes overflowed, dotting the pillow under her head. How, she thought, was she going to make it through the next ten weeks without the man she loved? She'd made a mistake, a grievous error in returning to the States—in coming to see Merrick rather than her family—because it made leaving him that much more difficult. The side of the mattress dipped and she felt the warmth of the man who'd managed to occupy her every waking moment. Shifting on her side, she went into his strong, protective embrace.

“This is our last night together,” she whispered tearfully.

“Don't say that, Ali,” Merrick countered softly. “It is not our last night together. Our last night won't come for a very long time.”

She pounded his shoulder with her fist. “You know what I'm talking about.”

He caught her wrist. “No, I don't know what you're talking about. Your school term will be over in a few months, then we can be together—every day, every night.”

“We can't do this again.”

“Do what,
querida?
”

“We can't see each other until I finish my courses.” A fresh wave of tears ensued.

Tightening his hold on her body, Merrick eased Alex to lie atop his body, her legs sandwiched between his, the fingers of his right hand making soothing motions on her back.

He closed his eyes. “Is it your intent to rip my heart out?”

She buried her face between his neck and shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“This is not about you, Ali. You're not in this by yourself. I've shared and said things to you I've never told another person. It was as if I had to wait thirty-five years to feel what should be a natural human emotion—love. The love a baby feels for its mother or father, the love between a man and a woman and the love one feels for those with whom one shares a family bond.

“You've taught me to laugh, that it's all right to tease, be teased, and for that I will love you forever. Being with you has taught me that where I've come from is not as important as where I'm going. And wherever I go I want you with me.”

Alex's right hand trailed down Merrick's shoulder; it moved still lower along his rib cage, her fingers feathering over the curve of his buttocks and muscled thigh. All of her senses were intensified as she inhaled the clean masculine scent of his body, her fingertips grazing the crisp mat of chest hair and the firm flesh covering muscle and sinew. Merrick Grayslake reminded her of the statues of tall, powerful Mexican gods.

Reaching between their bodies, she cradled his flaccid sex; it swelled against her palm, increasing in girth until her fingers did not meet. The heat, hardness and the strong throbbing against her palm ignited a fire that swept through Alex like a lighted fuse. Her body vibrated liquid fire, the tremors between her thighs and groin buffeted by gusts of desire that rendered her close to fainting.

“Love me,” she chanted over and over until it became a litany.

Merrick had told Alexandra that he loved her, but it never seemed to be enough. He had to show her. Reaching for the condom on the table on his side of the bed, he slipped it on. Slowly, methodically, he became a cartographer, charting every inch of her body as he began at the top of her head and moved slowly down as if sampling a sweet, frothy confection. He ignored the soft moans coming from Alex's throat, the rise and fall of her firm round breasts over her narrow rib cage, the contracting muscles in her flat, firm belly and the trembling of her legs as she writhed on the sheets.

Merrick was relentless as he alternated laving the folds at the apex of her thighs with plunging his tongue into the most secret recess of her body. It was as if he wanted to devour her whole, put her inside himself wherein she would be with him even when separated by thousands of miles.

When his own passion rose to fiery proportions, he eased himself inside her, making them one. He felt her heat as it rippled under his hands, inhaled the rising scent of their lovemaking that had become an erotic aphrodisiac. His desire for Alex, his love for her, surpassed every longing, craving and aspiration he'd ever known.

Alex cried for the second time within minutes, this time as waves of ecstasy washed over her. She closed her eyes, gasping in the sweet agony tearing her asunder. It eased slightly before she was hurled higher, climaxing, her orgasms overlapping one another until she lay, struggling to catch her breath.

Merrick felt the strong contractions squeezing his blood-engorged flesh, the sensations sending him over the edge. Cupping her hips, he quickened his thrusts until the dam broke and he spilled his passion into the sheath when it was Alex's body he craved.

The pleasure she'd offered him was pure and explosive, satisfying and sweet. A deep feeling of peace entered him as he savored the remnants of the lingering sensation that rendered him as weak as a newborn.

“Te amo,”
he whispered in her ear.

Alex smiled, enjoying the weight of his body pressing hers down to the firm mattress.
“Yo, también, mi amor.”

They loved each other, but what were they going to do about it? She would complete her studies and return to the States as an architectural historian. She planned to secure a position with a historic preservation, trust or museum, then what?

Would she or Merrick be content to see each other whenever she was free or would she want more? And she refused to think of marriage and children as the more.

He'd admitted he didn't want to marry or father children, but she did—though not now. Not when she wanted a career. Alex willed her mind blank. She couldn't afford to think of a future with Merrick Grayslake when marriage and children weren't her priority.

Without warning, he reversed their positions. They lay together until their breathing deepened and they fell asleep, his body still joined with hers.

 

The sky had brightened with the dawn of a new day, it appearing a hoary gray, when Merrick and Alex resumed their dance of desire, leaving both hungrier for each other than at their first coupling.

Both knew it was a mistake, but love wasn't touted to be rational or judicious. And when Merrick saw Alex off at the airport before she boarded a private jet scheduled to land in Mexico City, he knew when he saw her again the meadow surrounding his house would be filled with wildflowers.

He would honor Alex's request and wait for her return.

There was one thing life had taught him and that was patience. It had served him well when he'd become a marine sniper, and it had saved his life as a covert operative.

Merrick knew there was something special the moment he laid eyes on the petite woman, unaware that she would be the one to change him and his destiny.

A
lex tightened her grip on the cell phone, the pressure leaving an imprint on her palm as she stared out the oval window of the ColeDiz jet as it circled the Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood International Airport in preparation for a landing. It was after two in the morning.

Her father had called her forty-eight hours before to inform her that the family was gathering in West Palm Beach to celebrate Timothy Cole-Thomas's retirement as CEO of ColeDiz International, Ltd. She'd vacillated whether to call Merrick to let him know she would be in the States for the weekend but changed her mind; there wasn't enough time and seeing him would reopen the wound that had healed from their last encounter.

She'd returned to the
universidad
assailed with feelings that left her in an agonizing maelstrom of acute loss. She'd spent a restless two days trying to figure out why she'd fallen in love with a stranger, why Merrick Grayslake and not some of the other men she'd dated. And her love for him wasn't some silly schoolgirl crush or virginal infatuation. She would turn thirty in November, which meant she was a grown woman, an independent woman in control of her life and destiny.

Merrick admitted that he'd told her things about himself he'd never told anyone, yet when she replayed their conversations she realized he actually had told her very little about himself. She knew he'd been orphaned at birth, had been in the Marine Corps and had been recruited by the Central Intelligence Agency. What he hadn't disclosed was how he supported himself, nor had he explained the many scars marring his body.

Alex was mature enough to admit that she'd been drawn to the enigmatic man because he radiated a danger that turned her on. He was akin to a graphic comic superhero prowling the nighttime streets and alleys looking to rescue the weak and right the wrongs perpetrated by those who opposed justice. She'd dubbed him Sir Grayslake, and he'd become her knight in shining armor.

She would spend two nights in Florida before returning to Mexico. Then she would begin counting down the weeks until she was reunited with the man she loved.

 

Alex was surprised to see her brother Gabriel waiting for her once she cleared Customs. What shocked her was his uncanny resemblance to their father. Gabriel had become a professional musician like David Cole, and like the elder Cole, Gabriel had solidified his place in history as a Grammy Award winner. Gabriel had surpassed his father when he earned an Oscar for a movie sound track.

Smiling, she quickened her step. Gabriel met her and swung her up off her feet. “What's with the mustache?” she asked, kissing his cheek. Pulling back, she stared into a pair of large gold-brown eyes, the only feature they'd inherited from Serena Morris-Cole. His long, thin nose, high cheekbones, olive coloring and wolfish dimpled smile were David Cole's. He'd pierced both ears, and tiny gold hoops were suspended from each.

“I thought I'd try it out for a while.”

“Are you trying to look older?” Alex teased as he put her down. Gabriel, the eldest of David and Serena's four children, had recently celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday.

Smiling his wolfish, lopsided grin, Gabriel shook his head, his long, wavy, prematurely gray–streaked hair secured in a ponytail at the base of his neck, swaying with the motion. “No, Alex. The gray hair is enough.”

Most of the men in her family who were direct descendants of her grandfather, Samuel Cole, had inherited his gene for graying prematurely, and her brother was no different.

Looping an arm around his waist, she hugged him. “Why don't you dye it?”

Gabriel ruffled her short hair, then reached for her hand. “I'll admit to being a little arrogant, but vain is not in my vocabulary.”

Alex fell in step with her brother as he led her out of the airport to where he'd parked his car. “You're arrogant
and
vain, Gabriel Morris Cole.”

At six-three, Gabriel slowed his stride to accommodate his sister's shorter legs. “Dad was sorry about the short notice, but it couldn't be helped.”

“I thought Timothy was going to stay at least through the summer.”

“Apparently, he changed his mind. Timothy says that Diego is more than prepared to take over as CEO.”

She gave Gabriel a sidelong glance. “What do you think?”

Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “I wouldn't know one way or the other. I promised myself a long time ago that I'd never get involved in the family business. Aunt Nancy and Josephine's children eat, sleep and breathe the stuff. I'm a musician, so that lets me off the hook.”

“So was Dad, but he was still CEO of ColeDiz for nine years before he met and married Mom.”

“That's true, but he couldn't wait to transfer the responsibility to Timothy.”

“Dad gave up ColeDiz and then set up Serenity Records,” Alex argued softly. “Musician or not, he was still a businessman.”

David Cole had set up his own record company to showcase new and upcoming talent in all music genres. Although his company was small when compared to the larger ones, he'd earned two Grammys for Producer of the Year and his recording artists had earned and garnered more than a dozen nominations.

“Dad knows I don't want to become involved with Serenity. That's why he turned it over to Ana and Jason.”

Gabriel led Alex over to a Porsche GT2. Pressing a button on a remote device, he unlocked the low-slung, silver sports car. Opening the passenger-side door, he waited until Alex was seated before he closed it and came around to sit beside her.

“When did you get this?” she asked. “It smells brand-new.”

Starting the engine, Gabriel shifted into gear and pulled out of the parking space. “I've had it for about a month. It is my birthday present to myself.”

“It's about time you came out of your pocket and got a decent ride,” Alex mumbled. Gabriel had become the brunt of family jokes because when he wasn't touring with his band he drove a clunker that had seen better days. “What else are you holding out on me?”

Gabriel smiled. “I'm buying a house.”

Shifting on her seat, Alex stared at him and asked, “Where?”

“Cotuit. It's on Cape Cod.”

“What or who is in Cape Cod?”

Gabriel had to remember that he hadn't seen his sister since the beginning of the year. “I've been accepted as an artist-in-residence at a high school in a Boston suburb.”

“Wouldn't it be better if you rented a place?”

“No, because I've found the perfect little house.”

“How little, Gabe?”

“It's a restored two-story farmhouse set on six acres of beautifully landscaped waterfront property. I plan to renovate it by raising the ceilings in the second-floor bedrooms and expand both floors by at least a thousand square feet on either side.”

“It sounds as if your little house is going to become a big house.”

“I'm used to having a lot of space.”

Alex nodded. They'd grown up in a house with nearly ten thousand square feet of living space, and they each had their own bedroom suites.

“How did Mom and Dad react when you told them you were moving to Massachusetts?”

Gabriel's teeth showed whitely under his trim mustache. “They had the nerve to open a bottle of champagne and toast each other.”

“That's cold, Gabe.”

“You think? After Dad downed two glasses he said, ‘It's about time. The next piece of good news should be that you're getting married.'”

Alex shook her head. “What's up with our folks trying to marry us off?”

Gabriel maneuvered off a four-lane road and onto the interstate in the direction of Boca Raton. “They want grandchildren, Alex.”

“Well, they're not going to get one out of me for a long time,” she said.

“Same here,” he concurred.

Eyelids drooping, Alex relaxed against the back of her seat. “Wake me when we get home.” Although she'd lived in Virginia for two years, she still thought of Boca Raton as home.

 

Alex woke up late the next morning to knocking on her bedroom door. Bright Florida sunshine poured through the many windows. “Come in,” she called out.

The door opened and Ana walked in wearing a sundress over her bathing suit. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead! We're leaving for West Palm in half an hour.”

Pulling a sheet over her head, Alex moaned, “Please tone it down, Ana.”

“What time did you get in?”

She lowered the sheet and pushed herself into a sitting position as Ana flopped down on the side of the bed. “The plane landed around two-thirty, and we didn't get here until four.” Combing her fingers through her short hair, she smiled at her younger sister. “Who's here?”

“Everyone came except Chris. Emily said he's involved in a federal racketeering case that just went to the jury.” Their first cousin's husband, Christopher Delgado, a former governor of New Mexico, was now a judge.

Pushing back the sheet, Alex swung her legs over the side of the bed, undoing the tiny pearl buttons on the front of her cotton nightgown as she headed for an adjoining bathroom.

“Did Mom make coffee?” she asked.

“I think Dad made it this morning, because it was strong enough to grow hair on my chest.”

“I need it strong. Can you please bring me a cup?”

Ana moved off the bed to do her bidding while Alex stepped out of her nightgown, leaving it on a low bench in the corner of the expansive bathroom. She was tired—no, the fact was she was exhausted. The late flight and not enough sleep had her out of sorts. Opening the door to the shower stall, she stepped in, turned on the faucets and adjusted the water temperature. The cool water was the antidote. It revived her and by the time Ana returned with a steaming mug of coffee Alex was wide awake.

 

Five generations of Coles had gathered on the lawn at the family West Palm Beach compound to salute Timothy Cole-Thomas's undaunted dedication to running a business empire that included coffee plantations in Mexico, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, and several banana plantations in Belize. At sixty, Timothy had successfully shepherded ColeDiz International, Ltd., through recessions and economic instability to realize a profit every year in his thirty-year term.

Alex sat next to Dana Nichols-Cole, whose three-month-old daughter had fallen asleep in her arms. “May I hold her?” Dana put the infant in Alex's outstretched arms.

Dana and Tyler were seeking to legalize the adoption of the baby they'd named Astra. Tyler Cole had delivered the infant, but couldn't save her fifteen-year-old mother who'd been abandoned by her own mother at the age of seven. Unfortunately, the pregnant teenager had spent most of her short-lived life in foster and group homes.

Gabriel leaned over Alex's shoulder. “Hey, Mama,” he teased, winking and flashing his trademark dimpled smile.

“I'm going to hurt you, Gabriel Cole.”

He leaned closer. “I'll let you hurt me after you get pregnant.”

Dana stared at her husband's cousin. “Are you pregnant?”

Alex swatted at her brother. “Get the hell outta here, Gabriel!” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“Who's pregnant now?” Tyler Cole asked as he sat down beside his wife. Tyler had become the family resident ob-gyn.

Alex rolled her eyes at Tyler. “Don't look at me.”

Gabriel rested an arm on Tyler's broad shoulder. The first cousins looked enough alike to pass for brothers. “Unlike your sisters, mine have struck out in the romance department because they can't seem to tell the difference between a winner and a loser.”

Alex opened her mouth to announce that she'd fallen in love with a winner but caught herself in time. What she had with Merrick would remain her secret—for now.

“Speak for yourself, Gabriel. Why is it I don't see a woman hanging on your arm?”

“That's because I'm not one to advertise my business.”

Alex's retort was thwarted when Diego stood and tapped the handle of a knife against a water goblet. All gazes were focused on the tall, powerfully built man in a white
guayabera
and jeans. “May I please have everyone's attention?”

“I want to e-e-e-at n-o-o-w!” wailed a young child before being hushed by his mother.

Diego lowered his chin and bit back a smile. “I believe that's my cue to make this quick.” His head came up, black eyes smoldering with a lazy seductiveness that fired the imaginations of the few women who'd come to know him intimately.

“As most of you know, my father is a man of few words, preferring instead to let his actions speak for him. If it worked for him over the past three decades, then why should I try to fix what isn't broken?” He raised his goblet in a mock salute. “To my uncles, Martin and David, and my father, Timothy Cole-Thomas, I salute you and pray for your blessings as the next CEO of ColeDiz International, Ltd.” He turned and extended the glass to his fretful nephew. “Now we can eat.”