Stranger in my Arms (14 page)

All of the young children stood up and cheered while their parents and grandparents shook their heads. Collectively, the descendants of Samuel and Marguerite-Josefina Cole were boisterous, and at times bodacious, but they were also protective of and fiercely loyal to anyone who claimed Cole blood. And there was an unspoken rule that if you threaten one, the threat extends to all.

Gabriel patted Alex's back. “Don't get up. I'll bring you something to eat.”

She rolled her eyes at him, still smarting about his remark that she'd picked up losers. “Don't try to placate me, big brother.”

A smile slipped through her impassive expression as her brother walked toward the table where servers were filling plates with mounds of hot and cold dishes. It was on a rare occasion that one saw an adult Cole woman standing in line waiting to be served. The tradition, which had begun when Martin Cole became CEO, was that the women rule and their men serve. The result was all females were protected, pampered and adored.

Dana held out her arms for her daughter. “Let me take her into the house and put her to bed.”

At the exact moment she relinquished the sleeping infant, a chorus of screams sliced through the undercurrent of voices raised in conversation and laughter. Four preteen boys and one girl had jumped into the Olympic-size pool—fully dressed. It was another tradition that had survived several generations.

Alex laughed when she heard the colorful language of their parents chastising them for their unruly behavior. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd jumped into her grandparents' pool, or into her own, much to the dismay of her parents, who couldn't understand why their children would want to sit around in wet street clothes when they could've worn a swimsuit. What the adults failed to understand was that it was an open act of rebellion in order to flaunt their independent spirit.

Her smile faded when she recalled a few occurrences when as an adolescent she'd challenged her mother's authority. Alex had learned to get over on David Cole, but Serena was another matter. It'd taken only two confrontations with her mother to come to the conclusion that she'd better get her act together or spend her teenage years in lockdown.

A faraway expression filled her eyes when she tried imagining what kind of mother she would become if or when she opted for motherhood. Would she be indulgent and tolerant like her grandmother Marguerite-Josefina, or straightforward and practical like her own mother?

There was never a question of not understanding what Serena said or meant. However, Alex had lost count of the number of times she'd gone to her father to enlist his support to soften her mother's stance. That all changed when David Cole called a rare family meeting, explaining that he would not tolerate his children's attempt to undermine their mother's authority, and that put an end to Alex's clandestine meetings with her father.

Prerecorded music blared from speakers as the noise level escalated. Alex lifted her eyebrows when she saw an attractive young woman with stylishly-cut, shoulder-length hair talking to Diego. Even from this distance, he appeared to be equally enthralled as he moved closer to listen to what she was saying.

“Now, that looks serious,” whispered a familiar voice.

Alex turned to find Ana taking a chair next to her. “Who is she?”

“She's a weather girl with one of the television networks. If she believes she's going to become Mrs. Diego Cole-Thomas, then she's in for a world of hurt.”

Alex nodded. “He told me that he's not ready to settle down.”

Ana emitted a delicate snort. “Now, if the woman was named ColeDiz, then she'd at least have a fighting chance.”

The sisters discussed their marriage-shy cousin until their brothers returned carrying plates of food. Jason served his twin while Gabriel placed Alex's on the table in front of her.

Ana gave Jason a forlorn look. “Can you please bring me something to drink?”

“Me, too,” Alex said, chiming in.

“Damn, Ana,” Jason snarled. “You should've told me when I was up there.”

Gabriel wrapped an arm around Jason's neck, pulling him close. “Don't let them stress you out, little brother. I'll get the drinks while you fix me a plate.”

Alex squinted at her younger sister as Ana dipped a piece of calamari into a small cup of piquant sauce. “Sometimes you ride Jason a little too hard.”

The seafood dangled from the tines of Ana's fork as she hesitated putting it into her mouth. “Jason's a good sport.”

“He's a good sport because you're his twin sister. But you overdo it.”

Ana affected a pout. “You have Gabriel and I have Jason.”

“But I don't take advantage of him, Ana.”

Taking a bite of the calamari, Ana chewed it thoughtfully. “All right, Alex. I'll ease up on him.”

As fraternal twins, she and Jason were inseparable, existing in a private world where one was able to finish the other's sentences. Older by eight minutes, Jason had always protected his twin although her stronger personality overshadowed his more laid-back, quiet one.

 

Alex spent the rest of the afternoon eating, drinking, dancing, swimming and interacting with her many relatives. The sun had set, the caterers were gone and those who'd planned to spend the remainder of the weekend in West Palm Beach claimed bedrooms in the twenty-four-room mansion.

Michael and a very pregnant Jolene decided to stay with his parents at their Palm Beach condominium. With his wife in her eighth month of confinement, Michael had opted to drive to Florida in lieu of flying.

 

Alex returned to Boca Raton with her parents while her siblings stayed behind to hang out with their many cousins. There was talk of them going to a popular West Palm Beach dance club.

She was scheduled to fly back to Mexico Sunday morning along with Emily Kirkland, her three children and her cousin's sister and brother-in-law, Sara and Salem Lassiter, and their children. The Kirklands and Lassisters would deplane in Las Cruces, New Mexico, before the jet continued on to Mexico City.

She checked her cell phone and realized she'd missed Merrick's call. Pressing a button, Alex listened for a break in the connection. She smiled when hearing his signature “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, yourself,” she whispered. “What are you doing up so late?” The glowing numbers on the clock on the bedside table read 1:10 a.m.

“I couldn't sleep.”

Vertical lines appeared between Alex's eyes. “I've never known you to have insomnia.”

A deep sensual chuckle came through the earpiece. “That's because whenever we're together I don't have a sleep problem. You're like morphine.”

“What do you know about morphine?” she teased.

There was a moment of silence, and Merrick said, “Forget I mentioned it. Even though it's a little after midnight where you are I'll let you go. I'd planned to call earlier, but thought perhaps you'd gone out with your friends.”

“I'm not in Mexico City, Merrick.”

“Where are you?”

“I'm in Florida. I came early this morning and I'm leaving later on today. The family got together to celebrate my cousin Diego taking over as CEO of ColeDiz. I wanted to call you and ask if you wanted to meet me here, but there wasn't enough time.”

There came another pause from Merrick. “Have you told anyone—your family, about us?”

“No. And I don't like keeping secrets from them.”

“You want them to know about us?”

“Yes, I do, Merrick.”

“I'd like you to wait before you tell them.”

A cold chill snaked its way down her spine, and she went completely still. There was something in his voice that set off warning bells in her head. “Why do you want me to wait?”

“I can't tell you now.”

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, Ali. It's something I'd rather not discuss on the telephone. I'll tell you everything when we see each other again.”

“That's not going to be until the beginning of June,” she said in protest.

“That's when I'll tell you.”

She squeezed the tiny instrument in frustration. “You offer me some cryptic mumbo jumbo and expect me to wait two months for an explanation.”

“What I'd like for you to do is trust me, Ali.”

“You want me to trust you when you're hiding things from me. I really don't know who you are, what you do, how—”

“Stop it, Alexandra!” Merrick hadn't shouted the command, but the stinging effect was the same. “I'm going to end this call,” he said in a dangerously quiet tone. “We won't discuss this again until I see you. Have a safe flight back, and I'll call you tomorrow night.”

“Goodbye, Merrick.”

“No, Ali. Good night.”

The willfulness she'd struggled all of her adult life to control surfaced, making her unwilling to compromise. “Goodbye, Merrick,” she repeated, then abruptly disconnected the call.

She threw the phone and it landed on an armchair. Alex flopped down to the bed and closed her eyes. She asked herself for the first time since coming face-to-face with Merrick Grayslake, was she in over her head?

M
oira knocked on the open door to Alex's room and walked in. Clothes were stacked in neat piles atop the double dresser and bedside table. Alexandra Morris was preparing to leave Mexico City. Classes had ended the day before and final marks were posted in the lobby of the converted convent earlier that morning.

Alex turned and smiled at her friend. “Well, this is it. We're done.”

Moira flopped down on a straight-back armchair. “
You
are done.”

Alex halted folding a pair of jeans. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm staying on.”

She stared at Moira, baffled. The week before, Moira had suddenly burst into tears, and when Alex questioned her, she said she'd suddenly had an attack of homesickness.

Closing the distance between them, Alex sat on the arm of the chair and looped an arm around Moira's neck. “What's up, girlfriend?”

Moira's dark blue eyes filled with tears but didn't fall. “I'm pregnant.”

Alex's mouth formed a perfect O before she pursed her lips. She didn't know whether to be happy or sad for her friend, but decided on the former. “Congratulations.”

Eyelids fluttering, Moira rested her forehead on Alex's arm and cried happy tears. “Thank you.”

“When's the big day?”

“Early December.”

Sitting up straighter, Alex swept her gaze over Moira's slender body. “You're already three months pregnant?”

Moira nodded. “I'd suspected for some time that I was carrying Hernando's baby, but you could say I was in denial.”

“Hernando,” Alex repeated, her voice rising slightly. “Are you talking about our Professor Hernando Rivera?”

Moira nodded as she blushed to the roots of her pale hair. “Yes.”

Alex wrinkled her delicate nose. “I don't believe it. Here I thought you were fooling around with Umberto but instead it was our brilliant, esteemed
Professor
Rivera.”

Moira bit down on her lower lip. “I hadn't planned on having an affair with him—”

“Don't you dare apologize to me,” Alex said, interrupting her. “You're a grown woman, Moira.”

Her head came up, her expression soft and angelic. “He's wonderful, Alex, as a lover, teacher and husband.”

“You're married?”

“Yes,” Moira said, smiling.

“When did you get married?”

“Yesterday. Because I'm not Catholic, we decided on a civil wedding.”

“Do you love him, Moira?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then, that's all that matters.”

A warm glow flowed through Moira and she felt freer than she had in hours. She'd called her father to tell him that she wasn't coming home because she'd fallen in love and married a Mexican man. Her father hadn't waited for her to explain that the man was one of the world's most respected art historians when he'd hung up on her.

“I wanted to wait until after the baby is born to marry Hernando, but he refused because of his position at the
universidad
.”

“He's right, Moira, even though it's not frowned upon for a woman to have a child without the benefit of marriage nowadays.”

Moira hugged Alex. “I knew you would be happy for me.”

Alex returned the hug. “Why wouldn't I be happy for you? I wish you all the happiness you deserve—and more.”

“I hope we'll stay in touch with each other, Alex.”

“Of course we will.”

“Will you come by tomorrow night and have dinner with us? I told Hernando that I didn't want you to leave Mexico without saying goodbye.”

“Of course I'll come.” That meant she would have to delay going back to Virginia.

Moira popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to Alex's cheek. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Alex was still sitting on the arm of the chair when Moira left, closing the door quietly behind her. Alex's friend had accused Hernando Rivera of having the hots for her when it was Moira Morgan he was actually in love with.

Rising from the chair, she had resumed the boring task of packing, when her cell phone rang. Reaching for the instrument, she flipped open the cover without looking at the display.

“Do you have a flight schedule for me, Joelyn?”

“Ali?”

“Merrick?”

“I can assure you that I'm not Joelyn.”

“And I wouldn't want you to be her.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Alex stared at the worn terra-cotta floor. After their rather heated exchange what now seemed aeons ago, she and Merrick had resumed their nightly telephone calls.

“Did you pass everything?” he asked.

Her smile was dazzling. “I managed to get top honors.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“I'd like to give you a gift.”

“For what, Merrick?”

“It's not every day that someone earns a graduate degree.”

“Thousands get graduate degrees every year.”

“How many people get to become architectural historians?”

“Well, you're right,” she conceded.

“I know I'm right. And because I'm bigger and stronger than you it would be in your best interest to accept what I'm offering.”

“What's with the intimidation?” she teased.

“What's with the interrogation?” he countered.

“Okay, Merrick. What is it?”

“I've arranged for a private jet to fly you to Rome Friday morning. Try to get some sleep because I have something special planned for the evening. Later on today a courier will deliver a packet containing your e-ticket and flight information. I've also arranged for ground transportation to get you and your luggage to the airport. When you arrive I'll be waiting for you once you clear Customs.” There was a pause before he said, “Hold on, Ali.
Porterò l'un col rubino.
”

“Merrick?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Where are you?”

“I'm in Rome. How's your Italian?”

She couldn't believe he was calling her from Italy. “It's definitely not as good as yours.”

“I'm going to have to hang up because the store clerk is glaring at me. I'll see you Friday night.”

Before Alex could accept, reject or protest, he ended the call. Falling back on the bed, she kicked her legs the way she'd done as a child.

She never would've predicted that her life would change so dramatically since New Year's Eve. Her life had changed, she had changed and when she saw Merrick Grayslake again she would thank him for helping her to become a woman in the truest sense of the word.

 

Within minutes of exiting Customs, Alex spied a man holding a placard with the name Cole printed in large black letters. She approached him. “I'm Alexandra Cole.”

“Dare il benvenuto a Roma, signorina. Prenderò il suo bagaglio.”

He spoke Italian too quickly for her to understand more than
welcome
and
baggage.
She smiled.
“Grazie.”

The man picked up her bags and motioned for her to follow him. It was 9:00 p.m. in Rome and the airport was teeming with departing and arriving travelers.

Alex had taken Merrick's advice and slept during the transatlantic flight. An hour before they were scheduled to touch down at the Leonardo da Vinci Airport, she'd showered in one of the onboard bathrooms and changed into the ubiquitous little black dress and strappy sandals. The instructions in the packet indicated a 10:00 p.m. dinner reservation.

She saw Merrick leaning against a column. He straightened when their gazes met. They hadn't seen each other in three months, and he'd changed. His hair was longer and the sun had darkened his face to a deep copper-brown. If it hadn't been for his distinctive eye color Alex wouldn't have recognized him.

 

Merrick did not move forward because he couldn't at that moment. Rooted to the spot, he watched the muscles in Alex's bare shapely legs and thighs flex and relax as she made her way toward him. The skimpy black dress with a scooped neckline and capped sleeves outlined the delicious curves of her sexy, petite body. Her hair that looked as if she'd styled it with her fingers framed her round face in sensual disarray.

It was when he saw her face that a quiet storm stirred in his groin. Smoky eye shadow, a coat of mascara on feathery black lashes and the vermilion color on her lush, full lips made him want to strip her naked and make love to her. But he hadn't invited her to Italy to make love to her, but to show her much he was in love with her.

Go to her,
a silent voice urged Merrick. He took one step, then another, closing the distance. He let out his breath when he felt the crush of her breasts against his chest.

Cradling her face between his hands, he lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers.
“Dare il benvenuto a Roma.”

“Grazie, mio amore.”

Merrick released her when he hadn't wanted to. “Are you hungry?”

Alex stared at the man whom she loved beyond reason. “Yes.” She hadn't eaten anything since early that morning. She was hungry, but not for food. She'd missed Merrick, missed everything about him.

Putting his arm around her tiny waist, he pressed a kiss to her hair. “Let's get out of here. I made a reservation for dinner at a restaurant not far from our hotel.”

 

The drive from the airport took longer than expected, and when Merrick and Alex arrived at the hotel on the Via Veneto there was only enough time to store her luggage in the room before they had to leave.

Tucked away in an alley off a side street, the restaurant resembled a grotto with brick-and-mortar walls, a vaulted ceiling and water flowing from a fountain into a pool.

The flickering light from the candle on the table shimmered off Alex's flawless brown face. Merrick stared at her. Three months. It'd been that long since he'd last seen Alex and it appeared as if she'd changed. The change wasn't her looks, but her demeanor. She'd matured during their separation; a woman had replaced the open, spontaneous girl.

Alex took a sip of wine, then touched the corners of her mouth with a napkin. The restaurant's ambience, her dining partner and the food were incredible. She'd ordered chicken in a light wine and butter sauce while Merrick had chosen linguine with a broiled seafood medley.

“What made you choose Italy over some other country, Merrick?” Her query shattered the comfortable silence.

He put down his wineglass. “I remember you saying you enjoyed visiting here, and when you finished your studies you'd planned to come back not as a student but as a tourist.”

Her eyebrows flickered as she met his steady gaze. “Do you remember everything I say?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But only if it's worth remembering.”

Alex studied the man sharing the small round table with her. He'd become a chameleon. Dressed in a sand-colored linen suit with a sky-blue shirt and navy blue tie, he appeared sophisticated and urbane. And with his hair texture, eye color and sharply defined features he could be a citizen from any country in the world.

“How long can you hang out here with me?” Merrick asked.

She stared at the food on her plate. “No more than two weeks.” She looked up, meeting his gaze. “I have an interview with the National Trust for Historic Preservation at the end of the month.”

“Where's the interview?”

“Boston.”

Merrick nodded. “I'll have you back in plenty of time.” Shifting his chair, he moved closer to Alex. “You've accused me of hiding things from you, and I promised I would tell you what you need to know about me when we saw each other again.”

Alex took another sip of wine, staring at Merrick over the rim of her glass. “We don't have to talk about it now.”

Reaching for her hand, he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Yes, Ali. We can't move forward unless we clear the air about things that bother you.”

Alex didn't want to talk. All she wanted was to enjoy the moment because for the first time in her life she'd gotten everything she'd ever wanted: she'd completed her graduate program and looked forward to securing a position as an architectural historian and she planned to spend the next two weeks touring Italy with the man she loved.

“If whatever you plan to tell me is going to upset me, then I don't want to hear it, Merrick. Not tonight.”

“When do you want me to tell you?”