Touch of Heaven (18 page)

“Nothing you'd be willing to answer.”

“You're right. So don't even bother asking.”
The nerve of the man, wanting to know whether she'd spent the night with Bradford! How was that any of his business?

“So, you're taking me to the symphony tomorrow night?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

“Yeah, but technically it's called the orchestra.” Warrick paused. “The Philadelphia Orchestra.”

Raina frowned in confusion. “I don't understand.”

“We're going to Philadelphia.”

“Philadelphia?”

Warrick chuckled dryly. “You make it sound like it's on another planet.”

“Why would we fly all the way there to attend the
orchestra
when we have a perfectly good
symphony
right here in Houston?”

“That's not the reason we're going to Philly,” Warrick said mildly. “I want to give you a tour of Mayne Industries and introduce you to some of the staff members. I think you can make a more informed decision about my business proposal if you have a better idea of what we do and the type of projects we're working on.”

“Why can't you just tell me?” Raina countered, exasperated. “Give me one of your bells-and-whistles presentations. Or better yet, I can read all about what you do on your company's Web site.”

“It's not quite the same as touring the facilities and speaking directly to my engineers.”

“That wasn't necessary for Tyler Ralston or his brother,” Raina pointed out.

“That was different. They were already receptive to the sale.” Warrick paused meaningfully. “You aren't.”

Raina faltered a moment. “Well, be that as it may, I can't just drop everything and go flying halfway across the country with you!”

“I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of having my secretary call yours to check your schedule. As it turns out, you don't have any appointments or meetings scheduled until next week, after the Fourth of July holiday.”

Raina scowled, incensed by his high-handedness. “When did your secretary call mine?” she demanded. Nikki had just left her office, for heaven's sake.

“Just now, while we were on the phone. Mabel just sent me a message confirming that your schedule is clear.” A note of wry amusement entered his voice. “Any other objections I can shoot down for you?”

Raina gnashed her teeth, silently fuming. “How long would we be gone?”

“We'll return on Sunday.”

Four days!
Raina thought, stricken.
Four days alone with Warrick? I can hardly spend
five minutes
around him without wanting to jump his damned bones. How on earth am I going to survive four whole days?

“I—I can't, Warrick,” she stammered.

“You can,” he countered silkily, “and you will. Need I remind you of the terms of our agreement? You're not allowed to argue about where I want to take you. Remember that?”

Raina closed her eyes and shook her head at the ceiling, knowing she had run out of excuses. Warrick was right. Against her better judgment, she'd struck a deal with him and had agreed to his terms. He had already kept his word by personally contacting Tina's brother and offering an internship; he'd even gone above and beyond Raina's expectations by generously volunteering to fly Alphonse
and
his family to Philadelphia. The least Raina could do was keep her end of the bargain.

“Raina,” Warrick prompted softly. “I'm waiting.”

She sighed her acceptance. “All right. Fine. When are we leaving?”

“My pilot's fueling up the jet right now. We should be ready to go by two.”

“Two!” Raina sputtered in protest. “But it's already noon. That doesn't give me much time to finish what I'm doing here, then go home and pack.”

“Then I suggest you hurry,” Warrick murmured, “because I'm picking you up at one-thirty.”

“
One-thirty!
Now you wait just a minute—”

“The longer you sit there arguing with me,” Warrick drawled, “the more time you waste.”

Raina screeched her frustration into the phone, then hung up on his resonant, rumbling laughter.

A moment later she dropped her head onto the desk and groaned, thinking,
What the hell have I gotten myself into?

 

The woman is driving me crazy.

There was no other way to describe what was happening to Warrick, what had been happening to him ever since he laid eyes on Raina for the first time in twelve years. No matter how hard he tried—and he'd tried his damnedest—he just couldn't get her out of his mind.

Case in point: last night at the club, where he and his brothers were attending the glitzy birthday party of a hip-hop mogul they'd known since childhood. There he was in the posh VIP lounge, surrounded by beautiful, scantily-clad women more than willing to warm his bed that night, and all Warrick could think about was the way Raina had looked getting into her car. He'd received lap dances that didn't turn him on the way watching Raina climb behind the wheel of that car—one long, shapely leg at a time—had done. For the rest of the evening he'd been tortured by that tantalizing image, along with images of her in the arms of Bradley, or Brandon, or whatever the hell his name was.

Warrick didn't know what irritated him more: the fact that Raina could kiss him so passionately one minute and rush off to meet another man the very next, or the fact that she seemed genuinely enamored of her new boyfriend. None of that should have bothered Warrick. As Raina had already told him more than once, what she did in her private life was none of his damned business. Yet he couldn't help wondering whether she had spent the night with the
doctor, touching and kissing him, giving herself to him as hungrily as she had kissed Warrick.

By the time he'd woken up that morning—alone, despite the many propositions he'd received the night before—Warrick had devised a plan for getting Raina away from her boyfriend, and alone to himself, for a few days. And the beauty of his plan was that it required very little deception on his part. It made perfect sense for Raina to accompany him to Philadelphia to take a tour of Mayne Industries and to see firsthand what his engineers were working on. Who better to make his case than the hardworking men and women who were the backbone of his company? Not even Raina had been able to refute his logic, though not for lack of trying. She was the feistiest, most stubborn woman Warrick had ever known. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with headstrong females who opposed him at every turn. Without an ounce of conceit, he could honestly say he had yet to meet a woman who hadn't given him
what
he wanted,
when
he wanted it. Even the shrewdest, most formidable female executives he'd encountered in the business world couldn't resist him when he decided to lay on the charm.

But Raina St. James was the exception.

Even now, seated across from him in the spacious interior of his private jet, she defiantly ignored him. She'd spoken very little since they'd boarded the plane more than two hours ago. Amused, Warrick had watched as she glanced around the luxurious cabin, with its custom leather seating and rich mahogany paneling, and tried very hard not to look impressed.

Once the plane had taken off, and they were served cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, Raina had pulled out her laptop and gone to work. Warrick knew she was ticked off at him for the way he'd manipulated her into traveling with him, and she was now punishing him with her silence.

Chuckling to himself, he'd left her alone and retreated to the back of the cabin to make some business calls. At one point he'd heard Raina's cell phone ring. From her end of the conversation, he'd gleaned that Reese St. James was giving her sister an earful about leaving town with Warrick. He'd shamelessly eavesdropped on the brief exchange, which ended with Raina snapping, “I know what I'm doing.”

Is that so?
Warrick had wondered, intrigued.

When he'd returned to his seat, Raina had put away her laptop and was gazing out the window. Although she gave no indication that she was aware of his presence, Warrick knew better.

Deciding he'd endured the silent treatment long enough, he sprawled in the chair opposite hers and deliberately stretched out his long, denim-clad legs, his posture one of supreme relaxation.

Because he knew it bothered Raina, he slowly and deliberately allowed his gaze to travel the length of her. She had twisted her long, dark mane atop her head and secured it with Chinese hair sticks, a simple style that made her look even more exotic than usual. The V of her pink summer sweater drew his eye to the enticing valley between those soft, full breasts he longed to taste and explore. She wore a pair of low-rise jeans—dark this time—that clung to the ripe curves of her body. Toenails painted a soft shade of pink peeked from wedge sandals.

Warrick gazed at her, marveling that no matter how she was dressed, she always managed to look unbelievably sexy. Seeing her in this casual ensemble did more for him than being surrounded by an entourage of gorgeous women wearing scraps of clothing that left little to the imagination.

His gaze traveled back up to Raina's face, admiring the lovely, sensual contours of her profile, lingering on those lush, dewy lips. Man, she was beautiful. How had he never noticed before?

But you must have, at some point,
his conscience prodded.
Somewhere along the way you noticed that she looks amazing in the color green. When did that happen?

Warrick frowned, thinking of how surprising the revelation had been to him that morning. The moment he'd seen the Carolina Herrera dress, he'd instinctively known that it would look stunning on Raina. And that was when he'd realized that on some profound, subconscious level, he must have always known that she would one day blossom into a breathtaking beauty.

As Warrick stared at her, she drew a shaky breath that let him know she wasn't as unaffected by his presence as she wanted him to believe.

Hiding a knowing smile, Warrick crossed his booted feet at the ankles and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

No reaction.

Undeterred, Warrick began whistling the theme song to the show
Good Times,
which, for some inexplicable reason, used to send Raina and his sister into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The corners of Raina's mouth twitched, as if she wanted desperately to smile but wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Chuckling softly and shaking his head, Warrick drawled, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

Finally she looked at him, those dark, bewitching eyes glimmering with suppressed mirth. “What do you mean?”

“What does this scenario remind you of?” At her blank look, Warrick explained, “When I used to drive you home, you wouldn't speak to me, remember? You'd stare out the window and answer me in monosyllables until I finally gave up trying to make conversation with you and turned on the radio.” He smiled, adding wryly, “I couldn't decide whether you were painfully shy, you hated my guts or you thought I had really bad breath.”

Raina laughed softly. “None of the above.”

“Really? Then why was it like pulling teeth just to get you to talk to me?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged, an unnamed emotion flickering across her face and disappearing so swiftly he could have imagined it. “That was years ago. Who knows what was going through my mind at the time?”

But Warrick didn't believe her. Cocking his head to one side, he studied her through narrowed eyes. Assiduously avoiding his speculative gaze, Raina turned back to the window. But she couldn't hide from him entirely, and with a mixture of curiosity and fascination, Warrick realized that she was blushing.

More intrigued than ever, he probed, “You honestly don't remember?”

“No,” she said quickly. A little
too
quickly.

Glancing at him, she added offhandedly, “Besides, what difference does it make? You can't possibly expect me to believe you cared whether or not your little sister's best friend spoke to you.”

Warrick held her gaze. “Maybe I did.”

Raina snorted out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, right!”

“Why would that be so hard to believe?”

She gave him a look. “Warrick, you hardly ever spoke to me. Half
the time you didn't even know I was there. The only time you acknowledged my presence was when you were taking me home, and that was only because you were being polite, and you knew you couldn't very well ignore the only passenger in your car.”

Warrick stared at her. She had spoken matter-of-factly, but there was something in her voice, something indefinable that tugged at him and made him want to apologize, to somehow make amends. Which was ridiculous. He had nothing to apologize for. He'd never been unkind to Raina.