Touch of Heaven (23 page)

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Authors: Maureen Smith

BOOK: Touch of Heaven
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Warrick couldn't take his eyes off Raina.

That evening, as they sat across from each other on the outdoor veranda of an exclusive downtown restaurant, all he could think about was how breathtakingly beautiful Raina looked in the Carolina Herrera dress he'd bought her.

The moment he first saw her, wafting down the stairs where he'd been patiently waiting for her at the bottom, the air had rushed out of his lungs, and his heart had lodged painfully in his throat. She was a vision in that dress. An absolute goddess. The silk hugged her sublime curves, and the soft green color beautifully complemented her golden-brown skin, just as Warrick had known it would. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant chignon that accentuated the slender, graceful column of her neck and made him want to kiss and caress her nape. And he didn't want to stop there. He really didn't want to stop there.

She'd smiled shyly and murmured an apology for taking so long, but Warrick had been so thunderstruck that he'd hardly heard a word she'd said. He must have stood there gaping like an idiot, because after another moment Mr. Gibbons had cleared his throat and discreetly nudged him.

An hour and a half later, Warrick was still mesmerized every time he looked at Raina.

The view from their table was perfect. Lush foliage surrounded the veranda. A gentle summer breeze carried the scents of hibiscus and jasmine, and the sky held the promise of a breathtaking sunset.

But Warrick only had eyes for Raina.

The sound of her soft, smoky laughter suddenly lured him out of his trance. “I just want you to know,” she drawled in an amused voice, “that you're making me feel
very
self-conscious.”

Warrick smiled a little. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to.”

“Then stop staring at me like that,” she suggested, those entrancing dark eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I can't help it,” Warrick admitted huskily. “You're an incredibly beautiful woman, Raina.”

She blushed prettily. “Thank you, Warrick. Now will you promise me that you won't say that again for at least the rest of the evening?”

He shook his head. “I can't make that kind of promise.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'd probably break it within seconds of making it. You're beautiful. See what I mean? It just keeps slipping out.”

Raina laughed, shaking her head in helpless exasperation.

Warrick smiled softly at her. He was glad she'd decided to forgive him for the unconscionable way he'd behaved last night. When he'd got up that morning—on the wrong side of the bed, because he'd tossed and turned all night—he'd fully expected to encounter a cold, resentful woman. To his surprise, Raina had been friendly and cheerful.
Too
damned friendly and cheerful. Which had only made him feel worse.

But she'd called him out on his foul mood, and just like that, the air had been cleared, allowing them to enjoy a relaxing afternoon at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, followed by a leisurely stroll along the Benjamin Franklin Parkway. Warrick had visited the art museum and walked along that scenic route countless times before, but he'd never enjoyed those experiences as thoroughly as he had today with Raina by his side. There was something about her, something about
being
with her, that made the simplest things seem profoundly special. Magical.

Like now.

Sitting at that cozy table with her, Warrick felt an indescribable sense of contentment wash over him. He could have stayed there
with Raina all night, although she probably wouldn't appreciate missing the orchestra, which she'd looked forward to all day.

They finished their meals and ordered dessert, although they both laughingly agreed—after the waiter left—that nothing on the menu could be as good as the double-chocolate tart Sonny had served them last night.

Smiling across the table at Warrick, Raina said teasingly, “I bet you and Stephon used to compete over girls all the time back in college.”

Warrick chuckled. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a hunch. Am I right?”

“You are,” he admitted, smiling lazily. “But I'd like to think it was a healthy competition.”

“Healthy, huh?”

“Yeah. We were so eager to outdo each other and impress the ladies that it kept us on our best behavior.” When Raina arched a dubious brow at him, he grinned. “Well, not always. But it's the thought that counts.”

“Of course.”

“Hey, at least we respected each other's territory. If I knew Stephon was really into someone, I backed off, and vice versa. We never let any woman come between our friendship.”

Although that had nearly changed today, Warrick mused darkly, remembering how murderous he'd felt that morning when Stephon had been on the verge of asking Raina out on a date. He'd wanted to haul Stephon across the room and toss him out the damned window, a violent urge that had surprised him. This whole jealousy thing was as new to Warrick as all the other emotions he'd been experiencing lately.

Raina smiled at him. “I really enjoyed taking the tour of your company this morning. You have some amazing people working for you.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Warrick murmured. “They
are
amazing. Every last one of them. I feel very fortunate.”

“I'm sure they feel the same way. In fact, I know they do. When you got called away to the phone, a group of them told me how much they love working at Mayne Industries. Not only do you pay exceptionally well and offer generous benefits, they said, but the culture you've created is nothing like the cold corporate environments many
of them had experienced at other jobs. One of them described Mayne Industries as a ‘world-class company with a warm, family feel.'”

Warrick grinned, even as his chest swelled with pride and satisfaction. “Whoever told you that is getting a very nice raise.”

Raina laughed.

“You made quite an impression yourself,” Warrick said, adding sourly, “Especially on Stephon.”

Grinning, Raina shook her head at him. “Why does that bother—”

“Hello, Warrick,” a brittle feminine voice interrupted.

Warrick glanced up and inwardly groaned when he saw the statuesque, long-haired woman who had appeared at the table. Angela Harvey, the attorney he'd met a couple of weeks ago. Damn, he'd forgotten all about her.

“I
thought
that was your limo parked outside the restaurant,” Angela said coolly, her red lips twisted accusingly. “I didn't even know you were back in town.”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Warrick said evenly. He glanced across the table at Raina, who was watching the exchange with a strained expression.

Warrick bit back a sigh of frustration.
Damn it. Just when everything seemed to be going so well between them.

He rose from the table. “Angela, I'd like you to meet—”

“I'm not interested in meeting your newest little plaything!” Angela snapped, her dark eyes flashing with fury. She raked a contemptuous glance over Raina and sneered, “She looks kind of young, Warrick. Even for you.”

Raina scowled. Before she could open her mouth to defend herself, Warrick shot her a warning look before returning his attention to Angela. A hushed silence had swept over the veranda. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several people staring at them, alerted by Angela's sudden outburst.

Warrick clenched his jaw, his gaze boring into hers. Very deliberately, keeping his voice low and controlled, he said, “Look around you. What if one of your clients is here? Do you really want them to see you making a scene in public?”

Angela barked out a harsh laugh. “Don't try to pretend you're worried about
my
reputation,” she jeered. “The only person you care about is yourself, Warrick Mayne!”

His expression hardened. “If you say so. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish my dinner in peace.”

Her nostrils flared. As her eyes shot to the table and homed in on his freshly refilled wineglass, Warrick read the intent in her gaze. Before she could reach down and snatch the glass, he caught her wrist midair.

“Don't.”

Angela stared into his rigid face, seeing the lethal warning in his eyes. With a strangled cry of frustration she yanked her wrist free, then spun on her heel and hurried away.

Warrick watched her go, his temper simmering. After taking a deep, calming breath, he smoothed down his silk tie and sat back down, ignoring the scandalized stares and whispers of the other diners. He didn't give a damn what strangers thought of him. But he
did
care what Raina thought, and judging by the way she was looking at him, it wasn't good.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured.

Raina just shook her head. Warrick could tell by the thinly veiled disgust on her face that the spectacle she'd just witnessed hadn't shocked her. Instead it had only reinforced her opinion of him as a shameless womanizer, a reputation he'd gained over the years after a string of high-profile breakups.

Warrick swore viciously under his breath. “Raina—”

She threw up a hand. “Despite what she assumed, I'm not your girlfriend. You don't owe me any explanation.”

Warrick snapped his mouth shut.

An awkward silence settled over the table. The relaxed camaraderie he and Raina had enjoyed before Angela's appearance was gone, perhaps for good this time. Warrick mourned the loss, even as his temper flared at the unjustness of it.

He shoved back his chair and stood. “Excuse me,” he said tersely.

Raina stared at him as he turned and strode purposefully from the veranda.

Angela and two of her friends were standing in the elegant reception area, waiting to be seated. The two women appeared to be consoling Angela, whose head was bobbing angrily as she ranted about what had just happened. Only her friends saw Warrick barreling down on them, their eyes widening so dramatically that he
would have laughed if there were anything remotely funny about the situation.

Angela was saying, “And he had the nerve—”

“Come with me,” Warrick growled, seizing her wrist and dragging her down the tiled corridor to a private alcove around the corner from the restrooms.

Angela stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. “Are you—”

“What the
hell
was that little stunt you just pulled?” he demanded, cutting her off.

She folded her arms defiantly across her chest. “All right. Maybe I lost my head a little.”

“Maybe?”
Warrick thundered incredulously.

“I'm sorry!” she burst out. “I didn't know how else to react when I saw you sitting at the table with that
woman.
You're not even supposed to be in town!”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Did I miss something here? Since when do I have to check in with you before I come and go? When did I put a damned ring on your finger?”

Angela flinched, her face flushing with humiliation. “I never thought—”

“Sure as hell could have fooled me, the way you just performed back there!” He shook his head, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. And maybe he hadn't. The vengeful, hysterical woman who'd just made a fool of herself on the veranda bore no resemblance whatsoever to the smart, witty,
confident
attorney Warrick had met a few weeks ago.

Angela said bitterly, “I've been calling you every day since you left, and you didn't even have the decency to respond to any of my messages. What was I supposed to think when I showed up here and saw you with another woman?”

Warrick stared at her, dumbfounded. “We've never even been on a real date, Angela. We've gone out for drinks a couple times, and that's it. Where do you get off acting like we had something more than that?”

Hurt flared in her eyes. “Because I thought we did. I thought we really had a connection, Warrick, but I guess I was wrong. All those tabloid stories I've read about you are obviously true, and that
child
out there is obviously your latest conquest!”

Warrick scowled. “First of all, she's not a child. She's thirty damned years old. And she's not my
conquest.

“Yeah, right,” Angela scoffed, her lips twisting cynically. “I suppose you're also going to tell me she's just a friend, right? She's just an old, long-lost friend you've known since childhood, right?”

“Actually,” Warrick snarled, “I've known her since I was sixteen. Does that count as childhood?”

Angela faltered, her eyes narrowing. “I don't believe you.”

“Believe whatever the hell you want. And while you're at it, Angela, lose my damned number.”

“Warrick, wait!” she cried out, grabbing his arm as he started away. “I'm sorry. I overreacted, okay? Believe me, I've never behaved that way before. When I wake up tomorrow morning and remember what I did tonight, I'm going to be mortified. All I can say in my defense is that I'm really feeling you, Warrick. I was looking forward to spending more time with you and getting to know you better.”

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