Touch of Heaven (4 page)

Raina St. James didn't seem to have that problem.

Earlier as he and Deniece were being escorted to their private table, Warrick had watched as Raina's dinner companion fed her a bite of his steak. She'd closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the meat with a rapturous expression on her face that had made his gut clench, a reaction obviously shared by her date, who had stared at Raina like he wanted to devour her right there.

Throughout dinner Warrick had found his gaze straying back to the couple, unable to stop himself. From where he sat he had a clear view of their table. They were now sharing a large bowl of tiramisu, laughing and gazing into each other's eyes like a pair of lovesick teenagers on their first date.

“Well, well, well,” Deniece intoned mockingly. “Looks like Little Miss Thang finally got herself a man.”

Dragging his gaze away from the nauseating spectacle across the room, Warrick lifted his glass and gulped down the rest of his wine. He could care less about Raina St. James's love life.

“It's about time,” Deniece drawled, sounding vaguely amused. “I was beginning to wonder.”

A waiter materialized just then, refilling Warrick's wineglass with an elegant flourish. After he had moved off, Warrick looked at Deniece, patiently waiting for her to elaborate on her comment. When she said nothing more, he told himself to let it go. But his curiosity got the best of him.

“You were beginning to wonder what?” he prompted.

Deniece smiled at him, a glint of vicious satisfaction in her eyes. “I was beginning to wonder how long she planned to pine away for you.”

Warrick frowned in confusion. “Who?”

“Raina.”

“Raina?”

Deniece nodded. “I remember the way she used to stare at you all the time, watching you like an adoring little puppy begging to be noticed by its master.”

“Raina?”

“Yes,
Raina.
” Deniece shot him an exasperated look. “Why do you think I always gave her such a hard time?”

Warrick chuckled dryly. “No offense, Niecy, but you gave
everyone
a hard time.”

“That's not true,” she said defensively. “Only the girls who were up to no good. And Raina St. James definitely fell into that category. She had a crush on you, Warrick.”

He barked out a laugh. “Nah, not Raina. She was just a kid! She was only, what,
eleven
when you and I started going out? Come on, Niecy. She was six years younger than us. What could she possibly do for me?”

Deniece rolled her eyes heavenward, muttering under her breath, “Men can be so dense at times.”

Warrick flashed an insolent grin. “If you're telling me you felt threatened by an eleven-year-old girl,” he teased, “then you've got a lot of nerve calling someone else dense. Besides, you're seriously mistaken about Raina. It wasn't like that at all.”

Deniece held up her hands in mock surrender. “Fine. If that's what you choose to believe, Warrick, be my guest. But
I
know the truth, and so does Raina. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. Even if she stripped naked and threw herself at you, I know you wouldn't give her the time of day. Not after what she did to Yolanda.”

Warrick stiffened, the grin fading from his face.

Noting his reaction, Deniece immediately realized her mistake. She blew out a deep breath and shook her head. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up such a painful subject.”

“It's all right,” Warrick said quietly. “You know Yolanda's never far from my mind.”

Deniece nodded sympathetically. “When does she get out?”

“October ninth. One hundred three days and counting.” Warrick's chest tightened as he thought about the long anticipated reunion with Yolanda Mayne, a day that promised to be as emotionally charged
for his family as the terrible, heart-wrenching day his sister was found guilty in court.

“Have you had a chance to visit her since you've been back?” Deniece asked, picking up her fork to resume nibbling on her salad.

Warrick shook his head, his expression grim. “Not yet. She's asked the family to limit our visits to once a month.”

Deniece frowned. “Once a month? Why?”

“She said she's getting more anxious as her release date approaches. It's becoming harder and harder for her to see us for brief, limited periods of time. She said she gets really depressed afterward. So she decided it would be better, for her sake, if we visited less frequently.” He paused, reflecting on how difficult and painful that decision must have been for Yolanda, who, as the baby, had always thrived on the love and attention lavished on her by her family.

“My mother asked me and my brothers to wait until she and Yasmin return from vacation in a few days so we can visit Yolanda together as a family,” Warrick said.

Deniece offered a tentative smile. “Will you tell Yo-Yo I said hello?”

“Of course.” There was only one person Yolanda Mayne never wanted to hear from again, and it wasn't the woman seated across the table from Warrick.

He frowned, his gaze drifting back to the table where Raina and her date were now lingering over coffee. As Warrick watched the couple, Deniece's words replayed in his mind.

Deniece was wrong. Raina St. James had never had a crush on him. He would have picked up on something like that, although, admittedly, he'd never paid much attention to any of his baby sister's friends. His older sister's friends—definitely. But not Yolanda's. Besides, Raina had always struck Warrick as cool and aloof, and more than once he'd gotten the impression that she thought she was better than him and his family. He'd seen the way she watched him and his brothers as she passed by the crumbling basketball court where they were playing, her nose wrinkling in distaste at their crass language and the misogynistic rap music blaring from their stereo. Warrick remembered her looking the same way the very first time Yolanda had brought her home from school, when they were ten years old. Raina had taken one look around their ramshackle house filled with hand-me-down furniture, outdated appliances and
scuffed floors, and had turned up her nose in disgust. Warrick hadn't been at all surprised when Yolanda confided to him that Raina's parents didn't approve of their daughter hanging out in a Section 8 neighborhood. What had surprised him was how often Raina had come back. For whatever reason, she had seemed to prefer spending time at their house over her own—a single-story brick home with large windows and a tidy yard in one of the few middle-class suburbs in the Third Ward. That was about all Warrick had ever seen of the place, as he'd never stuck around long enough to be invited inside whenever he dropped Raina off at home.

Yolanda had usually tagged along for the ride, but on the few occasions when she'd been forced to stay behind to finish her chores, Warrick had been stuck trying to make small talk with Raina, who had gazed out the window and answered in monosyllables until Warrick finally gave up and turned on the radio to fill the silence.

He sure as hell didn't remember Raina staring at him or giving him the slightest impression she wanted attention. It had been just the opposite.

The more Warrick thought about it, the more he was convinced that Deniece was seriously delusional. Raina had never had a crush on him. And he thanked God for that.

The warmth of Deniece's hand upon his brought Warrick back to the present. He pulled his gaze from Raina's table and looked at Deniece. She had finished eating and was smiling seductively at him.

“I was going to say penny for your thoughts,” she murmured, “but considering how much you're worth, you would probably charge more than that.”

Warrick chuckled, lacing their fingers together on the table. “Wanna know what I was thinking? I was wondering whatever happened to the country girl who used to throw down with me, the girl who could eat a platter of ribs, brisket and sausage with a helping of potato salad and beans without batting an eyelash.”

Deniece smiled, shaking her head at him. “I'm not seventeen anymore, Warrick. My metabolism isn't what it used to be, so I have to watch what I eat nowadays. Unless you
want
to be embarrassed to have me on your arm the next time we appear in public together.”

Warrick gave her a soft, teasing smile. “Who says there's going to be a next time?”

Deniece laughed, a low, sultry sound. “Oh, there will be. Trust me. I might not be able to eat barbecue the way I used to, but I can assure you that there are
plenty
of other things I can do just as well, if not better.” Leaning close to Warrick, she purred in his ear, “By the time I get through with you tonight, baby, you'll wonder how you could have stayed away so long.”

Warrick needed no convincing. Without another word, he signaled for the check.

 

If Raina thought she'd be able to escape the restaurant without having to deal with Warrick, she soon discovered otherwise.

She was standing in the foyer waiting for Bradford to retrieve his car from the parking garage when a low, rumbling voice drawled, “How was dinner?”

Raina spun around, startled to find Warrick directly behind her. He stood so close she could smell him, soap mingled with the subtle fragrance of a very expensive cologne. So close that she could feel his heat and the masculine energy that surrounded him like a crackling force field, electrifying her senses. Blindsiding her.

She took a hasty step backward, her face flushing when those sensual lips twitched. She started to tell him it was rude to invade other people's personal space, but she didn't want to sound uptight, nor did she want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd rattled her. Because he had, damn him.

“Dinner was fine,” she said curtly.

A faintly mocking smile curved his mouth. “Yeah, I could tell.”

Bristling, Raina glared up at him. “What's that supposed to mean? Were you spying on me or something?”

“Maybe.”

Raina didn't know how to respond to that. Really, how
could
she respond? “Where's your date?” she asked instead.

“In the ladies' room. Yours?”

“He went to get the car.”

Warrick raised one thick black brow, an amused gleam in his eyes. “Too cheap to pay for valet parking?”

“No!” Raina said vehemently, incensed because the same thought had occurred to her. Especially in light of what had happened a few minutes ago. When the bill had arrived, Bradford had suggested off
handedly that he and Raina split the tab. She'd been too stunned to protest, nodding mutely and reaching for her purse. She'd have to process her feelings later, after the shock wore off.

And speaking of Bradford, she thought, what on earth was taking him so long?

“How long have you been dating that pretty boy?”

Raina was so startled by the question that it took her a moment to recover and respond. “None of your damn business,” she snapped.

Warrick chuckled softly, and Raina realized that he was deliberately baiting her, trying to get a rise out of her. And she was playing right into his hands.

Deciding to fight fire with fire, she made an exaggerated show of glancing around the elegant foyer and saying sweetly, “Gee, I wonder what's taking Deniece so long? Maybe you should go check up on her. You know, to make sure she's not bent over a toilet puking up that enormous salad she had for dinner.”

Warrick inclined his head, his eyes glinting with amusement and a trace of grudging respect. “Touché.”

Raina felt a perverse twinge of satisfaction.

It didn't last long.

“I find it interesting,” Warrick said very casually, “that you noticed what my date was eating from all the way across the room. Were you spying on us or something?”

Raina blinked, heat crawling up her neck and spreading across her cheeks.

Warrick's mouth curved in a slow, triumphant grin.

Raina pivoted abruptly and walked to the opposite end of the foyer, looking out the window at the circular driveway bustling with the arrival and departure of luxury vehicles. Well-dressed men and women swept through the doors of the restaurant and were ceremoniously ushered to the dining room by the maître d'.

Where the hell was Bradford?

Raina stiffened as Warrick came up beside her at the window. What did the infuriating man want?

“I have to say, Raina,” he murmured, his deep, dark voice brushing across her skin like a whispered caress, “you've really come into your own. I can't get over how beautiful you look.”

Raina's stomach bottomed out.

She turned her head and found Warrick staring down at her, his hooded eyes roaming across her face in a way that did dangerous things to her pulse. There was a time she would have given anything to have him look at her the way he was looking at her now, to hear him say the things he was saying to her now. But it had never happened before, and over time she'd been forced to relinquish the fantasy to hard, cold reality. And the reality was that Warrick Mayne despised her and blamed her for his sister's downfall. And now he wanted to punish her by putting her out of business.