Free Heaven Sent by Rochelle Alers Page A

himself, had he become so selfish? When had he come to think only of David Cole, and no one else but David Cole?
    Resting his head against the back of the wing chair, he slowly opened his eyes and stared at the space where Serena had been. He hadn’t been that way when he was with Night Mood. He had been a member of a band who thought of themselves as an extended family. They’dtraveled, eaten, slept, and rehearsed together. The six men saw more of one another than they did their own biological family members. The six men thought as one, and performed as one unit.
    But his own selflessness stopped once he left Night Mood and took over as CEO of ColeDiz. His focus became productivity and profit margins. All he thought about was winning, at any cost.
    He remembered a time when he had not wanted anything to do with business. All he’d wanted, knew, and breathed, was music. And as much as he fought the pull, his instincts for business were predetermined. His maternal grandfather, his own father, and his brothers had been, and were, consummate deal makers. A small amount of capital in their hands proliferated like yeast-filled dough.
    His first passion had been, and would always be, music, but over the past nine years deal making had become a priority. And with the deal making came a hardness, a self-centered ruthlessness he hadn’t realized he possessed—until now.
    Serena Morris had taken care of him, while he only cared about himself. He was alive, while her brother was going to die. He could not retract what he’d said, but he could try to make amends.
    Using the armrests as support, he pushed to his feet, swaying, then stood upright. He ignored the pain in his head and foot as he gingerly made his way slowly across the room. Stumbling, he gathered the sheet in his right hand and inched his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway. It took Herculean strength for him to turn his head to the right, then the left. His bedroom was at the end of the hallway, so using the wall as his support he turned left. He had to find Serena. He had toapologize. He also needed answers to a few questions. If this was really
La Montaña
, then what was she to Raul Cordero-Vega?
    He ignored the wave of heat and then chills which were sweeping over his face and chest. A rush of dizziness caused him to stumble again. Reaching out, he braced a hand against the wall, steadying his progress and slowing his pace.
    Moisture beaded his forehead and coated his upper body. Each step he took weakened him, but he would not give in to the relentless pain stealing whatever strength was left in his battered body.
    He slowed his halting steps in front of a door. Leaning against its solid surface, he knocked. There was no answer and he tried turning the doorknob. It was locked.
    He continued down the wide hallway, his bare feet making no sound on the Moorish style patterned runner. Even though the next room was less than twenty feet away it could have been all of two hundred. Gritting his teeth in frustration, David willed the dizziness to abate. He could abide the pain, but not the dizziness and weakness.
    The door to the next room was open; leaning weakly against the door frame, David saw Serena. She stood with her back to the door, staring out the window. She was motionless, her arms wrapped around her body in a protective gesture.
    With his uninjured eye he noticed the slender lines of her body in the black slacks. The dark color slimmed her narrow waist and hips. His gaze moved up to her hair, and for the second time since he’d come to Costa Rica he smiled. He liked her hair. Right now it was secured on the top of her head but he wanted to see itdown, floating around her face and shoulders in a rich cloud of gold-brown and red curls.
    “
Lo siento mucho, Serena
.”
    She heard the melodious male voice and spun around. Her gaze widened when she saw David supporting his sagging body against the door. Crossing her bedroom quickly, she wound an arm