Heaven Sent Read Online Free

still alive! Placing a hand on his forehead, she pulled it away quickly. His flesh was hot and dry.
    “Hold the lamp, Poppa, while I take a better look.”
    Raul moved closer and took the lamp from her. He averted his gaze as Serena’s fingers moved gently over David’s head and cheek.
    “He needs a doctor,” she concluded. “He’s going to need sutures to close the wound along his temple. He also must have antibiotics to combat any infections that may have set in. His fever is probably somewhere near one-o-three.”
    Raul’s hand wavered slightly. “I’ve already sent for one. Is he going to make it?”
    Serena’s gaze met his. “I’m not sure.”
    “You’re a nurse. You should know.”
    Her gaze narrowed. “I’m a health care professional, not a miracle worker. And my professional opinion is that if the bleeding doesn’t stop, or if his body temperature continues to rise, then yes, he will die.”
    “He can’t,” Raul whispered.
    “I’ll stay with him and do what I can until the doctor arrives.”
    Raul placed the lamp on the side table and raced out of the room. He needed to make certain Rodrigo had sent for the doctor. He had been called many things, but he was not a murderer. As much as he despised David Cole, he never would have deliberately taken his life. Besides, he needed the man alive.
    Serena unwrapped the sheet covering David’s body, searching for other wounds. The golden light illuminated a perfectly formed male body that appeared to be at the peak of superior conditioning. There wasn’t an ounce of excess flesh or fat on his frame. He was lean and muscular at the same time. There was no doubt that he worked out regularly.
    Her professional gaze moved slowly over the matted hair on his chest, his flat belly, and down to his long, muscular legs. Her fingers went to his right ankle. Itwas swollen twice its normal size, and she hoped it was only severely sprained, not broken.
    A flurry of questions swirled in her mind as she retreated to an adjoining bathroom and filled a large ceramic pitcher with cool water. Cradling the pitcher in a matching bowl, she carried them back to the bedroom. She returned to the bathroom a second time and came back with a facecloth and towel. She needed to cleanse the wound and attempt to check the bleeding.
    Sitting on the side of the bed, Serena emptied half the pitcher of water into the bowl. Methodically, she wet the cloth, wrang it out, then laid it gently along the cheek of the man lying so still, so motionless, on the bed in her parents’ guest bedroom.
    She repeated the motion at least a dozen times before most of the blood was washed away. Her eyebrows shifted when she finally surveyed the extent of the wound. Her diagnosis was correct: he would require sutures. The open laceration began at the sphenoid bone and ended mid-cheek; she doubted whether it would heal without leaving a noticeable scar.
    David stirred restlessly as he tried surfacing from the heavy darkness holding him prisoner. His tongue felt as if it were too large for his mouth, and the pain in his head tightened like a vise. Had someone put something in his drink?
    Opening his mouth several times he tried forming the words, but nothing came out. Was he mute? After several attempts he managed, “
Tengo dolor
.”
    Serena placed a cool hand on his hot forehead. Even though he wasn’t fully conscious he’d spoken Spanish, and she assumed it was his native tongue.
    “I know you’re in pain,” she replied in the same language. “You’ve hurt your head.” Resting the cool clothover his left eye, she pulled his head to her breasts, cradling him gently.
    David mumbled incoherently before he retreated to a place where there was no pain. He felt himself floating, high above the ground. He floated above treetops, sailing along the wind currents with large, powerful birds.
    A sweet, haunting fragrance wafted in his nostrils, and he wondered how was he able to smell flowers so close to