Carla Cassidy - Pregnant In Prosperino p.02

Four

“Chance?”

“Yeah?”

Lana rolled over on her side and tried to discern his features in the darkness of the bedroom. They had been lying side-by-side for half an hour, but she’d known he wasn’t sleeping by his breathing and by his restless tossing and turning.

And she had been unable to sleep as she’d waited for him to touch her, to lean over and kiss her. She felt as if she were about to explode from not knowing what to expect. “Are we going to…” She allowed her voice to trail off.

There was a long moment of silence, then she sensed rather than saw him turning to face her. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t feel like it tonight. I thought maybe…you know…you might be sore.”

She could hear the tinge of embarrassment in his voice and was grateful for the cover of darkness to hide her own embarrassment. “I am a little tender,” she admitted.

“Get a good night’s sleep, Lana. There’s always tomorrow night.” He rolled over once again and within minutes she realized he’d fallen asleep.

Lana was both disappointed and relieved that there would be no lovemaking that night. She had a feeling that if they attempted it, she would find it uncomfortable, yet she longed to have him kiss her again, hold her in his strong arms.

She fell asleep and dreamed of Chance’s body pressed against hers, his warmth surrounding her. She awakened at dawn, shocked to find that in sleep her body and Chance’s had found each other.

His arm was thrown across her stomach and one of his legs was entwined with hers. His breath was warm against the side of her neck and he lay on her hair, effectively trapping her against him.

She was trapped, but she was a willing prisoner. His skin was toast-warm against her, and his masculine scent filled her senses. This is the way married people sleep, she thought. They share not only the intimacy of making love, but also the pleasure of waking in each other’s arms.

Closing her eyes, she hoped he didn’t awaken for a while. She just wanted to lie here and indulge in the sweet experience of his nearness.

She must have fallen back asleep, for when she opened her eyes once again, she was alone in the bed. She got up, pulled her robe around her and went into the bathroom. She quickly washed up, brushed her hair into a neat bun, then headed for the kitchen.

He was seated at the table, the morning paper stretched out before him and a cup of coffee in hand. He looked up as she entered, an open, unguarded smile curving his lips. “Good morning,” he said.

She returned his smile and wondered if he had any idea how handsome he looked. Nobody wore jeans and a T-shirt as well as Chance Reilly. “Good morning. You want some breakfast?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Just coffee for me. I’ve never been much of a breakfast eater.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. His hair was still damp from a shower and she could smell the faint scent of minty soap and shaving cream. The scent, so masculine and so intrinsically his, caused a wistful yearning to take residence in the pit of her stomach.

“Did you sleep well?” He folded the paper and shoved it aside.

“Like a log.” She took a sip of her coffee and felt her cheeks warm as his gaze lingered on her.

“Why do you do that with your hair?” he asked.

She reached up with one hand and self-consciously touched the neat bun. “Why do I do what?”

“Pull it all back like that.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Habit I guess. When I’m working I pull it back for convenience sake.”

“I wish you’d wear it loose more often.” He broke his gaze from hers and stood. “And now it’s time for me to get to work.”

“Do you want me to bring lunch out to you?” she asked.

“No, I’ll come in around noon. I’ll make my phone calls to hire some help after lunch.” With these words, he left the house.

Lana finished her coffee, then went into the bathroom to shower and dress for the day. A half an hour later she stood before the dresser mirror in the bedroom and stared at her reflection. He liked her hair, and he wished she’d wear it loose more often.

It seemed a simple enough request, and when she left the bedroom, her hair was loose and falling freely down her back.

The morning passed quickly as Lana busied herself with household chores and planning the evening meal.

It was just after eleven when a knock fell on the front door. Lana answered and squealed in delight as she saw her younger sister with her precious Marissa in her arms.

“Maya! Come in,” she said as she reached out to take her niece. A gleeful chortle issued from Marissa as she held out her arms to Lana.

Lana cuddled Marissa close and kissed her solidly on the forehead, then grinned at her sister. “Come on into the kitchen. I just made some fresh lemonade.”

“I shouldn’t even be speaking to you,” Maya said as she followed Lana into the kitchen. Her dark eyes flashed as she plopped down in a chair at the table.

“What did I do?” Lana asked as she sat, with Marissa on her lap, across from her beautiful sister.

“Without a word to anyone, you got married!” Maya glared at her as if she’d committed a heinous crime. “Mama told me this morning and I couldn’t believe it!”

A wave of guilt swept through Lana. She’d specifically asked her mother not to tell Maya the real circumstances of her marriage to Chance.

Maya, flush with her love for her husband, Drake, would have never, ever understood the forces that had driven Lana into a loveless marriage with an expiration date.

“It all happened so fast,” Lana said. She kissed the top of Marissa’s head, loving the sweet scent of baby that clung to the little girl. “And if I remember correctly, I could be mad at you for the very same reasons. I don’t recall attending your wedding and you didn’t call me the moment this sweet baby arrived into the world.” She smiled at her sister. “How about I pour us some lemonade and we forgive each other.”

Maya leaned forward and reached for Lana’s hand. “You know I can’t stay mad at you. I just wish you would have given me an opportunity to be part of it. I could have thrown you a bridal shower, bought you a tacky gift, helped you shop for a wedding dress.” She released Lana’s hand and stood. “And I’ll pour the lemonade so you get more quality time with the baby.”

“Fine with me,” Lana said and once again cuddled the dear little girl close. “She’s getting so big,” Lana exclaimed.

“They grow fast, don’t they,” Maya agreed. “We’re hoping that before too long she’ll have a little brother or a sister.”

“And maybe a cousin,” Lana added, her heart swelling at the very idea.

Maya clapped her hands together. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful!”

The back door opened and Chance walked in.

“Ah, there he is,” Maya said. “The man of the hour—my new brother-in-law.” She reached up and gave Chance a smacking peck on the cheek. “Welcome to the fold.”

“Thanks.” He hugged her briefly, his gaze focused on Lana. “And that must be the amazing Marissa,” he said.

“Indeed, it is!” Lana lifted the little girl up in the air, laughing as Marissa kicked her feet and waved her hands with excitement. “Isn’t she just about the prettiest little girl you’ve ever seen in your life?”

Chance winked at Maya. “I can remember another little girl I thought was quite pretty.”

Lana blushed as she realized he was talking about her. Of course, she knew he was just keeping up the pretense, but still, his words shot heat through her. She once again cradled the squirming, wiggling baby in her lap and began a game of pat-a-cake.

“I was just pouring us a glass of lemonade,” Maya said. “You joining us?”

“Sounds good.” He sat next to Lana at the table and Marissa stared at him solemnly, apparently measuring him to see if he was worthy of one of her drooling, toothless grins. He passed her test and she grinned at him, batting dark lashes flirtatiously.

“She’s going to be a real heartbreaker,” he said, a softness on his face Lana had never seen before.

Maya set the glasses of lemonade on the table, then sat down once again. She looked from Chance to Lana, then laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you two finally got together. Lana has never been as crazy about a guy as she was over you, Chance.”

“Maya,” Lana protested and shot her sister a look she hoped would make her change the subject, but Maya merely laughed.

“Oh, goodness, don’t tell me Chance didn’t know that you were absolutely besotted with him when you were a kid.”

“Actually, I didn’t know that,” Chance said and once again looked at Lana, one of his golden-brown eyebrows lifted with amused interest.

“Everyone else knew it,” Maya exclaimed, studiously ignoring Lana’s pointed glare. “She drove us all crazy that year you lived with the Coltons. Even Meredith told me she wondered if Lana could complete a sentence without your name in it.”

“She did not,” Lana protested. “You’re making that up.”

“Maybe I am,” Maya laughed, then sobered suddenly. “Of course, Meredith doesn’t say much of anything nice to anyone anymore.”

“What’s going on with Meredith?” Chance asked.

Although Lana was grateful for the change of topic, thoughts of Meredith Colton always produced a deep sadness in her. “Meredith has changed, Chance.”

“Changed how?” he asked, and she knew he was remembering the beautiful woman with the warm brown eyes and open smile who had welcomed him into their home.

“She’s become a raving lunatic,” Maya said. “She’s mean-spirited and hateful and snaps at everyone who gets near her. If Mama and Dad didn’t love Joe and the rest of the family so much, they probably would have quit working there by now.”

Chance leaned back in his chair, obviously stunned by the news. “What happened to her? I mean, the person you just described is totally at odds with the woman I knew.”

“The big change in her took place right after she had a terrible car accident,” Lana said. “It was about ten years ago, not long after you left Prosperino. She and Emily were going somewhere and they crashed. Neither of them were seriously hurt, but I heard that Emily had horrible nightmares after that and Meredith was never the same.”

“What about Joe? How’s he doing?” Chance asked.

Again a wave of sadness shot through Lana. “Mama says he’s just a shell, going through the motions, but most of the time he just seems lost.”

Marissa laughed and clapped her hands together, as if to break the somber mood.

“I’d better get moving,” Maya said with a glance at her watch. “I’ve got several more errands to run before this kid is ready for lunch.”

“You sure you can’t stay any longer?” Lana asked, reluctant to relinquish the baby girl in her arms. There was nothing quite as wonderful as holding a baby.

“Not today. But now that you’re an old married lady like me, we’ll have to get together for lunch, exchange recipes and gossip,” Maya said.

Lana nodded and gave Marissa one last kiss. “Goodbye, sweet baby,” she said softly. She looked up to see Chance staring at her, an odd expression on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me out.” Maya took Marissa from Lana’s lap. “See you two later.” She gave a cheery wave, then walked out of the kitchen. A moment later the sound of the front door opening and closing indicated she was gone.

“You ready for some lunch?” Lana asked, fidgeting nervously beneath Chance’s steady gaze.

“No thanks,” he said.

“You aren’t hungry?”

“Actually, I am hungry…but I’m not hungry for lunch.”

It was a good thing Lana was sitting, for had she not been, her knees would have surely weakened by the sudden realization of what he was talking about.

Green flames lit his eyes, and even though she had never seen a man look at her in that way, there was a primal part of her that recognized it and responded.

“Then what are you hungry for?” she asked, her voice half-breathless with anticipation and nerves. Her mouth was unbelievably dry.

He leaned forward and wrapped a strand of her hair slowly around his hand, pulling her forward with a gentle pressure. “I’m hungry for the taste of your mouth, for the feel of your skin against mine.”

His words evoked a heat inside her, and his eyes were like the sea, so green, so compelling. She wanted to fall into them, fall into him.

“Are you feeling better today?” he asked, his lips mere inches from hers.

“I’m feeling fine,” she whispered, then blushed. “But, Chance…it’s the middle of the day.”

“We’ll pull the drapes.” He gave her no opportunity to protest, but instead stood and pulled her up and into his arms.

His mouth took possession of hers, his tongue seeking entry as his hands pressed her intimately against him. The sweet rush of wild sensations that had claimed her on the first night he’d kissed her returned, sending her senses reeling.

When he finally removed his mouth from hers, she was utterly breathless. He held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to lead her down the hallway and into their bedroom.

Once there, she stood and watched, her heart thudding in anticipation as he drew the heavy draperies across the windows, throwing the room into semidarkness. He reached into the nightstand drawer and removed a package of matches, then lit the candle she had sitting on the top of the nightstand.

When he looked at her once again, his eyes reflected the glow of the candle. Lana’s mouth grew dry once again and every nerve ending in her body felt as if it were on fire.

His gaze still locked with hers, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor just behind him. The candlelight loved his chest, turning the springy hair into sparkles and sharply defining the muscles and planes.

He remained standing, watching her expectantly, and Lana suddenly realized what he wanted. Her fingers trembled as she raised her hands to the top button of her blouse. Never before had she felt the kind of raw, sexual want that she did at the moment. It was both exhilarating and more than a little bit frightening.

With the unclasping of each button, she was more exposed, but it was the flames in his eyes that urged her onward, until all the buttons were unfastened and she slid the blouse off her shoulders as he had done with his shirt.

His eyes flared as his gaze traveled across her lace-clad breasts. In three strides he had her once again in his arms, his mouth covering hers in a demanding kiss. At the same time his hands tangled in her hair.

When his lips finally left hers, he tugged gently on her hair and her head fell backward, giving his lips a trail to blaze down the length of her throat.

Conscious thought was impossible as his hands moved from the tangle of her hair to cover her breasts. Her nipples hardened, as if seeking the heat his hands offered.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured against her neck.

She wanted to tell him that he was beautiful, that she’d never seen a man quite so beautiful, but speaking was just as impossible as rational thought. She could only feel…feel Chance’s body against hers, feel marvelous sensations and a depth of emotion.

Her breath caught in her throat as his hands left her breasts and instead touched the fastening of her jeans. With a simple flick of his fingers, the jeans were unfastened and his fingers moved the zipper down.

He stepped back from her only long enough for her to kick the jeans off altogether, then she reached for his waistband. As she undid his jeans, she could feel his desire pressing hard against her hand and her heart accelerated its pace.

He tore off his jeans and briefs, and at the same time Lana took off her bra and panties, wanting, needing to be naked with him, to feel his body against hers.

They fell to the bed, mouths locked and hands clutching, caressing, stroking the flames of desire higher and higher. She cried out as Chance explored one of her breasts with his mouth and swirled his tongue lightly across the peak.

She tangled her fingers in his hair as pressure built within her, a pressure she’d never felt before. She could feel it taking over her body, a need so incredible, a want so exquisite.

As his hands moved down the length of her, touching her with more intimacy than she’d ever allowed, the pressure intensified. She felt as if she were going to explode. She needed…needed something, but she wasn’t sure what.

“Chance, I need you.” Was that her voice, so breathless, so utterly wanton?

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth as his fingers continued to dance at the core of her, building the tension until she thought she might explode.

Just when she thought she might scream, a wave of sensation swept through her, carrying her over a cliff and sending tiny shudders of bliss through her.

She clung to him, crying his name over and over again as the maelstrom of pleasure washed over her. Before she had time to recover, he moved between her thighs and entered her.

She tensed, expecting pain. But there was no pain, only a rebirth of a storm building within her. He took her slowly, riding the waves of desire with her.

Her hips moved of their own accord, arching up to meet his thrusts at the same time his mouth claimed hers in fiery want.

When he ended the kiss, his gaze bore into hers. Green seas, hypnotic and beautiful, beckoned her to fall in and drown. She cried out once again as the waves overtook her, pulling her under in a vortex of pleasure. At the same time she felt him stiffen against her, her name a hoarse cry on his lips.

For a long moment they remained entwined, their heartbeats slowing to a more normal pace, their bodies cooling without the heat of passion to warm them.

Now Lana understood what lovemaking was supposed to be. She’d never dreamed it would be so wonderful, so exciting, so…beautiful. Her body still tingled with the residual warmth of what they’d shared, and for just a moment, as their gazes had locked like their bodies were locked, she’d felt their connection had been more than physical.

He looked at her now, the flames gone from his eyes, but still a tenderness remaining. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” She laughed suddenly. “My goodness, Chance, I never dreamed it would be so…so good.”

He grinned, an open, wonderful grin that reminded her of the Chance of her childhood. “You mean even when you were young and thought you were madly in love with me, your fantasies didn’t overrate me as a lover?”

“My fantasies were so innocent, I never got further than a kiss.” She smiled teasingly. “But you kissed very well in those flights of fancy.”

“Naturally,” he replied, looking devilishly handsome and boyish with his hair all tousled. “And what about in reality?”

“Let’s just say my fantasies didn’t begin to live up to the reality.”

He touched the tip of her nose with an index finger. “You were always a sweet kid and you’ve grown into a sweet woman.” He rolled away from her and onto his back and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. “That year I spent at the Coltons’ place was the best year of my life.”

Lana raised up on one elbow, loving the sight of him with the candle glow painting his body. She would be perfectly satisfied to lie here and look at him for hours. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Meredith and Joe, hasn’t it?”

He nodded. “Years. Whenever I came back here, I only stayed until I couldn’t stand being around my dad any longer.” He frowned. “Usually by the end of the first day, I was ready to hightail it out of here. There never seemed to be enough time to visit with anyone else.”

“Why don’t you go over there and see them now?”

His frown deepened. “After listening to you and Maya talking about Meredith, I don’t want to see her. I’d rather remember them like they were.”

A bitter laugh escaped him and he sat up. “Hearing the way Meredith and Joe have fallen apart merely proves what I’ve always believed.”

“And what’s that?” she asked softly.

His eyes glittered with a harsh light. “That there is no such thing as lasting love, and anyone who believes otherwise is just a fool.”

“Surely you don’t really believe that,” she protested softly. “What about my parents? They are as in love with each other today as the day they married years ago.”

“They are the exception, not the rule. And even if I did believe in love and marriage, I know it isn’t for me.” He rolled off the bed and grabbed his jeans and quickly pulled them on. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

Lana sat up and grabbed the blanket around her, suddenly feeling cold and naked. “What about lunch?”

“I’m not hungry.” He picked up his shirt and headed out the door.

She pulled the blanket more firmly around her. How quickly he transformed from passionate and tender to hurting and defensive. His actions and words served to remind her that she couldn’t fall into any fantasy where he was concerned.

It would be easy, with the flush of their lovemaking still on her skin, with the residual heat of his touch still coursing through her, to believe that they might have a future together. It would be so easy to lose herself in the softness she’d seen momentarily in his eyes, and to believe that he might fall in love with her.

But to do so would be utter foolishness. She absolutely, positively could not allow herself to forget for one minute that this marriage was nothing more than a temporary arrangement.



Jackson, Mississippi. Meredith Colton stared out the window onto the city where she had been living, as if by looking at the scenery she could somehow reclaim the memory of all the events that had brought her here years before.

Some of her memories were still obscured by the darkness of amnesia, others had become crystal-clear, leaving her in a sort of shadowy transitional place between living her own life and somebody else’s.

She stepped away from the window and instead walked over to the desk. She picked up the nameplate that read Dr. Martha Wilkes, and ran her fingers lightly over the etched golden letters.

Had it not been for Dr. Wilkes, Meredith still might be living her life believing she was her twin sister, Patsy Portman. Now she knew the truth, that ten years ago her sister had run her car off the road and in the aftermath of that accident Patsy had stolen Meredith’s life, leaving Meredith to ten years of amnesia, nightmares and unanswered questions about herself.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Dr. Wilkes swept into the room, an apologetic smile on her beautiful ebony face.

“I didn’t mind waiting.” Meredith set the nameplate back on the desk, then took a seat on the settee that faced the desk.

Dr. Wilkes joined her there rather than taking a seat behind her desk. “How are you feeling?” Her dark eyes radiated not only curiosity but also an empathy that Meredith found comforting.

She frowned. “Excited…afraid…confused. Memories are coming faster and faster now, but there are still so many holes.”

Dr. Wilkes nodded. “You’ve learned a lot about yourself in the last couple of weeks. The surprise visit from Rand and Emily opened up the floodgates of your memory.”

Meredith smiled at thoughts of her oldest son and her sweet, adopted daughter Emily. At first, Meredith hadn’t recognized either of them, but as they talked to her, told her what they’d managed to piece together about the day of the car accident and the intervening years with Patsy acting as Meredith, Meredith’s memories had begun to emerge from the dark place where they had been hiding.

Her first, strong memory had grown out of the nightmare she’d suffered for the past ten years. It was the nightmare of a little red-haired girl crying out to her. “Mommy, where are you? Help me. Please, help me,” the child in her dreams had cried.

Meredith would awaken crying because she knew the child needed her, but she couldn’t remember who the child was. A grief almost too intense to bear would ache in her heart for days after one of those nightmares.

Now the little girl had a name and the memories to go with the name. Sweet Emily. Meredith’s adopted daughter.

“I’m sad, too,” Meredith said, although sad was too weak a word to describe what was in her heart. “My little sparrow Emily isn’t little anymore.”

Instead of the little red-haired girl of her nightmares, Emily was now twenty years old with a mane of chestnut-red hair that framed her beautiful face. “I’ve missed so much—ten years…a decade…a lifetime. And what I keep wondering is what has Patsy managed to destroy in those years.”

“You’re talking about your relationship with Joe,” Dr. Wilkes said.

Meredith nodded. Joe Colton. Her husband. Memories of him were still fuzzy. Until Rand and Emily’s visit to her, she hadn’t even known his name.

What had survived through the amnesia was the memory of strong arms holding her, of a special man who had been her other half, her soul mate. He’d had no name, no face, but she’d had the memory of their love in her heart.

Dr. Wilkes leaned forward and took Meredith’s hand in hers. “I can’t allay that fear for you, Meredith. When you decide that it’s time to go home and reclaim your life from your sister, you know there will be a period of adjustment for you and your family. There will be a lot of pieces to pick up.” She released Meredith’s hand.

Meredith only hoped the pieces of her life and her family could be picked up. “There’s one other thing,” Meredith said as she nervously twisted her hands together in her lap.

“And what’s that?”

“I have a terrible sense of impending doom, of imminent danger. It’s a feeling I’ve only had once before in my life.”

“When was the last time you felt this way?” Dr. Wilkes asked, leaning forward.

Meredith drew a shaky breath. “The day I got in the car with Emily, the day we had our accident. I felt this way the morning of the day that my twin sister stole my identity and completely destroyed my life.”

Five

Chance stood by the corral, watching as a load of lumber was dumped nearby. He waved to the driver who created a cloud of dust as he drove away.

“Guess that means it’s time to get back to work,” Kirk Brighton said, rising from the bale of hay where he’d been sitting. The other three men Chance had hired the week before also got up from their various positions of rest.

They’d spent the last week cleaning out the barn, repairing any woodwork that needed repairing, then putting on a new coat of paint. Despite the pleasant September air, the work had been hot and dirty.

That morning they had torn down the corral in anticipation of putting up a new one. Although there was no longer any livestock on the Reilly ranch, Chance knew whoever bought the place would need adequate corrals and fencing for horses or cows.

Much to his surprise, Chance had enjoyed the physical labor the last week had brought. Working as a traveling salesman, the most physical thing he’d accomplished was an occasional swim in a motel pool or a quick workout in a gym facility.

For Chance, the most satisfying time of the day was those minutes after the men knocked off for the day and before Chance went inside for dinner. He’d walk in the waning sunlight, muscles burning with the sting of overuse, as he looked at the work they’d accomplished that day.

He frowned as he recognized this wasn’t exactly true. That moment in the fade of day wasn’t the most satisfying. It was in the deep velvet black of night when he reached for Lana and she came willingly into his arms that Chance felt something he’d never felt before—a surge of excitement so intense it threatened to consume him, followed by a sense of fulfillment that absolutely terrified him.

They came together each night with a fierce intensity that was in direct opposition to the careful distance they kept between them during the day.

“Hey, Chance.”

Chance shoved away thoughts of Lana and focused his attention on Charlie Trainor, the eldest of the four men he’d hired. “Yeah, Charlie?”

“When you get ready to buy a herd of cattle, I’ve got just the man for you to talk to,” he said.

Chance didn’t want to tell anyone that he had no intentions of settling on the place, that he intended to sell it as soon as it was in good order. He didn’t want to have to handle the kinds of questions people would ask if they knew he wasn’t staying.

Everyone would want to know where he and Lana were moving to and he didn’t want to have to explain that he and Lana were going nowhere together. He would go back to his wandering lifestyle, and she would return to her apartment and have a baby to raise.

“Thanks, Charlie. I’ll keep that in mind when the time comes and I’m ready to buy.”

“You talking about old man Stanton?” Kirk Brighton asked Charlie.

Charlie nodded. “That bull of Stanton’s is a fine specimen of cowhide and he’s got a herd of healthy heifers that make most other ranchers’ cows look sick.”

As the men worked on the new corral, they talked about ranching, filling Chance in on who had the better horses and where to buy the best feed. It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to other things—the bar that had the best drinks in town, favorite baseball teams and the new motor that some guy named Dirk had dropped into his old Chevy.

Chance was surprised to discover himself enjoying the male conversation. One of the negatives of always traveling was the lack of any real companionship.

Even as a young man, Chance had been reluctant to form any real or lasting friendships with other guys. Friends spent time at your house, and Chance had never wanted to expose anyone to his volatile father.

The aura of camaraderie that now surrounded him reminded him of his happy days on the Colton ranch. For that year of his life he’d felt a part of something bigger than himself. He’d been part of a community, a family.

He frowned, remembering what Maya and Lana had said about Meredith Colton. It shouldn’t surprise him. He’d always believed in his heart that good things didn’t last, that happiness wasn’t forever.

He’d had a brief period of happiness when his mother had been alive, but when she’d died, she’d taken everything good in his life with her. And Meredith Colton had turned into a mean, hateful woman. Good things didn’t last.

They’d been working on the corral for about two hours when Chance saw Lana approach from the house. Clad in a bright pink dress and with her hair streaming like a curtain of silk down her back, she carried a huge pitcher and several large paper cups.

Chance had never before noticed how sensually her hips undulated when she walked and how her silky curtain of hair swayed in tantalizing rhythm.

The press of her breasts were evident against the dress bodice and Chance’s hands itched with a sudden need to touch her.

He knew he’d awakened in her a well of passion, and he found her an intriguing and exciting bundle of shyness and boldness in bed.

A strange thrill of possession swept through him along with an unexpected pride as he watched the other ranch hands stand and eye her approach with obvious approval.

“I thought you all might like something cold to drink,” she said, that familiar shy smile lighting her features.

“That sounds mighty good, ma’am,” Clayton Croft, the youngest of the group, said as he quickly swept his hat from his head.

Chance had the feeling that if Lana had offered to serve hot beer to the young man, he’d have jumped at the opportunity to please her.

“Oh, please, I’m not a ma’am, I’m just Lana,” she said as she poured the young cowboy a tall glass of lemonade.

“Thank you, ma’am, uh, Lana.” Clayton took the cup from her, the color in his cheeks heightening as he offered her a shy smile. Clayton watched her every move with mooning eyes, and amusement filled Chance.

She poured the cold drink for the others, then started back to the house. Chance quickly fell in step with her. “That was a real thoughtful thing to do,” he said.

She smiled at him and shrugged. “It’s hot and dusty. I figured you could all use something cold to drink.”

They stopped walking at the porch. “I think you made a conquest.” Chance shot an amused glance toward Clayton.

“Don’t be silly. I didn’t do anything,” she protested with a laugh.

Chance eyed her objectively and realized there was something different about her, a subtle something that hadn’t been there on the day he’d married her.

An awareness of herself as a woman, a pride in the tilt of her head, a knowing gleam that lit her dark eyes. She was a woman who was desired…and knew it.

“How would you like to go out to dinner this evening?” he asked, suddenly wanting to go into town, let the people of Prosperino see his wife on his arm.

“Really?” she asked. “But I have a ham in the oven.”

“Take it out and put it in the refrigerator. We’ll eat it tomorrow night,” he said firmly. “We haven’t left this ranch together since our wedding day and it’s high time I take my wife out for a meal.”

She smiled up at him, her beautiful eyes lit with sparks of pleasure. “Oh, Chance, I’d like that.”

Chance looked at his watch. “It’s almost four now. I’ll knock off work about five and we’ll head out of here at six, okay?”

“I’ll be ready.” She turned and lightly ran up the steps to the door.

Chance watched until she disappeared into the house, then he walked back to the men.

“You’re one lucky man, Chance Reilly,” Charlie said. “That’s a real pretty wife you’ve got, and she comes from good stock. You won’t find better people than Inez and Marco Ramirez.”

Chance nodded and together the men got back to work. You’re a lucky man. As Chance hammered nails and carried wood, Charlie’s words played and replayed in his mind.

Yeah, he was lucky all right. He had a wife who cleaned his house, cooked him sumptuous meals, washed and ironed his clothes and met him with passion each night. And he didn’t have to pretend to love her or worry about promises of forever.

In the next couple of months he had every intention of walking away from her. He should be happy about it. He was living every single man’s dream. But, as Charlie’s words continued to echo in his head, he didn’t feel particularly happy. He felt as if he just might be more than a little bit stupid.



“It’s high time I take my wife out for a meal.”

Chance’s words swirled in Lana’s head as she changed her clothes and prepared for an evening out on the town. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of going out to dinner with Chance filled her with nervous anxiety.

It somehow made the marriage seem more real than it was, and Lana knew she couldn’t fall into the fantasy of believing this was anything but a temporary business arrangement.

Even though she knew Chance liked making love to her, that didn’t mean he loved her. She’d been a virgin, but she certainly had listened to enough girl talk to know that men were able to separate love and sex quite easily.

She frowned at her reflection, wondering if perhaps she’d overdone it with the makeup. She rarely wore it, but had wanted to look nice, to look special for their night out.

She pulled a tissue from the box and quickly swiped it over her cheeks to take off some of the blush she’d just applied. Checking her reflection, she pronounced herself ready.

The dress she’d chosen was nicer than her daily wear things. The scarlet dress hugged her figure to the waist, then flared out in a skirt that showed off her long legs. She’d used the curling iron on her hair, giving the length a touch of curl at the ends. She sprayed on a final spritz of her perfume, then left the bedroom.

As she walked down the hall, she heard Chance dressing in the bathroom. It was funny, they shared a bed every night. Three times that week he’d made love to her by candlelight, allowing her to see every inch of his body and him to view hers, yet when they dressed, he went into the bathroom and left her the privacy of the bedroom.

Once in the living room, she sat on the sofa and tried to still her nerves. It was ridiculous to be so anxious about a simple dinner out. They would eat, visit with people they knew, pretend to be happy in their marriage, then come home and return to their life for the time being.

She rubbed a hand across her abdomen, wondering if it had already happened. Had they already made a baby? Her heart thrilled at the very idea of carrying a tiny life inside her. At the same time, she hoped it didn’t happen too soon. Once she was pregnant, there would be no more reason for Chance to kiss her, to hold her, to make love to her.

“Wow!”

She looked up to see Chance standing at the end of the hallway, his gaze focused intently on her. He was dressed in a pair of charcoal-gray slacks and a striped dress shirt, but she suddenly feared she’d over-dressed. Perhaps he had meant a simple meal at the café. She stood and ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. “Too much?” she asked worriedly.

“No, not at all.” He approached her, his intense gaze sweeping over her, taking her in from head to toe. Her body warmed at every point where his gaze lingered. “It’s just that you look…you look beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, a sweet heat of pleasure. “Thank you.” She averted her gaze from his, afraid that if she continued to look into the flames in his green eyes, she’d fall right into him and they’d never make it to dinner. “Are you ready?” she asked softly.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how ready I am.”

The fire in her cheeks intensified. “I was talking about going to dinner,” she said dryly.

He swept a finger across her lower lip, the touch achingly sensual. “Okay, but after dinner, when we get back here, I intend to take you where I’m ready to go.”

As they left the house and got into his car, Lana wondered how it was possible he could make her feel so breathless, so wonderfully alive. A simple touch, a certain look in his eyes, and she was weak-kneed and dizzy with burning want.

Was it this way with all couples? Somehow, she didn’t think so. There was a strong physical attraction at work between Chance and her, but she’d be a fool to mistake it for anything more. She’d be a fool to mistake it for love.

Still, as he drove toward town, she basked in his nearness. Despite their lovemaking, they rarely spent any real time together. They shared the evening meal, but most evenings Chance was tired and withdrawn and any conversation between them was strained and uncomfortable.

She sensed something different in Chance tonight. He seemed invigorated rather than drained from the day’s work. As music from the radio filled the car, his thumbs thumped in rhythm on the steering wheel and he hummed beneath his breath.

Perhaps he was invigorated by the idea of getting off the ranch he professed to hate. Maybe it was the idea of being surrounded by people and not just in her company that had him in high spirits.

“You and the men are getting a lot accomplished in a short amount of time,” she said to break the silence between them.

He turned the radio down just a touch. “They’re a good bunch of workers. We should finish up the corral this week and then next week start on some of the pasture fencing.”

“I made a list of things you might want to think about fixing in the house,” she said. He looked at her in surprise and she smiled. “You’ve been focused in on fixing all the things that will make a man want to buy the ranch, but the real person you need to please is a buyer’s wife.”

“You think so?” he asked, obviously intrigued by the idea.

“I’m certain. With that in mind, I walked through each room this morning and pretended to be a prospective buyer looking at the place as if it was going to be my home for the next fifty years or so.” What she didn’t tell him was that it was far too easy for her to imagine living there for the next fifty years…with him.

“And what did you find?” he asked.

“The leaky faucet in the kitchen needs to be replaced. The bathroom door lock is broken. One burner on the stove doesn’t work, and there’s a dent in the Sheetrock in the spare room.” She ticked off the items one after another, and felt a sudden tension rolling off Chance. “What?” She frowned worriedly. “What did I say that’s upset you?”

He cast her a swift look of surprise. “What makes you think you’ve upset me?”

She shrugged. “I can feel it. Besides, you’re suddenly grabbing the steering wheel too tightly and your jaw is clenched.”

His fingers loosened around the wheel and he released a deep sigh. “I’ll fix the faucet and we’ll buy a new burner for the stove, but I won’t replace the Sheetrock or the bathroom door lock.”

It was her turn to look at him in surprise. “Why not?”

He frowned, his features looking hard in the glow from the dashboard lights. “I won’t clean up his messes. Faucets and burners wear out, but door locks and Sheetrock get broken through violence.”

Lana felt the pain beneath the anger in his voice. “I’m sorry, Chance.” She reached out and placed a hand on his thigh in an effort to comfort. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a father like mine, one who would support you and love you, one who never raised his voice or his fists in anger.”

He dropped a hand from the steering wheel and covered hers with it. “I always envied you your relationship with your parents. And for that year that I lived on the Colton ranch, I tried to pretend I wasn’t Chance Reilly, but instead was Chance Colton.”

“I was lucky by birth,” she said softly, warmed by the touch of his hand against hers. “You’ll just have to find happiness and be lucky in the choices you make and the direction you choose for your life.” She turned her hand over so her fingers could entwine with his. “Maybe in fixing the wall and the lock, you’ll heal some of the pain, get rid of some of the anger inside you.”

He pulled his hand away and returned it to the steering wheel. “I’ve got no pain inside me, and the anger will go away when I sell that place and spend his money for my pleasure.”

He might think he had no pain from his childhood, but Lana knew otherwise and she wondered if he was spending his life running from his pain, the end result a lifestyle of no ties and no commitments to anything and anyone.

“I didn’t mean to place a pall on things,” she finally said, then offered him a teasing smile. “After all, it isn’t every night my husband takes me out to dinner.”

“That’s right,” he agreed, returning her smile with one of his own. “But I do have a word of advice.”

“What?”

“If you don’t take your hand off my thigh, we’ll never make it through dinner. I’ll be wanting to carry you off to the nearest motel and have my way with you.” His eyes glittered with a fiery glow.

She quickly pulled her hand away, a deep blush warming her cheeks. “If you don’t stop looking at me that way, I’ll let you carry me off to the nearest motel and have your way with me.” Her blush deepened as she shocked herself with her own boldness. “And in a single week, you’ve made me utterly shameless,” she admitted.

She sobered slightly, her gaze lingering on him. “Is it wrong, Chance, for me to like sex so much? Am I…abnormal?”

He laughed and she felt the tension that had been in the air dissipate. “No, my sweet, innocent Lana. It isn’t wrong and it isn’t abnormal. We’re good together in bed. And it’s okay for you to be shameless just as long as it’s always with me.”

Always. The word teased the tip of her tongue, but she knew better than to speak it aloud. He was teasing her, but she wasn’t sure her answer would be in the same teasing tone. With every day that passed she was more confused about her feelings where Chance was concerned.

He wheeled into Medicino’s, a popular Italian restaurant. “How does Italian sound?”

“Wonderful,” she replied.

Within minutes they were seated at a table near the back of the place. The ambience in the restaurant promoted romance. Candles burned in the center of each small table and hanging plants provided an aura of privacy. The tables were set far enough apart to allow intimate conversations and the music that drifted lightly in the air was soft and slow.

They placed their orders, then Chance poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle he’d ordered. “Did I tell you that you look quite lovely tonight?”

“You mentioned it earlier,” she replied. He’d told her by the look in his eyes that he thought she looked good, but it was nice to hear the actual sentiment put into words once again.

“Then I’ll tell you again. You look beautiful.”

“You must drive those midwestern women crazy with your sweet talk and handsome looks,” she returned lightly. She’d bet he had a girlfriend in every city, a warm female in every motel bed where he slept. She was surprised by how much this idea bothered her. She’d never had a jealous bone in her body, but the thought of Chance with other women caused a slight edge of jealousy to surge up inside her.

“Ah, finally we see the newlyweds out together.”

Lana and Chance looked up to see Angie and Harmon Graves approaching their table. Angie leaned down and kissed Lana on the cheek. “Congratulations, sweetie. I’m glad to see one of our hometown girls managed to grab this scalawag.”

“Thanks, Angie,” Lana replied, and fought down a dose of guilt at their deception.

“What are you two doing here?” Chance asked.

Harmon pointed a finger at his wife. “She’s quit cooking at home, so when she gets a night off, we eat out.”

“I cook all day for other people, on my nights off I want somebody else cooking what I put in my mouth,” Angie exclaimed.

“I’ve been meaning to call you and thank you for that beautiful apple pie you sent home with Chance. I’ve always said you make the best apple pies in California and we really enjoyed it,” Lana said.

“Don’t mention it,” Angie said with a pleased smile.

“Would you two like to join us?” Chance asked.

“Heavens no. You two are practically still on your honeymoon and we wouldn’t dream of intruding,” Angie exclaimed. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said, then grabbed her husband’s arm. “Come on, Harmon, I’m starving.”

Harmon nodded goodbye in his usual laconic fashion and the two disappeared.

“Angie is a sweetheart,” Lana said the moment they had left.

Chance nodded. “She and Harmon were my lifeline on more than one occasion.”

“What do you mean?”

“When things got too tough between me and my dad and I needed an escape, I’d often go to the café and hang out there. Angie was always very sympathetic and Harmon…” Chance laughed. “Harmon never said much, but when he did speak, he usually said something important.”

Lana took a sip of her wine, then leaned forward. “Tell me about your job, Chance. Tell me about your life in the Midwest.”

It was odd really. She’d slept with him for a little over a week now, but didn’t feel as if she’d discovered all the pieces that made him who he was. Perhaps in hearing about how he spent his days, she’d learn more facets of the man.

“There isn’t a whole lot to tell. I cover a five-state area and have regular customers I sell to, but I’m also always on the lookout for new accounts.” He paused to sip his wine, then continued. “I spend a lot of time in my car, driving from one place to the next. Of course at the moment I’ve taken a leave of absence.”

“You enjoy driving?” she asked.

He frowned thoughtfully. “Not particularly.”

“But you like being in a different place every day?”

“Sure.” The frown disappeared from his face and he leaned back in his chair. “I love seeing different faces and different places. I like the fact that I set my own schedule. I eat when I get hungry, sleep when I’m tired and owe nobody any explanation for anything. As long as I’m selling farm equipment, my boss is happy and stays off my back.”

“But don’t you get lonely?” She couldn’t imagine the kind of life he had just described, rarely seeing the same people twice, waking in a different bed every morning. “It must be difficult to sustain any kind of friendships, any kind of meaningful relationships.”

His eyes took on a hardness. “I sustain the kind of relationships that suit me best—sort of like this one with you. Temporary ones.”

Again she felt as if she was being warned. Only this time, with the warning came a certain, dreadful realization. Years ago she had been able to fall out of love with Chance Reilly. But the stunning realization was that at some point in the last week, she’d fallen in love with him all over again.

Six

The discussion about his lifestyle had disturbed him. He’d thought he loved his life as a traveling salesman until she’d questioned him about it and forced him to examine it more closely.

The hours on the road, the mornings he’d awakened and not remembered what town he was in, the nights alone in a motel room all had been conducive to a loneliness he just now recognized.

And that realization had upset him and prompted him to snap at Lana and remind her that he intended to return to the life he’d lived before his father’s death.

She’d been quiet since then and Chance found himself wanting to see her laugh, needing to see her eyes sparkle with pleasure and her lips curve into the smile he found so bewitching.

“Have I told you about the summer I tried to join the circus?” he asked.

Her beautiful dark eyes looked at him in surprise. “No.”

“I was twelve and the circus had come to Prosperino.” He finished the last of his wine, then continued. “By then I already knew how tough things were going to be between my father and me, so I decided a circus life seemed very appealing. But I knew I needed a special talent in order to be allowed to join the big top.”

Lana leaned forward, the scent of her perfume reaching out to surround him as a smile of anticipation lit her features. “So, what did you do?”

“For weeks before the circus arrived here, I tried to come up with something, some gimmick. I tried juggling, but quickly learned that I wasn’t quick or dexterous enough. So, I decided I’d learn how to swing on a trapeze.”

Lana clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with laughter and Chance continued, wanting to keep the smile on her face. “I rigged up a couple of ropes and some wood in a big tree down in the pasture.”

Her big brown eyes were the color of dark chocolates. “I’m assuming you weren’t successful since you didn’t leave when the circus did.”

“The first time I swung on my homemade trapeze, the rope broke and I was thrown up in the air and landed on my back about ten feet from the tree. All the air left my body and for a moment I thought sure I was dead. When I finally was able to breathe I was too scared to try it again. So, I was a flop in my attempt to join the circus.”

The waitress appeared to take away their plates and they each ordered a cup of coffee. As they drank their coffee, their conversation remained pleasant. They spoke about their time together on the Colton ranch, speculated on what had changed Meredith Colton from a warm, generous woman to a spiteful, hateful witch.

Lana caught him up on the local gossip, telling him who had married and who had divorced. Chance enjoyed watching her as she spoke. Her expressive face reflected her thoughts and her words.

As they talked, several locals waved to Lana or greeted her with friendliness. It was easy for Chance to recognize that Lana was somebody well-liked and respected in the community.

He also found himself anticipating later that night, when they were in his bed and he could hold her warm body against his.

It was strange, he’d always thought making love to somebody new was a turn-on, that the novelty and discovery of an initial joining was the peak of excitement and repeating the experience with the same woman only became mundane.

He’d been wrong. Making love to Lana night after night had not become mundane or boring, rather his pleasure had been increased by learning and memorizing her sweet responses to his various touches. There was definitely something positive to say about familiarity.

Gazing at her, he noticed how the candlelight positively loved her, caressing her features with a golden softness and dancing like fireflies on the length of her hair.

When he’d first seen her in that dangerous red dress, he’d wanted to forget dinner, forget leaving the house and instead sweep her into the bedroom and tear the garment off her.

As they’d eaten their meal, he’d been aware of other men looking at her, coveting her with heated gazes and again he’d felt the same curious thrill of possession that he’d felt when he’d seen the young Clayton stammering and blushing.

These men could look all they wanted, but she was coming home with him. She would be in his bed, in his arms, kissing his mouth before the night was over.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked when he’d paid their bill and they’d finished their coffee.

She nodded, dabbed her lips with her napkin, then stood.

It was just after eight-thirty when they stepped out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. “You want to walk a little bit?” he asked, then grinned. “I definitely ate too much.”

In truth, the anticipation of making love to her filled him up, but his stomach felt heavy from the meal. Besides, a little walk would merely serve to further whet his appetite for her.

“Me, too. A walk sounds good,” she agreed.

They started off at a leisurely pace, and it only seemed natural that he reach out and grab her hand in his. He liked her hands. They were soft and delicately feminine. She had long fingers with short, but well-manicured nails. And he knew what those hands could do to him—stroke, caress, touch him with a heat that boiled his blood.

“This is my favorite time of the day,” he said, noting the sun was well into its descent, giving the landscape a golden glow.

“Why now?” she asked.

“I don’t know. This is about the time I take my final walk around the ranch, check the progress of our work and feel a nice sense of accomplishment over what we’ve done for the day. Dusk has always been the time I take a few minutes and reflect.”

“My moments of reflection come just before I close my eyes to go to sleep,” she explained. “I think about the day gone and the one I’ll face when I open my eyes.”

He smiled at her wryly. “I imagine since living with me, you fall asleep before you have time to reflect.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“You do so much during the days. The house is always clean, my clothes are always washed and smell wonderful, each night you cook a terrific meal. You’ve got to be exhausted when you fall into bed at night.”

Her eyes twinkled with a slightly naughty glow. “But not too exhausted for other things.”

Chance laughed, his blood heating to dangerous temperatures. “I’ve created a monster.”

It was her turn to laugh, then she sobered and her cheeks pinkened slightly. “Seriously, I had no idea it would be this way.” The blush on her cheeks intensified. “I had no idea I’d like it so much.”

“That’s because I’m an exceptionally skilled and magnificent lover,” Chance teased.

“I think you might be right,” she replied and again Chance’s inner temperature rose. “Oh, look,” she said suddenly. “It finally opened.” She pointed across the street to a shop that had a Grand Opening sign in the window. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for it to open up.”

“Then I guess we’d better go in and take a look around,” Chance said.

Her eyes shone with excitement and she clapped her hands together. “You mean it? I mean, I could always come back another time by myself.”

Chance smiled at her with amused indulgence. “You just said you’ve been waiting and waiting. I don’t want you to wait another minute. Just lead the way.”

She tugged on his hand and pulled him toward the corner where they could cross the street, as if afraid he might change his mind.

Chance figured it was some kind of a dress boutique or maybe one of those stores that sold sexy lingerie. It wasn’t until she was pulling him over the threshold that he realized exactly what kind of store it was—a baby store.

Strollers, cribs, high chairs and bassinets were prominently displayed just inside the door. Farther in the back were racks of clothing, bottles, stuffed animals, apparently everything needed to make a healthy, happy baby.

Chance wanted to back out of the door, take Lana by the hand and escape from the sweet-smelling store with its pastel-colored walls and lullaby music. But Lana was already off and running, oohing and aahing over an oak crib with a canopy.

“Oh, Chance, isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, her eyes shining with the same kind of glow they’d possessed when she had held her niece.

“You have great taste,” a saleslady said as she approached where Chance and Lana stood. She placed a hand on the crib railing. “This is one of the top of the line with extra safety features and the added highlight that it changes into a toddler bed when the little one gets too big for a crib.”

Lana smiled wistfully. “It is beautiful.” She gazed at the price tag and winced. “We’re just window shopping right now,” she explained to the sales clerk.

“Please, feel free to wander around the store.” She winked at Lana. “And if you fill out a card to get on our mailing list, we’ll give you a free gift.” She smiled with genuine friendliness. “The gift isn’t so great, but the flyers will let you know when we’re running special sales, and you never know when this crib might go on special.”

“Thanks, I’ll fill out a card,” Lana said.

“I’ll just leave you two to wander.” The woman drifted away to greet another couple entering the shop.

Reluctantly Chance followed behind Lana as she went up and down the aisles, lingering over itty-bitty sleepers, soft receiving blankets and amusing tiny T-shirts. He couldn’t help but grin as she held up a pair of the smallest cowboy boots he’d ever seen.

Still, as he watched her running her fingers over the soft blankets, it was easy to imagine her with a baby in her arms.

She would be an excellent mother, strong enough to raise a child with patience and love. Her child would be one of the lucky ones—desperately wanted and loved. Her little boy or girl would never know the sting of demeaning words, would never know the pain of a backhand or fist in the face.

My child.

The words suddenly shouted in his head. The baby she would carry would not just be hers but his as well. Half of his DNA would be carried by the baby Lana eventually had.

Although on some level, he’d known this, he hadn’t truly thought about it until this very moment. Genetically, he would always be bound to her child. What would she tell her child about its father? That the child had been created so Daddy could get his ranch and leave forever? He suddenly needed to know how she was going to handle telling a little boy or a little girl about him.

“Lana?”

“Hmm,” she said absently, her attention focused on a night-light that also played music.

“What are you going to tell the baby about me?”

That got her undivided attention. She looked at him in surprise. “I’m not sure…I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Sooner or later a baby grows up and has questions that need to be answered.” Chance frowned. “Are you going to tell him or her about our bargain?”

Lana mirrored his frown thoughtfully. “No,” she finally said decisively. “I’ll just say that we married, it didn’t work out and we divorced. In this day and age, divorce is so common.”

“And what if he asks why I’m not a part of his life?”

Her frown deepened. “I don’t know, Chance. I can’t tell you right now exactly what I’m going to say. But, whatever I say, it will be in the best interest of the child.”

Chance nodded, satisfied with her answer for the moment.

He was relieved when she finally started for the door, stopping only at the counter to fill out a card to be placed on the mailing list. He watched over her shoulder as she filled it out, somehow disquieted when he saw her write the address to her apartment rather than the ranch.

“You could have written down the ranch address,” he said to her as they left the shop and headed back to his car.

She shrugged. “There’s really no point. I check my mail at my apartment every week or so, and we’ll be divorced and you’ll be gone from Prosperino long before the baby is born.”

Although he knew she was right, and it had been what he’d been reminding her of from the moment they’d gotten married, he couldn’t understand why her cool, unemotional recitation of the facts somehow depressed him.



“So, how does it feel to be celebrating your one-month anniversary?” Maya asked her sister. “Do you and Chance have anything special planned for the night?”

“No, nothing.” Lana speared a tomato from her salad, but instead of eating it, set her fork down across the side of her plate. “Maya, I have a confession to make.”

The two were seated in Chance’s kitchen. Rain had cancelled any work for the day and Chance had driven into town to order more supplies and eat lunch with an old friend from high school. He’d told her he’d be home in time for dinner.

Lana had taken the opportunity to invite her sister over for lunch with the express purpose of confessing the real reasons behind her marriage to Chance.

“A confession? Hmm, sounds intriguing.” Maya shot a glance at her daughter, sleeping soundly in an infant carrier on the floor, then gazed once again at her sister.

Lana took a deep breath, dreading telling her sister the truth, yet unable to continue the charade. “My marriage to Chance isn’t real.”

Maya frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, it isn’t real? You didn’t really get married by a justice of the peace?” A grin curved the corners of her lips and her eyes widened. “Are you telling me that my proper, straitlaced older sister is living in sin with a man?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Lana hurriedly protested. “We really got married, but we have no intention of staying married.”

“What?” Maya leaned forward, any hint of a smile gone.

Lana stared down at her salad and prepared herself for her sister’s reaction to what she was about to say. “It was a business arrangement. Chance couldn’t inherit this place unless he was married. His father had it written in his will that way.” She glanced back up to see Maya staring at her in shock.

“You married Chance so he could inherit the ranch?” Her voice held a note of incredulity. “And what do you get out of this—this business arrangement?”

“A baby.”

Maya gasped. “Oh, Lana, what have you done?” She reached across the table and grabbed her sister’s hand in hers.

Lana raised her chin defensively. “I’ve done exactly what I wanted to do. More than anything in this world, I want a baby, and you know, Maya, there’s never been a man in my life…at least nobody special. This seemed like the perfect way for both Chance and myself to get what we want. Once I get pregnant, Chance is going to sell this place and go back to the Midwest, and I’ll return to my apartment in town and raise my child.”

Maya released Lana’s hand, a troubled frown on her pretty face. “I don’t believe this. I’ve seen you with Chance, I’ve seen the way you look at him. Lana, when he leaves here, he’s going to leave you pregnant and brokenhearted.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lana scoffed with a forced lightness.

“But you loved him when you were young.”

“For heaven’s sake, Maya, that was nothing but puppy love,” Lana replied. “I had my eyes wide-open when I went into this agreement. Chance isn’t making any false promises to me and I expect absolutely nothing from him except a pregnancy.”

Lana picked up her fork once again and ate the piece of tomato, aware of her sister’s gaze lingering on her. There was no way on earth Lana would continue her confession by admitting that she was again, still, hopelessly in love with Chance.

Her pride would not allow her to tell her sister that it was already too late for her to guard her heart against Chance. He’d already taken possession of it, invaded every one of her senses and indelibly marked her soul.

Still aware of Maya’s gaze on her, Lana looked at her sister once again. “Please, no lectures. I already got one from Mama when I explained to her what I was going to do—although I just told her that I was marrying Chance so he could get his ranch. I didn’t mention the baby part to her.”

Maya finally smiled. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother,” she said.

Lana smiled gratefully. The rest of their lunch conversation was light and easy, and by one-thirty, Maya was gone, leaving Lana alone in the house.

In the month she’d been here, the place had begun to feel like home. Her apartment had always felt like a holding area, a temporary place to keep her things until she began her real life.

However, she knew the dangers of thinking of this house as a home. Eventually, probably in the next month or two, she’d be back in her apartment, and these days and weeks with Chance would only be a memory to make her happy—and make her sad.

As she cleaned up the lunch dishes, rain pelted the windows and the kitchen grew grayer and more gloomy. She put on a pot roast, then got a book from her room and curled up on the sofa.

The rain pitter-pattering against the windowpanes made her feel snug and safe and warm. She’d only been reading for about an hour when Chance came through the front door.

“Whew!” he exclaimed, shaking off the rain that clung to him. “It’s a regular toad-strangler out there.”

Lana sat up and placed her book on the coffee table. “But it sounds nice against the roof and the windows.”

Chance shed his wet windbreaker and hung it on the hall tree, then paced the area in front of the sofa. “The weather forecasters all say it’s supposed to move out in a couple of hours. There’s nothing I can do for the time being except wait it out.”

“It’s a nice afternoon to curl up with a good book,” she said. “Rainy days are wonderful reading days.”

“I don’t want to read,” he replied. His hair was wet against his scalp and emphasized the strength of his handsome features. His T-shirt was also damp, pulling across the broadness of his shoulders, and Lana’s fingers tingled as she remembered how those shoulders felt when bared to her touch.

“Maybe you could find a good show on television,” Lana said, her mouth suddenly dry as she saw the familiar look in his eyes.

“I’m not much of a TV buff,” he said, then sat on the sofa next to her. “You know what I think?” He reached out to twirl a strand of her hair between two fingers.

“What?” she asked. His sinfully long dark eyelashes were spiky with dampness and his eyes beckoned her to fall into their green mist.

“I think it’s a nice day to curl up with a good husband.”

She felt his touch as if it were an electrical impulse shooting from the ends of her hair to her head, then down to the pit of her stomach.

“I can always read later,” she murmured, her voice holding the breathless quality it always had when he touched her, when he gazed at her with want in his eyes.

“Good, because I don’t want to wait until later to do this.” He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his.



“How about one last cup of coffee before I head home?” Samuel Wallons, one of Red River’s eldest citizens gestured to the cup before him.

“You got it,” Emily replied with a friendly smile. She liked Samuel, who came in most afternoons and passed the time by telling tales of years gone by.

She poured him a fresh cup of coffee, then looked at her wristwatch. Ten more minutes and she could go home. Although it was just a little after three in the afternoon, she was ready to call it a day.

Too little sleep, too many dreams the night before and an unusually busy lunch rush had left her exhausted. Her feet were killing her, her back ached, and all she wanted now was to go back to her quiet little cottage and take a long, refreshing nap.

“Emma?” The name rode above the din of the café and it took a moment for Emily to remember that was the name she’d been using.

Emma Logan. A fake name for a woman in hiding.

She looked around to see who was calling her. “Telephone.” One of the busboys gestured to the kitchen where the phone was located.

Telephone? She frowned. Who would be calling her here? She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the receiver.

“Hello?” she said and pressed the phone closer against her ear in an effort to hear over the kitchen din.

“Hello?” she repeated.

Silence.

Not the silence of a dead phone, but rather the screaming silence of somebody listening, but not speaking. “Is somebody there?” she asked, although she knew somebody was…she could sense their presence, hear them breathing. “Please…who is this?” She hesitated a moment. “Toby? Is that you?”

There was an audible click, and Emily knew she was alone on the line. Had Toby finally convinced Wyatt to tell him where she was? Where she was working?

“Oh, Toby,” she breathed softly, knowing she was going to have to go back to Keyhole, she was going to have to go back to let Toby know he needed to let her go.

Seven

Chance wondered when the time would come when he’d finally have had enough of her, when her hot kisses and silky skin no longer sent shooting flames of desire through him.

He didn’t wonder if the time would come, only when. For there was one thing Chance was certain of: nothing good ever lasted. But, at the moment, none of these thoughts were important. His head was filled with Lana.

She returned his kiss with the same kind of fevered response that swept through him. Her mouth was sweet as honey, and he drank deeply of her, as if she alone offered him the nectar of life.

He allowed the kiss to linger for long minutes, then swept her up into his arms and carried her from the living room and into their bedroom.

With one hand he yanked down the bedspread, then placed her on the bed, as always thrilling at the sight of her long dark hair, and her chestnut skin against the white of the sheets.

Her dark eyes glittered and her lips were slightly parted, as if anticipating his next kiss. Blood rushed to his head, thick and hot, making any thought impossible.

It took him less than ten seconds to get out of his clothes and join her on the bed, where he once again claimed her mouth with his as his fingers moved to the buttons that ran down the front of her dress.

With each inch of her flesh that was revealed by the unfastening of the buttons, Chance’s desire for her inched higher and higher. As she raised her hips to help him remove the dress and her lacy panties, he thought he might shatter with the wanting of her.

She was fire against him, and with the gentle patter of the rain on the roof as background music, Chance made love to her slowly.

He caressed her as if he had all the minutes of the day, all the hours of a year, until she was breathless and gasping and clutching him in sweet surrender.

Always before, when they were finished, they rolled apart, as if needing physical distance to maintain emotional distance. This time Chance didn’t want to let her go.

Instead of allowing her to move away from him, he pulled her against him and held her, her breath warming the side of his neck as one of his hands stroked the smooth skin of her lower back.

She fit neatly against him, one leg thrown over his, her soft breasts pressed against his ribs. Her long, silky hair was a spill across his chest and he thought he’d never felt anything quite so sensual before.

He was grateful that she didn’t talk. He didn’t want to speak, he merely wanted to bask in her warmth and listen to the rain softly beating on the windows.

She cuddled closer against him, her heart marking time with his and in the steady, reassuring beat, Chance felt a contentment he’d never known before.

It wasn’t just about the fact that they had incredibly good sex together. Chance had enjoyed good sex before with other women. But, with those other women, the moment the sex was finished, the act was complete.

He’d hold the woman he’d just made love to if he felt she needed it, but for him that afterglow, the lingering in an embrace, had never been necessary.

Now it felt necessary. As essential as breathing, as vital as eating or drinking. This emotion he felt, this strange serenity was something he’d never experienced before and something he’d never dreamed possible.

He didn’t try to analyze it, he merely closed his eyes and reveled in it. Her fingers stroked the hair on his chest, the rhythmic light touching drawing him deeper and deeper into relaxation.

The dream came almost immediately. He knew it was a dream because his father sat on the front porch, and Chance knew someplace in the back of his mind, outside of the dream, that his father was dead and buried in the cemetery that could just barely be seen from the porch.

“What are you doing, boy? Playing house?” Tom “Sarge” Reilly laughed, his brilliant green eyes glittering with the hard light that always made Chance’s stomach feel slightly sick. “Are you pretending you’re man enough to be a rancher, a husband?”

“I don’t want to be a rancher,” Chance replied evenly. “I don’t want anything to do with this place. Besides, I don’t have to listen to you. You are dead, Dad. Dead and buried.”

Sarge laughed again. “I might be dead on earth, but I’m still alive inside you. I’m in your blood, boy. In your thoughts and in your soul. And I’m not a bit surprised that you don’t want to be a rancher.”

Sarge leaned back in the chair and swiped a hand through his dark crew cut. “Ranching takes lots of work. Backbreaking work. You’re soft, boy, too soft. I always told your ma when she was alive that she was making a damn whimpering sissy out of you.”

“I’m no sissy,” Chance exclaimed.

“It takes a special kind of man to be a rancher. You’d never make it.”

“Hard work doesn’t scare me,” Chance protested.

Sarge laughed, the sarcastic, biting sound symbolic of Chance’s childhood. “Hard work doesn’t scare you because you run from it. Always have, always will. Anything worth having is worth working for, but you’ll never have anything because you’re lazy and useless and good for nothing.”

The words cut deeper than any slap in the face, any punch in the gut. “That’s not true.” Chance’s heart pained with the weight of those familiar words.

Sarge laughed again. “Sure it is. You even married a woman who doesn’t want you. She just wants your sperm. As soon as she’s done with you, she’ll throw you away. Because you aren’t a keeper, boy. You’re worthless.”

“I am not. I am not.” Chance jumped out of his chair and moved toward his father, whose laughter was so loud it hurt his ears. “I am not!” he yelled, trying to be heard over that damnable laughter.

“Chance…Chance…”

He came awake with a start, gratefully aware that Lana had shaken him out of his painful dreamscape and back to reality.

He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, orienting himself to the here and now. He drew another breath in an attempt to shove aside the residual pain the dream had wrought. “I’m all right,” he said to Lana, who eyed him worriedly in the semidarkness of the room.

She reached up and gently shoved a strand of his hair from his forehead. “Are you sure? You were yelling. It must have been some nightmare.”

The tenderness of her touch winged right through him, warming him after the coldness of the dream. “Yeah…a nightmare.” The torment of the dream still raced through him and he wondered if he’d ever be able to exorcise his father from his head.

Her dark eyes shone with empathy as her hand moved from his forehead to his shoulder, lingering with a welcomed warmth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Did he want to talk about it? He thought not. Somehow he felt that to talk about it out loud might give it more power. “No. It was just a dumb dream.”

He sat up and raked a hand through his hair, trying to forget the familiar hurtful words his father had used in the dream and wondering why those sentiments, spoken so often, had never lost their power over him.

The rain had apparently moved off and pale early evening light whispered through the curtains. “What time is it?” he asked.

Lana sat up next to him, seemingly unselfconscious despite the bareness of her breasts. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “Just after six. You must be starving.”

“I am hungry,” he agreed.

“Give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll have supper on the table.” She left the bed and padded naked across the room to where he’d thrown her dress and underclothes while in the throes of passion.

At some point in the last month, she had become comfortable with him and her own nudity. They no longer dressed in separate rooms and Chance recognized they had reached a deeper level of intimacy and trust.

He watched her, enjoying the sight of her nakedness. He liked the upward thrust of her small breasts, the tapered waist and shapely buttocks. Her legs were long and muscled just enough to add attractive shapeliness.

After she dressed and left the bedroom, Chance lay back once again, this time his head filling with a picture of a pregnant, naked Lana.

Her breasts would get larger and her nipples would darken. The slender waistline would disappear as the months of her pregnancy advanced. He knew with certainty she would be beautiful carrying a baby. His baby. And he wouldn’t be around to see it.

Again the words his father had laughed in the dream came back to haunt him. Worthless. Not a keeper. Even if she had made any indication that she wanted this marriage to last, that she wanted him to be a part of her life, she was better off without him.

He didn’t want to risk finding out that his father was right, that he was worthless, that he couldn’t make a woman happy forever, that he would never have the skills to parent.

And in any case, Lana hadn’t made any indication of wanting him to stick around. She’d had a childhood crush on him, but that didn’t translate into the mature kind of love that bound two people for life.

Out of sorts, and irritated with his thoughts, Chance left the bedroom for a shower. The nightmare had unsettled him, as had his own thoughts.

Minutes later, he walked into the kitchen to see Lana finishing up the last touches to the table. “Perfect timing,” she said, a smile lighting her features.

“As usual, everything looks great,” he said as he took his seat. “You always make all the food look so attractive.” It was true. A sprig of parsley decorated the top of the mashed potatoes, and pineapple spears rested on a bed of lettuce, adding a touch of color to the table.

Lana sat across from him. “My mother always says pretty food tastes better.”

“I’m not sure about that,” he replied. The truth was, it was the little extra efforts she made, not only with each meal, but around the house as well, that somehow filled up a hole in Chance.

After they’d eaten, he helped her with the dinner dishes, then they took a cup of coffee and sat on the two chairs on the front porch.

“Hmm, I love the smell of the air after a rain,” she said.

Chance drew a deep breath, filling his lungs with the odor of damp earth, late-blooming flowers and the faint scent of Lana’s perfume. “Yeah, it does smell nice, doesn’t it?” He sipped his coffee, and gazed at her.

She looked lovely with her dark hair slightly tousled from their nap and her gaze off in the distance, as if she were contemplating the years to come. She looked as if she belonged sitting on this porch.

She turned and looked at him, as if she’d felt his gaze lingering on her. For the first time since she’d approached him with her crazy idea of the two of them getting married, he wondered what her plans were for after he left.

“Do you intend to work after you get pregnant?” he asked.

“Eventually, but probably not for the first year or so after the birth.”

“Financially, how are you going to do it? I mean, I know you aren’t independently wealthy, Lana.”

She laughed. “Not even close. I live fairly frugally, and I have enough money set aside to allow me to take some time off and not worry about working.” Her eyes gleamed with a softness. “It’s important to me to spend at least the first year being a full-time mommy.”

He thought of how she’d tried to comfort him after his nightmare, the loving expression that had lit her face when she’d stroked the wood of the canopied crib in the store. “You’re going to make a wonderful mother,” he said.

Her eyes lit and her cheeks pinkened. As always he found her easy blush charming. “Thank you,” she said simply. “I certainly hope so. If I can be half the mother to my child that my mother was to me, I’ll be satisfied.” She took a sip of her coffee, then eyed him curiously. “Tell me about your mother. You’ve never really talked about her before.”

Chance’s first impulse was to refuse. What few memories he had of his mother he’d never shared with anyone. Not even years ago, when he and Lana had been confidantes, had Chance discussed his mother.

But now his mind opened to those memories. Sweet, warm memories. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I remember she loved to sing. I’d wake up in the morning to the sound of her singing and the scent of bacon frying. And for just that moment, I’d feel safe and secure.”

“Did she have a nice voice?”

A bubble of laughter escaped him. “Not really. She was slightly tone-deaf, but that didn’t stop her. She didn’t care who heard her. When she felt like singing, she sang.” His laughter faded and he grew serious.

“What I remember most about her is that she was my champion, my defender against my father.”

“What do you mean?” Lana leaned forward slightly, her attention solely focused on him.

That was one of the things he’d liked about her even when she was a young girl. She had the ability to focus in on a person and make them feel as if what they were saying was important to her.

“I remember one time in particular. I was about seven, and my father decided it was time he take me hunting. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t have the stomach for shooting anything. Dad threw a fit, screaming and yelling at me, and my mother told him to leave me alone. And to my surprise, Dad did leave me alone.”

The memory of his mother’s arms around him after his father had stomped off, angrily branding him a “sissy,” now sent a rivulet of warmth and love through him.

Lana leaned over and took his hand in hers. Her delicate fingers entwined with his and her eyes were soft and dewy, filled with compassion. “I’m sorry, Chance. I’m sorry she had to leave you. I know you must have missed her terribly.”

He nodded, emotion too thick in his throat to allow him to speak. Yes, he’d missed his mother. He’d missed her off-key singing and her soft touches, he’d missed her protection and her laughter. And there were still days when the pain of her loss filled him.

But at the moment the pain felt real and immediate as he realized he would miss all of this when he left here. He’d miss sitting on the porch and watching the sunset. He’d miss the smell of the ranch and the burn of muscles from work.

He wouldn’t be around to hear the sound of cattle lowing from the pasture and the snort of horses in the corral. He’d miss walking the ranch at twilight and reflecting on a day well spent.

And, for the first time, he admitted to himself another truth. He would miss Lana.



Lana remained in bed, waiting for a wave of nausea to pass. For the past three mornings she’d awakened with a rolling tummy and the knowledge that if she moved too quickly, she’d be sick.

The first morning she’d assumed she’d caught a touch of a flu bug that had been making the rounds in the community. Yesterday morning she’d decided that perhaps the barbecue they’d eaten the night before had been too rich. This morning her heart pounded with the unsteady rhythm of uncertainty.

Was it possible? Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t had a period since before their wedding. That knowledge, coupled with the early-morning queasiness made her wonder if perhaps she might be pregnant.

She touched her tummy, a curious mixture of excitement and just a tad of dread coursing through her. She was excited because it was possible she was finally going to achieve her dream of being a mother, but the dread came from knowing that if she was pregnant it would be the end of her marriage to Chance.

For six weeks she had been Chance’s wife. September had gone and October had brought slightly cooler nights and a deepening love in her for the man who was her temporary husband.

When she told him she was pregnant, their bargain would be fulfilled and their lives together would be over. There would be no more reason for them to kiss, to touch, to make love.

Chance had almost finished the work on the outside of the ranch and had told her the previous day that before the week was over he’d be fixing the odds and ends in the house to get it ready for sale.

It was coming to an end, and even though she knew the right thing to do was to tell Chance immediately that she thought he’d fulfilled his end of the deal, she hugged the knowledge of her condition tightly inside and decided to wait a few days.

She knew why she wanted to wait. She wasn’t ready to leave the marriage. She wasn’t ready to leave him. She was praying for a miracle. She was praying he’d fall in love with her, realize he couldn’t live without her. She was praying their marriage would become a real one, with a future of “until death do us part.”

And she knew she was being a total fool in hoping something might change between them. Aware that the nausea had passed somewhat, she decided to get out of bed.

Moments later as she stood beneath a warm shower, she once again touched her stomach, wondering if already Chance’s baby was inside her.

Chance’s baby. When she’d first contemplated getting pregnant, she’d never considered a father. In all of her thoughts, it was always her baby.

But now she couldn’t separate the man from the baby. It was and always would be Chance’s baby, Chance’s child. It was possible the baby would have his green eyes and square-shaped face. It was possible the baby would be a spitting image of Chance. And he wanted no part of it.

She finished her shower, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. She was surprised to see Chance there, the top half of his body inside the cabinet beneath the sink.

“Good morning,” she said.

He jumped and banged his head on a pipe. “Ouch! Good morning.”

Lana stifled a giggle and leaned down. “Sorry if I startled you.”

He flashed the white of his teeth in a grin. “It’s all right, you just gave me a concussion, but I’ll be fine once the whirling stars go away.”

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought I’d fix the faucet, but when I got down here I found a leak, so I’m working on that first.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, help me out of here so I can have a cup of coffee before I finish this.”

Lana grabbed his hand and giggled as he once again banged his head before finally crawling out from beneath the sink. She helped pull him to his feet and laughed again as she reached up and finger-combed his messy hair. “You look like you’ve been working hard, Mr. Reilly.”

He grinned at her. “And you look like a lazy woman who slept late, Mrs. Reilly,” he returned.

“Guilty as charged,” she replied, her heart thrilling at the light, teasing glint in his eyes. So often his eyes were stormy seas of intense emotions and she knew he was thinking of his father. But at the moment all was calm and his eyes were the sweet green of spring.

“You want coffee?” he asked as he stepped away from her and went to the counter that held the coffeemaker.

“I don’t think so.” The very thought of drinking a cup made her stomach roll in protest. “But I’ll sit with you while you drink yours.” She sat at the table and watched him get his cup.

She wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t thrill to the sight of him. As always, his tight, worn jeans perfectly formed to the length of his legs and slender hips. His T-shirt pulled taut against the width of his shoulders and hugged his flat abdomen tightly.

On the trips they’d taken into town in the past six weeks, she hadn’t missed the admiring glances of the women around him. Waitresses simpered, store clerks giggled and even older women’s gazes lingered on him.

Not for the first time, she wondered if he’d left a special someone back in the Midwest. Was there a woman in one of those small towns he traveled through eagerly waiting his return? When he made love to Lana so sweetly, so tenderly, was he thinking of another woman? A woman he’d left behind in order to claim this ranch?

As he joined her at the table, she drew a deep breath and decided the only way to find out was to ask. “Chance? Was there somebody special you were seeing in one of those little towns in Kansas?”

“Somebody special?” He shook his head. “No, nobody. Why do you ask?”

She wanted to tell him she’d asked because she loved him, loved him with all her heart and soul. She desperately wanted to tell him that she wanted their marriage to be real, to last forever, and if he wanted to sell this place and go back to the midwest, she’d go with him. She’d go wherever he wanted, if he would just love her.

She needed to know if the reason he wasn’t sticking around here was because he was already in love with somebody and he was just marking time here until he could return to that special someone. But she didn’t say any of this. “Just curious,” she finally replied, although she had no idea what she hoped to gain with the information.

She only knew now her competition for a lifetime with Chance wasn’t another woman. Her obstacle to spending her future with him appeared to be nothing more than Chance himself. And she didn’t know what to do about that—except to continue to love him for the time they had together.