Pregnant In Prosperino (6 page)

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 fam
ily. 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.”

C
hance 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.