Her shoulder started throbbing again, but she ignored it.
“Ana, I know—”
“You don’t know,” she bit off, sending him a furious look. “And you don’t get to decide. I am not going back to the States, and that is that,” she said definitively, sitting back in her chair.
Chance raised an eyebrow, staring at her. “I have my orders, and so do you. The company execs said that in the case of a direct threat, you were to—”
“They don’t run my life and neither do you,” Ana insisted and pushed herself up to standing. She swayed slightly, swatting away helpful hands that tried to steady her.
“Ana, be reasonable,” Chance tried, but she only glared at him and stalked to the window, staring out.
“You should listen to Chance, Ana. He only wants you to be safe,” her mother said sternly, making Ana spin around, looking at her mother in disbelief.
“It does make sense,” Lucia chimed in, and Ana’s eyes went wide.
“Are you all trying to get rid of me? Why are you taking his side?” Ana nearly wailed, becoming undone by the pain in her shoulder, the stress of her day and sheer exhaustion. This was when she needed to be around her family the most, and they were all trying to send her away!
Lucia crossed the room, squeezing her in a hug, and Ana let her, hugging her back and wiping away tears. She hated being so emotional, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She’d come here to relax, to get away from everything and to be with her family. But it seemed as if trouble followed her no matter what.
“We’re sorry, Ana. We are not taking sides, just trying to do what will keep you safe. You scared us, you know,” her sister said, framing Ana’s face in her hands.
“But it’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow,” Ana said and shook her head. “I will be safe if I stay here. No one will come into the village, to our home, especially during the holiday. I can go back afterward, but I want to spend the holiday with you all, so much. Please,” Ana said, but she was looking over Lucia’s shoulder to Chance.
She knew he had her best interests at heart, but she was not leaving. The studio could sue her, and he could leave if he wanted, but she was staying at least through the New Year. She wasn’t about to let a bunch of thugs chase her away.
“I suppose it would work,” Chance said. “If you stay here. If you go out, I go with you, even if it’s just to the store.”
Ana nodded.
“Marco will be here, as well as Lucia, and all of our family around for the holiday,” Doncia said, looking happier, as well. “Our people take care of their own. We will know if anyone comes around who should not be here. And Ana has taken care of all of us for so long. It is time she let us take care of her,” her mother said, nodding resolutely, but her eyes were warm in a way that made Ana’s sting with happy tears again.
“Marco, you are staying? Doesn’t your family want you home for the holiday?” Ana asked, not wanting to sound ungracious but also not wanting to deal with any more awkwardness, of people assuming they were engaged, et cetera, if Marco was staying in her family home.
Her mother smiled broadly. “Marco is our family, or will be,” she said mysteriously.
Ana frowned. “I don’t understand—”
Lucia strode to Marco’s side, took his hand. “Marco and I are engaged. I know it’s sudden, but he’s fulfilling his family’s promise, Ana. He and I have been in love since we were young. There just has not been any chance, and now, well, there is,” she said nervously as they waited for Ana’s reaction.
Ana blinked. She was surprised—but also relieved.
“Lucia...Marco, that’s wonderful! But why have you waited so long? You shouldn’t have let that old arrangement keep you apart when you wanted to be together! I would have happily released you from your promise years ago, Marco,” she said, coming forward to embrace them both. “I’m so happy for you,” she said, and she meant it.
Lucia looked as if she were glowing, and Ana wondered why she had never seen it before. Now that she knew, she remembered how Lucia and Marco had been when they were younger, always standing together, always talking, always smiling. Marco looked happier, too. But there was still something strained about him, something quiet, that Ana couldn’t put her finger on.
“Why did Papa promise me to Marco, when Lucia loved him?”
“He had no idea,” Doncia said with a shrug. “And I am sure he would approve of how things have developed. Both of his girls doing so well in life and finding such wonderful men.”
Ana met her mother’s eyes and then Chance’s, but there was no time to deal with that comment as Doncia winked at them both and stood up, clapping her hands together lightly.
“And so we have a party to prepare for tomorrow! So much work to do. Ana, you should go clean up and rest. We will get started.”
“I’m fine, Mama. The medicine is wearing off, though I do need a shower. I will stick with taking aspirin. The scratch is not too bad, and those painkillers are too strong. I want to enjoy every minute of being here.”
“As we do with you, Ana. Now, go wash up, and I will begin preparing the kitchen so that we can all make tamales!” her mother said joyously.
“We should go, too. Mama had asked us to pick up supplies earlier, but then you came back. We should do that now,” Lucia said, but the look she sent Marco made Ana smile. Her sister had more in mind than buying party supplies. She clearly wanted to get Marco alone, and the way they looked at each other made Ana’s heart swell.
“So we’re all making tamales?” Chance interrupted, making Ana and Lucia laugh.
“Oh, Chance, you have no idea, but you will,” Lucia said as they left.
“Wow, that was an unexpected twist, those two getting together. Hard to imagine that they waited all of those years.”
“Well, things happen when they are supposed to sometimes, I guess,” Ana said with a sigh.
Chance was watching her closely. Very closely. A tiny shiver worked over her spine. She couldn’t help but focus on him with a sense of anticipation.
It was the New Year, and she would be spending it here, at home, with her family—and Chance. Sometimes, Ana thought, things worked out exactly as they were supposed to.
* * *
LUCIA SMILED, FEELING PURE happiness for the first time in her life. She ran her hands over Marco’s broad chest, burying her face in his neck as she pinned him to the truck seat. He was hard and thick inside of her, filling her, and she moved, making him groan. His hands slipped through her hair to bring her mouth back for a kiss.
“The store will be closed by the time we get there, querida,” he said lightly, laughing and then catching his breath as she rotated her hips in a way that she had quickly learned made him crazy.
“I know the owner, and if I promise to have sex with him, he’ll let me in after hours,” she said, nipping at Marco’s ear and dragging his hands to her breasts.
They’d pulled off the road to a quiet spot where no one would see them. Lucia had given Marco little choice in the matter, going down on him as he drove. She’d always fantasized about doing that.
Her muscles clenched around him as he took a hard nipple into his mouth and she watched, her shirt pushed up, her skirt up around her thighs. She moved over him. So wanton, so incredibly hot, she thought, a rolling climax thrumming through her, making her clench him tightly inside as she held his mouth to her breast.
“Oh, Marco, so good,” she breathed, knowing he was close as he broke away, his head falling back. His eyes veiled as he watched her cover herself with her own hands and increased their tempo.
“So big, so hard inside me. I want you to come, mio,” she said, her voice shaking as she started to crest again, as well.
They’d made love on the beach that morning, when he’d told her everything, and stayed there, having each other over and over again until they’d had to leave.
Lucia wanted everything with this man. She would take every drop of pleasure she could from him, ev
ery second they could steal before this was over.
But maybe...it would not be over. Not forever.
She watched his face contort in pleasure as he lifted off the seat, pressing up into her as he chanted her name through his release. He filled her, and she rode out one more climax, falling against him, panting, spent.
For the moment. There would be more. As much more as she could have. She was unapologetically greedy. He had to leave her when this was done, when Ana was gone. She accepted that. They would be back together again someday—of that she was sure.
He kissed her deeply, lovingly, his lips firm and soft, his tongue rubbing lazily over hers. He pulled back and looked up into her face.
He was so handsome. So brave.
“I love you, Lucia. You should never doubt,” he said. “I’ve always loved you.”
“I’ve always loved you, too, Marco. I wondered if Ana was right, if we shouldn’t have just come together sooner, but it seemed so impossible.”
His eyes became more shuttered, and she felt him pull away from her, physically and emotionally.
“I wish I could offer you more, cara. But I cannot. Not now. And I don’t expect you to wait again.”
Lucia lifted from him, missing the heat and the fullness of him in an almost painful way. Straightening her clothes, she stared at him from the other side of the cab.
“I will wait. When you can come to me, I will be there. I don’t want anyone else, Marco.”
“You are too beautiful, Lucia. Too vibrant, too perfect to waste away alone, waiting for me.”
A small smile played on her lips. “I may not be alone.”
He frowned. “Well, yes, you will have your family, I know, and your work, but I meant that you deserve your own family. A husband. Children,” he said, and she didn’t miss the pain in his eyes as he said the words.
“I know what you meant, Marco. We are on the same page, as they say,” she said somewhat vaguely but felt an excited stirring inside her. It could already have happened.
“Lucia, what are you—” He stopped, seeming confused, and then his face went blank. “We... I assumed you had, since you told me not to use anything last night...”
Lucia knew she should have told him she wasn’t on any birth control. Why should she be? Her few lovers over the years had taken care of that, and keeping up a prescription wasn’t exactly easy when she was traveling all over Central America. Besides, she knew, the minute he had come to her the night before, what she wanted. It was all she’d ever wanted.
“I love you, Marco. I know you have to leave, but I want this. I want this so much I can’t even tell you,” she whispered, shifting in her seat to appeal to him.
Shock was evident on his face, and he stared out the window for long moments, then faced her.
“You knew you could get pregnant?”
“I hope I already am. And if not, I hope we’ll keep trying, for at least as long as you’re here,” she said, smiling.
His chest seemed to broaden even more with deep breaths, and his eyes were dark.
“How could you do this, Lucia? To conceive a child when the father cannot be here to raise it? How will this look to our families and our friends? I cannot quit the work I’m doing now, but I cannot leave you here if you are carrying my child. Was this the plan? A trap? A way to keep me here, even though I told you I must go?”
She drew back, hurt as if he had slapped her. “No! Marco, no. I have actually been thinking about this for some time, that I would adopt or find a way to have children on my own. I didn’t want any other man, and then, there you were, in my room last night. And it was everything I wanted—almost. I know you can’t stay, but I can wear your ring, and we can let our engagement stand, and even if there is a child, we’ll wait for you, for when you can come back and be with us.”
He shook his head. “And I will miss it all? Miss raising my own son or daughter? Have them know, so young, that I wasn’t there? That is the kind of father you would make of me? Unnecessary? You should have found some sperm in a catalog and have done with it, Lucia,” he said unkindly and started the truck, backing out of the spot too fast, hitting a bump that jostled them both hard.
“I—I’m sorry. I will take you to the store and then home. Make what excuses you must, but I will not be able to be with you again. I will leave tomorrow.”
“Marco, no,” she pleaded, her heart breaking, her eyes dumping heavy, hot tears. “Please, can’t you see how good this is? How right?”
He looked at her, and pain and derision were scrawled all over his face.
“No, I’m sorry, Lucia. I cannot. All I can see is how the woman I thought I loved is more selfish than I ever would have believed.”
Lucia felt her world implode, and curled up, trying to hold it together.
Perhaps this was how it was supposed to be. Maybe she was carrying Marco’s baby already, and if so, she would have it and love it as she had always imagined. She would stay with her mother for a while and raise the baby in her family, and hope that someday, maybe, Marco would come back to her, because that hope was all she had.
11
CHANCE KNOCKED GENTLY on Ana’s door and, when there was no answer, turned the knob and let himself in. She’d said she was okay to clean up on her own, but he’d noted the shadows under her beautiful eyes and the tension pinching near her mouth. She was tired and upset. And rightfully so.
He felt marginally better that she’d agreed to stay at the house for the remainder of her stay, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were up against something far larger than he’d originally thought. And that Marco was somehow involved. It was a gut instinct, but there was just something about the guy. Chance was waiting on a call from Garrett or Jonas, the two digging to see what they could turn up.
It was all he could do for the moment.
“Ana, are you here?” he called and then saw that she was curled up on the lounge on her veranda, sleeping.
Chance crossed the room, squatting down by the side of the lounge, utter tenderness overwhelming him as he took in her face as she slept. She looked peaceful, her cheek snuggled down into her palm, long lashes brushing her skin as she breathed softly.
He didn’t say another word, didn’t touch her, though he wanted nothing more than to pull her in close to him, cover her and protect her from everything that could hurt her. If anything had happened to her—more than what did—he wasn’t sure he could have treated it like a professional loss.
His feelings for Ana were ranging deep into the personal, stirring up things he’d never felt for any woman before. The thought of losing her was... Well, he didn’t intend to let that happen.
Nodding to himself, as if reinforcing his own promise, he stood and started to walk away, letting her sleep.
“Chance?”
Her sleepy voice caught him like a net and drew him back.
God, she was so beautiful, it socked him in the gut just to look at her.
“Hey. I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, returning to her side. “I just came in to make sure you were okay.”
“I was going to shower and change, but then I thought I would lay down, just for a few minutes. What time is it?”
“Not late. Only about an hour since we parted ways downstairs. Your mother must be taking out her anxiety in the kitchen—something is smelling really good down there.”
Ana smiled and pushed up to sitting, looking much better than she had earlier.
“That is a well-known tradition in our house, to cook through just about anything, happy or sad,” she said with a smile. There was more color in her face, more energy in her eyes, Chance noted with relief.
“How’s the arm?”
She moved her shoulder, wincing a bit. “Better than earlier. Still very sore, but the throbbing has passed, thank goodness.”
“It will heal quickly. Don’t worry. Luckily, it really was just a scrape, though I know it feels worse than that.”
Ana shudder
ed. “It does, but it’s also the idea that a bullet did this—and what it could have done. If this little scrape feels like this, I can only imagine what it’s like to actually get shot,” she said, shaking her head.
Chance grimaced. “I don’t intend for you to ever have to find out.”
Ana’s eyes widened. “You’ve been shot?”
“Once. Something I would rather not repeat.”
“Where?”
Chance paused and then stood, unbuckling his belt and drawing down his khakis to show her where he’d once caught a twenty-two slug just below his hip.
She focused on the small scar and reached out to touch it, her fingers sparking lust as they ran lightly over the puckered spot.
“Someone shot you,” she said, repeating it to herself, as if needing to convince herself it was true. Raising her eyes to his, she asked, “Why?”
He smirked. “Boiled-rabbit case,” he said, and she frowned, shaking her head.
“Ever see Fatal Attraction, the movie?” he asked, and she nodded in immediate understanding.
“It’s how the guys and I refer to it, jokingly, that case. A very wealthy trust-fund guy had one wife and too many girlfriends, and he’d broken it off with one of the lovers who didn’t want to let go. So the wife hired us to protect him,” Chance explained.
“Magnanimous of her, considering,” Ana said.
“Yeah, well, as it turns out, it was just a cover story. She was the one who tried to shoot him, figuring one of the girlfriends would take the blame and she’d get all the insurance,” Chance said. “But this was the only time I was shot, and it did hurt like a bitch,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t ski or climb for almost a year.”
She smiled. “So what did you do instead, to settle your adventurous spirit?”
He wasn’t going to tell her that he’d gotten particularly close with his physical therapist, but opted for a partial truth.
His Kind of Trouble Page 13