Theirs by Chance

by Karen Ann Dell

  “How about tomorrow night, then?” he said. I’ll be celebrating finally making love to you. Hopefully you’ll feel the same way.

  “Okay, it’s a deal.” Her wide smile kicked his heart into high gear.

  “Hey, Marjorie! How are you?”

  Instinctively Lance moved closer to Marjorie at the sound of the male voice. The tall guy came down the walkway toward them. Daisy moved in front of her mistress, her tail doing a slow tick-tock.

  “Dan, how nice to see you again. I didn’t know you were back in town.” Marjorie turned toward Lance. “You remember Dan Simmons, Lance. The veterinarian who stayed at the inn a few weeks ago?”

  “I do,” he said. “Nice to see you, Dan. What brings you back to Blue Point Cove?”

  He obviously wasn’t staying at the inn. Curiosity, wariness, and, yeah, a pang of something that might be jealousy, churned uncomfortably in his gut.

  “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me soon. I’ve decided to open my practice here. The population is growing, and there isn’t another vet in a fifteen-mile radius. I want to get in on the ground floor.” He shot Marjorie a smile. “Want to be my first customer?

  “Absolutely. When do you plan to set up shop?”

  “It will probably take me another month or so. I drove in today to sign the lease papers on the store next to the laundromat. It’ll take me at least a couple of weeks to install the furnishings in the exam rooms and set up the O. R.”

  “Well, let me know when you’re open for business, and I’ll bring Daisy in for a check-up.”

  “I’ll do that. Have a good evening.” His smile at Marjorie was warm.

  Lance took Marjorie’s hand in his and nodded coolly. “You too.” Don’t get any ideas, Danny-boy. Daisy’s the only female you’ll get your hands on in this group. His gesture wasn’t lost on the other man, who met Lance’s gaze with a knowing grin before he turned and walked toward the parking lot.

  “He seems like such a nice man. I hope his practice picks up quickly.”

  “The town is certainly growing. I imagine he’ll do well here.” He’d check out Mr. Simmons on the Net. The man’s interest in Marjorie was probably the understandable attraction of any male to a woman as beautiful as she was, but Lance wouldn’t take any chances.

  They strolled back toward the town square, Marjorie content to leave her hand in his.

  If he could get her to confide in him, he’d have a better idea of what, or who, to watch out for. Why wouldn’t she trust him? Surely she must realize by now that he’d never hurt her, or let anyone else hurt her either.

  They sauntered around the square, passing couples and families out to enjoy the evening. Daisy proved a big hit among the youngsters and allowed herself to be petted and fawned over without complaint.

  Marjorie appeared particularly wistful as one bright-eyed toddler with blond curls threw her arms around Daisy’s neck and hugged her tight. She seemed quiet and thoughtful on their way home, and Lance wondered if one of her secrets had to do with children. Did she have a daughter of her own? One she may have given up for adoption? He could understand situations that might force a single woman down that path. Maybe she had a son or daughter who died. He blew out a sigh, frustrated that she couldn’t or wouldn’t trust him enough to confide in him.

  They arrived back at the inn as the first stars pricked the deepening blue overhead. The landscape lighting spread a welcoming glow over the front of the Victorian mansion and solar-powered path lights marked the walkway to the front door. They went around back and through the gate. The yard was awash in shadows, the kitchen dark. Lance searched the dark corners for anything unusual or out of place. Satisfied, he climbed the porch steps. “I’ll go in first.”

  “I didn’t think we’d be gone long enough to put the porch light on,” Marjorie said.

  He used his key to unlock the door and flipped on the outside light as he passed. The lamp on the reception desk cast a faint circle of light by the front door, but the rest of the first floor was dark. He made a quick circuit of all the rooms.

  Marjorie unclipped Daisy’s leash and hung it on the hook by the door, then turned on the light over the sink.

  “You might want to consider putting a couple of lights on timers and adding a light sensor to the one on the porch so you don’t have to remember when to turn them on.”

  “Good idea.” She took a bowl of strawberries and a can of whipped cream out of the refrigerator. “Ready for dessert?” she asked, as Lance came back to the kitchen.

  “Oh yeah,” he replied, cupping her face in his hands and brushing a kiss across her lips. “You can skip the strawberries. All I want for dessert is you.” He picked up the can of whipped cream. “And this.” He nudged her mouth open with a finger and squirted a dollop of the sweet cream inside. Before she had a chance to swallow it, he kissed her again, open-mouthed, and sucked the topping off of her tongue.

  She leaned into him and pressed her soft curves against his hardness. “I think you missed some.” She licked the corner of his mouth then slid her tongue between his lips.

  Lance sucked again and she whimpered softly. He stroked a hand down her back and cupped her bottom, letting the feel of him tell her where he wanted to go. He eased back to see her face and noted with satisfaction that her eyes had gone soft and hazy and her lips were plumped from his kisses. He slipped a hand under her tank top and felt her nipples peak through the lace of her bra.

  “I think we should go upstairs,” she gasped.

  “Good idea.”

  She took his hand and led him toward the stairs. He was only too happy to follow.

  When they got to her bedroom, Marjorie clicked on the light on her nightstand and turned to face him. She flattened her palm against his chest to stop him from closing the distance between them.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind. He’d stop, of course, if she asked him to. But it wouldn’t be easy. He’d been fantasizing about being inside her for months. The day she brought Daisy home and they’d almost . . . Well, she seemed totally on board, then. Now?

  “I, ah, just wanted to explain that I haven’t had a lot of experience with, uh, sex. And what I did have was several years ago, so I, uh, might not, um, be all you expect.”

  He put his hand over hers against his chest and smoothed a long tendril of hair behind her ear. “We have a lot of things in common, darling, and this is just another one of them.” He chucked her under the chin so she raised her face to him. “I haven’t had a partner in quite a while either. The good news is it’s like riding a bike. Once you take a spin, you never forget how. And since everything gets better with practice, we’ll both have to make up for lost time.”

  He leaned down and kissed her slowly, languorously, until he felt her hand curl into his shirt and her body melt against his. Then he began to undress her. First the big shirt, then the tank top. He took the time to kiss and caress every newly bared inch of creamy skin. By the time he got to the hook on her bra, he was hard as stone. He slipped the straps down her arms, then peeled the cups away from two perfect orbs of satiny skin crowned with taut, pink tips. He palmed them both and squeezed gently, rewarded by a soft mewl of pleasure from Marjorie.

  She tugged on the hem of his T-shirt and he reached behind his neck to grab it and pull it off. When her hands went to his fly, he brushed them away and quickly removed his shorts and briefs, not wanting her to wonder at the weight of the Sig in his pocket.

  “My turn,” he said, his voice rough with desire. Her linen slacks and white satin bikinis were gone in a second. He laid her back on the bed, and as his eyes traveled over her from head to toe, his hands caressed the soft skin of her shoulders, cupped her breasts and teased the crests to hard little peaks, then smoothed over her flat stomach to follow the flare of her hips. Her
legs were long and slim, but taut with muscle, and as he trailed his fingers up the inside of her thighs to the nest of curls at their apex, he discovered his first surprise.

  “You’re a redhead.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Oh, crap. I didn’t think about that.”

  He quirked up one corner of his mouth in a smile. “Don’t panic. It’s hardly a deal-breaker, honey.” He leaned down and kissed the mound of curls, then slipped a finger between her legs and found her center. Warm and slick with arousal, her channel was tight around a single one of his fingers. He thumbed her bud until she squirmed, then trailed kisses up her body, paying homage to each breast until she gasped and moaned his name.

  “Lance, please. I want you inside me. Can’t you . . .?” She panted now and drenched his fingers with her heat.

  “Almost, baby. You’re not quite ready,” he said and slipped a second finger into her. He withdrew them, then slid into her again, circling her bud swollen from his attentions. And a third time. Marjorie arched her back and clenched around his fingers as she came apart with a shuddering cry.

  Lance watched as a delicate blush bloomed across Marjorie’s face and chest. The woman was beautiful and sensual as hell, in spite of her admitted lack of experience. He let her breathing slow then began kissing her again. He spread her legs and settled between them, his erection rubbing her sweet spot as he again suckled her breasts.

  “I refuse to come again unless you’re inside me,” she pouted.

  “Really?” He gave her a wicked grin and reached between them.

  “Ohhh.” Her breathing hitched. “Okay, I prefer not to come unless you’re inside me, you evil man.” She reached down and stroked his manhood from base to tip. A tiny frown appeared between her brows. She stroked him again. This time her eyes widened in alarm.

  “See?” he said, his expression halfway between smug and apologetic. “You said it had been a while and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  She swallowed. “You have a condom that will fit, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Let me put it on you.”

  He sat back on his heels, tore the wrapper open, and dropped it into her hand. “Your wish is my command, Reds.”

  With eyes narrowed at this new nickname, Marjorie took the hard length of him in her hand and leaned down to swirl her tongue around the tip.

  “Sweet Mother of God,” he groaned.

  She glanced up from beneath her brows. “Lubrication is supposed to help, isn’t it?” She rolled the latex on providing as much extra stimulation as possible as payback.

  “Wench.” He pressed her shoulders back against the mattress and positioned himself at her opening. Slowly he pushed into her cleft. She was deliciously tight around him. He retreated and thrust again, deeper.

  “Oh God. More,” she begged and rocked against him to take him deeper still.

  He picked up her hips and buried himself to the hilt, using every ounce of control he could muster to keep from instantly exploding inside her. He began the rhythm as old as time and watched Marjorie’s face as she climbed toward another climax. She opened her eyes as her orgasm took her, her expression beautiful to see.

  He followed her over the brink, pleasure coursing through him as she milked him dry.

  Chapter 12

  “So, how red is your hair?” Lance played with a silken tress.

  “Pretty red,” Marjorie said. The delicious afterglow of fabulous sex left her limbs heavy, as she snuggled against Lance and laid her head on his chest.

  “That’s hardly descriptive.”

  “Orphan Annie red, then.” Might as well get it over with.

  “Why would you trade in a glorious color like that for this?” He let the lock slide through his fingers to drape across his chest. “Not that there’s anything wrong with this color,” he backpedaled.

  She smiled into his chest. Then she sobered as she realized she’d have to tell him everything.

  Six years of secrecy was difficult to simply turn off.

  “Okay, I know this is all camouflage and we’ll get to the reasons for that in a minute, but I’d like to have a picture of the real Marjorie before we dive into the tough stuff.”

  She sighed. A picture of the real Marjorie would show nothing but ashes, but she wasn’t ready to go there. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “My eyes aren’t brown.”

  “I knew it!”

  “You did?”

  “Not really knew, I guess. Suspected is more accurate.”

  “What gave me away?”

  “The fact that you wear glasses that you don’t need. I figured out that every time you actually had to read something you looked over the tops, so once when you left them on the kitchen table I picked them up and checked them out. No difference. There was no prescription ground into the lenses. I thought if you went to all that trouble to hide your eyes you probably wore colored contacts, too.”

  “Sergeant Smart Ass,” she grumped.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Yep, that’s me. So? What color are they?”

  She sighed. After the hair comment, she knew this would cause more consternation. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as her mom used to say. “They’re green.”

  He stared at her. “Take ‘em out.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. Take ‘em out.” He leaned over and kissed her tenderly. “Please. I want to see the real you, Red.”

  Marjorie rolled her eyes. She tossed back the covers and searched through the pile of discarded clothes until she found her big shirt.

  Lance stacked his hands behind his head and watched her. “Don’t feel you have to cover up on my account.”

  “I’m chilly.”

  “I can see that.” He smirked.

  She gave him a reproving glance but a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. She disappeared into the bathroom and returned in a few minutes, and climbed onto the bed. Perching on her knees, she allowed him to examine her face.

  “My God, woman. You are so beautiful. This charade has got to stop.”

  “No. I, I can’t. It’s too dangerous.” Her mouth firmed into a determined straight line.

  He threw up his hands in defeat. “What else? Besides wearing clothes to hide that gorgeous body.” He tugged the big shirt off one shoulder and she abandoned it for the warmth of settling against him under the covers. “I’m happy with that, by the way, if it keeps other men from following you around and drooling.”

  “Nobody follows me around drooling, you idiot.”

  “I know one person who does,” he said, his voice serious now. “Okay, now that you’ve told me about all the things you do to disguise yourself, it’s time to tell me why.”

  “If I tell you any more, you have to promise me that you won’t act on any of the information.”

  “Hmm. Not sure I can promise that.”

  “Then I can’t tell you any more.”

  Marjorie rolled away from Lance, immediately missing the warm, solid feel of his body. She needed to see his face if she told him anything else. And she had to have that promise.

  “Let’s see if we can’t find some middle ground here.” He sat up and stuffed a pillow behind his back then tugged her close enough to put his arm around her shoulders. “How about if I feel something needs to be done with whatever you tell me, we discuss the options until we can agree on how to move forward.”

  She arched a brow. “And if we can’t agree? That sounds like a round-about way of saying you’ll wear me down until I cave, and do what you want.”

  “That would be best, but— Ow!”

  Marjorie jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “Don’t try to BS me, Fisher. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to talk about this
at all.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. Because you won’t tell me what has you so frightened.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I wish you would, Red. I wish you would trust me to keep you safe.”

  If he kept treating her so tenderly, she would fall apart in his arms and tell him everything.

  She couldn’t risk his life. She just . . . couldn’t.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Lance. I don’t want to endanger you.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. Maybe there was a way to warn him off, without telling him the specifics.

  “All right, you win.” She settled closer against him. Took a deep breath. “Six years ago I had a brief affair with the man I used to work for. He was handsome and charming and running for the state legislature. I was young and naive and bowled over by his attentions. One night when I was working late, I heard him arguing with another man who also worked on his campaign. Apparently the man had had an affair with my boss and threatened to go public with that information if my boss didn’t get rid of me and take up their relationship again. My boss refused, not so much because he didn’t want to dump me, but because he didn’t want to risk coming out while he ran for office.

  After this man left, my boss called his security chief and indicated that he should ‘take care’ of the situation.” She made air quotes. “When my boss came to pick me up at my cubicle, I had earbuds in like I normally did when typing up his dictation, and pretended I was so concentrated on my work that I didn’t even hear him come into my cubicle. That night I begged off from our usual late date with a headache and upset stomach.”

  “I imagine that wasn’t really an excuse,” Lance said.

  “Sooo right. Two days later, the other staffer allegedly jumped from the roof of our building. The police investigated, of course, and questioned all of us in the campaign office.” Marjorie rubbed her forehead. “I need some water. Do you want any?”