One More Chance

by Ruth Jean Dale

  He answered her with a slow, soft smile.

  She touched his mouth with hers, lightly at first, gentle kisses that quickly moved on to something else. A familiar pleasure began to build inside her and she sighed and opened her mouth to him.

  His tongue plunged between her lips, even as his hands manipulated the zipper down the back of her dress. Without interrupting the kiss, he slipped the garment off her shoulders and down around her waist.

  She clung to him weakly, content to draw from his strength. All she desired was to be one with him. He laid her back gently on the bed, undressing her so skillfully that she scarcely knew what was happening.

  She felt drunk, not with alcohol but with a heady combination of relief and desire. He loved her without reservation, as she loved him. He loved her enough to take her on faith, and she loved him enough to give herself on faith.

  He lay beside her and the mattress shifted beneath his weight. He took her in his arms, his body hard and hot against hers. "Open your eyes," he commanded, then added a gentle "please."

  Slowly she complied. His beloved features swam before her dazzled eyes. He stroked her collarbone lightly with his fingers, then moved his hand down her body with languorous strokes. Pausing at one breast, he applied gentle pressure, lifting the firm weight in his palm, tugging the nipple between curved fingers.

  He raised his head, his possessive gaze locked with her rapt one. She held her breath as he lowered his head to her breast and took the nipple between his lips.

  She groaned and pressed her head back on the pillow. Eyes closed, she savored the sensations created by his mouth. With his hand, he stroked down across her stomach. She tensed and her thighs trembled in anticipation of his touch in the cluster of dark curls. When it came she let out her breath in a long, languorous sigh.

  Everything was happening so fast. Her body tightened and she felt the tension spiral until she knew she'd never be able to withstand it. She covered his undulating hand with her own trembling fingers and groaned his name.

  He lifted his head and smiled at her in perfect understanding, his blond hair damp across his forehead and his blue eyes blazing a question. She couldn't speak; she nodded, and he understood.

  As he moved over her, as his body found hers moist and ready, she understood at last what it was to give herself, emotionally as well as physically.

  She wasn't afraid anymore, not of living, not of dying… not of loving.

  Especially not of loving.

  They lay in the four-poster, apart and yet more together than they'd ever been. Only their hands touched, yet they were one.

  Juliana rolled her head to the side so she could see his face. He looked sleepy and satisfied. She squeezed his hand. "I love you," she whispered.

  He turned his head and smiled lazily. "Ditto."

  She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his palm. "I guess we ought to talk now," she forced herself to say.

  "Hey, I don't bite… much." He rolled onto his side and leaned over to drop a quick kiss on the upper swell of her breast. "Okay, say your piece. I'm listening."

  Her lips tightened and she swallowed hard. "This is hard," she said finally.

  His smile encouraged her. "If it's worth having, etcetera…"

  She nodded. "I guess I might as well plunge right in, then." She sucked in a deep breath. "Everything I did, I did because I wanted to help you," she said in a rush. "I wanted to loan you the money you needed—hell, I wanted to give you the money."

  "And I wouldn't even talk about it—I know. And I called you stubborn," he said with an unrepentant air.

  She silenced him with a disapproving frown. "And then I found out Cary was behind the second offer." She looked into his eyes, willing him to understand and believe.

  He pressed her palm against his chest and dragged it down until it lay flat on his stomach, her fingers splayed and pointing down like arrows. "Why didn't you just tell me?" he asked.

  "By the time I found out, it was too late. You needed a buyer and I didn't see anyone else coming forward." Ashamed because she hadn't been honest with him, she dropped her gaze. "It's not that I lacked faith in you." She pressed the pads of her fingers into his muscular flesh.

  He tensed and gave a soft grunt. "Okay. Assuming you're right…"

  "You know I'm right." She snaked her hands lower, curling her fingers through his crisp thick hair until her fingers encountered the resistance they sought. "So I came up with that ill-conceived plan to give you the money you needed by buying a few acres. I wasn't in cahoots with Cary, I swear."

  He gulped, his body going stiff in all directions. "I believe you," he croaked.

  She slipped her fingers around the powerful thrust of him with gentle insistence. "But now everything's changed."

  "Jeez, you'll have to tell me. I'm not thinking straight." He closed his eyes briefly, but he didn't attempt to discourage the attentions of her hand.

  "Well, this is California, after all. Assuming you're a man of your word and you still plan to make an honest woman of me—"

  "Ah, that it could be done," he moaned.

  She ignored the interruption. "Yes, well, if you do the right thing by me, good old community property comes into the picture. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine."

  "Hold it." He clamped his hand around her wrist and his blue eyes blazed. "What's mine is yours and what's yours is yours." He shook his head and frowned. "Let me take another crack at that. What's mine is yours and what's yours is—"

  She rolled over until her face was only inches from his. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds, my darling?"

  He assumed an indignant air, with some difficulty, she noted. "I wouldn't say exactly ridiculous. More like… stupid."

  "Okay. Stupid works for me."

  "It's just that… we've got to live on my income."

  "Why? Who's going to live on mine?"

  "You're twisting my words."

  "That's not all I'm twisting." Her second hand joined her first.

  "Jeez, slow down or I won't be able to… maintain—" he begged. He swallowed hard.

  "All right, if you insist." She slowed the smooth pull of her hands. "Anyway, we can keep this place if you want to. If you want to be an avocado farmer it's all right with me. Anything's all right with me."

  "You mean that?"

  "Of course."

  "Then you won't mind that I sort of made a deal with Cary Goddard."

  She sat bolt upright in the middle of the bed. "After all the hell I've been through, you sold to Cary Goddard?"

  He lay on his back looking up at her. "After you ran out on me tonight, I realized something. My own pride got me into this mess, not anything you did or didn't do."

  "But—"

  "Let me say this and get it over with, okay?" He glowered at her and she subsided. "Everything was all mixed up in my head, as if Cary Goddard was somehow responsible for my mother's death and my own inadequacies. And then I got tangled up with you…"

  "Tangled up? That hardly does me justice!" She suppressed a grin.

  But he was serious. "You've been sick, Juliana—no one knows that better than I do. I didn't want to take advantage of you, and I sure as hell didn't want to fall in love with you. I did both."

  She leaned down and touched the side of his face with awful longing. "For which I'll be eternally grateful. I love you, but I also need you. Without you, I'd still be a shark in the ocean of real estate. I count on you to keep me… well, maybe not honest—I think I may have taken a bum rap on that—but nice."

  His eyes widened suddenly, as if he'd just remembered something important. "Speaking of nice…"

  He rolled over to the edge of the bed and stood up. She watched his bare backside with appreciation as he walked buck naked out the door. She didn't even ask where he was going; instead she anticipated his return.

  In seconds he was back, and the front view was even nicer than the back one. So intent was she upon admiring his powerful body t
hat she didn't notice he carried something in his hands, until he thrust it toward her.

  "What's this?" She shifted her glance, brows arching.

  "Congratulations. Tonight you were named Summerhill real estate's Good Samaritan."

  "You're kidding!" She took the plaque and read the heading: The Webster Malone Good Samaritan Award. "Is this a joke?"

  "Nope. Remember the Burtons? They've apparently been an albatross for a long time. You took them out of circulation and your fellow real-estate professionals are appropriately grateful."

  Juliana shook her head. "This is crazy. They were a little difficult, but once we understood each other, it was a piece of cake."

  "Kind of tells you something about the level of good deeds in real-estate circles, then, doesn't it?" Ben dropped down beside her on the bed. "The best part is, Barbara nominated you, back when she thought she could afford to be magnanimous."

  "Now I know you're putting me on!" She stared at him, her astonishment complete.

  "I'm not! Stella thinks Babs was just trying to humiliate you as an also-ran. Then when she found out about that back-door deal you made with Pete, she tried to withdraw your name and got turned down flat. Seems Stella had given the awards committee chapter and verse on a number of good deeds you'd quietly done over the past several years. So you can take the prize and be happy. In my opinion, you earned it."

  "No, I didn't. But I will next year." Choked up, she brushed at the moisture on her cheeks. I hope you're proud of me at last, Daddy, she thought. She hugged the plaque to her. "I suppose Barbara was named Summerhill Real Estate Star for the umpteenth time." She didn't feel the expected twinge and realized it simply didn't matter to her anymore.

  "Yeah, but she won't be next year. I told Goddard we could deal, but not through that bitch. He's going to use—"

  "Not me!" Juliana's fingers convulsed around the award, her eyes widening with horror.

  "Settle down. You think I'm crazy?" He gave her an offended glance. "Somebody else. Anybody else. You'll be representing me—I mean us."

  "I don't know…"

  "That way we'll save the commission," he wheedled.

  She gave him a look so richly appalled that he burst out laughing. "Any more questions?"

  "Only one. Why are you so willing to believe in me? Even Pete thought at first that I was trying to get control of your land. Even I have to admit I don't look too good in all this."

  He thought about it for a moment. Then he asked, "Do you remember when Barbara accused you of conspiring to cheat that widow?"

  "How could I forget? It was one of the blacker moments in my life."

  He nodded. "And remember, I had faith in you, even though you thought you were probably guilty."

  "That's right, you did." She gazed at him, her heart filled with wonder.

  "My love, there was an explanation then, and I knew there was an explanation now. I guess that's what love does—makes you goofy enough to trust. But even if there hadn't been an explanation, I wouldn't have turned my back on you."

  "You wouldn't?" She could barely believe her luck in finding a man like this one. "What would you have done?"

  "Worked harder to convince you that you could trust me and count on me. Baby, I've been dodging responsibility ever since my wife—my first wife—died. But not anymore. I'm committed to you, for better or for worse."

  "For richer or poorer," she whispered.

  He hesitated. A slight smile touched his lips. "For richer or poorer," he agreed finally.

  "I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  They melted together in an embrace that promised an endless future of love and happiness, for at last Juliana dared to believe such possibilities existed.

  And with Ben's last coherent thought, he promised himself that tomorrow he'd explain to her that he and Gary Goddard had reached a meeting of the minds that would bring each of them half of what he wanted. Goddard would buy twelve acres of the Ware avocado ranch, which would get Lillian out of the avocado business, but leave Ben with a decent-sized operation, plus a little money to invest in his security business. He wouldn't be rich—any extra bucks would go to the shelters in San Francisco and Los Angeles that had helped give him his second chance.

  Because he'd had that second chance, he'd been around to help Juliana seize her own. In that flashing instant before he gave himself up to his love for her, he realized that he would take not only a second chance on her but a third and a fifth and a tenth, if that's what it required.

  Chances beyond counting, all in the name of love.