His Kind of Trouble (12 page)

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.

* * *

L
UCIA
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, every 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

C
HANCE
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 shuddered. “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.

“I worked on the plane, mostly, and did some other light activity. It was one long year,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I can imagine. You like to take risks, to push yourself,” she observed, running her fingers up and down the length of his hip now and sending sparks along his skin that made it hard to focus.

“Ana, I can’t think straight when you touch me,” he admitted, but didn’t want her to stop.

“Good. I like that,” she said, curving her hand around his backside and squeezing.

Chance was hard in three seconds flat, but backed away from her exploring hands. It wasn’t easy, as he would have rather gotten closer.

“We shouldn’t. Your arm,” he said, taking a deep breath and pulling his shorts back on.

“My arm is fine. Just a little sore. I feel better now that the meds have worn off and I had some sleep. I could use some help cleaning up, though,” she said coyly, looking up at him with those eyes. Chance couldn’t look away, and he certainly couldn’t say no.

He slid an arm around her, easing her up gently, careful not to touch her sore shoulder. When she stood next to him, he pushed the hair back from her face, kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw, before teasing her soft, soft mouth with his own.

This was different, he knew. Something was different.

“Your mother, she made that comment about her daughters finding good men,” he said, nuzzling her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, yes... I mean, not that you are not a good man, but Mama, she sees wedding bells everywhere. I don’t know how to tell her that we are, well, nothing serious,” Ana said, sighing as she kissed the column of his throat.

Chance backed away slightly.

“So what are we, then?” he asked, shocked to hear himself ask the question that women had asked him over the years. His response was always to break it off and go in another direction as quickly as possible.

But he had no inclination to get away from Ana. Quite the opposite.

“What are you saying?” she countered, looking circumspect and...hopeful?

“Just that... I don’t know. What I do know is that this isn’t a job anymore for me.”

She smiled. “Hmm, I’m glad to hear that. I’d hate to think you are this way with all of your clients.”

He smiled, too. “I didn’t mean it that way. Just that, yeah, this started as...fun. Attraction. A distraction, even. But it’s more now. I’m not sure what, exactly, but I know I’d like to keep seeing you, even after this is over. If you’d like that,” he said and realized he was actually holding his breath.

Chance had never once been nervous with a woman since sixth grade, when he’d asked Marlee Cooper out on his first date. She’d said no, and he’d quickly learned there were a lot more fish in the sea. Many, many pretty fish.

“I wondered if you felt it, too,” she said, and he breathed again. “I’d like to keep seeing you, too. To see if we have...something,” she said.

“Oh, honey, we definitely have something,” he said with a smile, tipping her face up so he could let her know exactly how much something they had.

She parted her lips, meeting him kiss for kiss, the heat building rapidly between them. But when he inadvertently nudged her shoulder and she bit back a gasp, he sucked in a breath and stood still.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You make it hard to say no, but why don’t we just focus on getting you cleaned up, change that bandage and we’ll head downstairs to help your mom?”

He could see that she wanted to argue, but then she nodded. “Thank you, yes. That’s probably best.”

They made their way to her bath, where Chance helped her undress, and as it turned out, concern for her comfort far outweighed his need to make love to her...though his body was making its needs clear. He ignored it.

Her needs came first, and he helped her wash up in the shower, enjoying gliding the soft sponge over her skin, washing every curve and hidden space. He found the task to be oddly satisfying, still aroused—how could he not be? But just caring for her in this way satisfied something deep inside of him.

She grabbed his shoulder with her good hand as she balanced and he washed behind her knees, planting a kiss on her thigh.

“Chance, I don’t think I can take this much longer,” she said, her voice tight.

“Do you hurt? Do you feel sick?” he asked, cursing himself for getting too caught up in touching her.

She looked down, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glittering with heat.

“No, silly man. Your washing has put me at the edge. I need you to make me come, or I think my knees might give out if you keep this up,” she said.

Her directness shot straight through him, challenging every ounce of control he had.

“I can do that. Can’t have you falling, can we?” he said, looking up. She shook her head.

“That wouldn’t be good, no,” she agreed.

“Maybe this will be,” he said, easing the sponge between her legs as he washed gently there, kissing the inside of her thigh.

Ana gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulder.

“Oh, yes, that is good,” she said, panting as he continued to rub the sponge rhythmically along her sex.

“Maybe this will be even better,” he said, dropping the sponge and parting her gently, replacing it with his lips, his tongue.

She was hot, slick. Even as the water ran down her body, Chance lapped at her clit until she cried out, and he didn’t stop until she was sighing his name again. Her knees trembled, and he stood, pulling her into his arms to support her. He was as hard as steel, but he didn’t care, rocking her back and forth as she relaxed against him.

They definitely had
something
.

“C’mon. Let’s get that bandage on, and some clothes, and go make some tamales,” he said, kissing her once and then stepping out of the shower, assisting her out, as well.

She laughed. “Have you ever made tamales?”

“Nope. Is it hard?”

“It’s fun. Everyone pitches in. Like a factory. You’re in for a treat,” she said as they dried off and focused on her bandage.

Chance smiled as he affixed the bandage and helped her with her dress. He was pretty sure that as treats went, tamales were going to pull an easy second place.

* * *

A
NA
WAS
HAPPIER
THAN
SHE
could remember being in a very long time. The food was prepared, and she, Chance and her cousins were decorating the courtyard and the house. Tomorrow night, everyone would gather in the center of the village to watch fireworks set off over the water, exploding over the tree tops of the jungle, and then they would all travel from house to house for food and dancing, games and conversation.

But at midnight, she planned to sneak away and have a very private celebration with Chance, to bring in the New Year with him alone.

He wanted more. He said they had something. Ana had been thrilled to her bones when he had asked to see her after he was no longer her bodyguard. Then, he would just be...hers.

He’d cared for her so sweetly, so tenderly, her heart had just about burst earlier when he’d come to her room to help her. There had never been anyone like him, and Ana was romantic enough to admit there might never be anyone else who could make her feel this way.

It was too early, too brief, to tell him that she loved him—or that she could, so easily—but her heart insisted, every time she looked at him.

As if she had finally found something that she’d been missing all along, and she hadn’t even realized it.

“What are you thinking about?” Chance asked her as he stood poised on a short ladder, holding up one end of some colorful garland that Juan was tacking into place from the other side of the entryway. Because of her arm, Ana couldn’t help, except to direct their efforts, but she was having fun with that, too.

“Just that you need to move that a little farther to the middle,” she said.

Her tone was innocent enough, but he got the message. She had asked him to move exactly that way, earlier, when his mouth had been on her in the shower.

His blue eyes darkened in response, letting her know he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

Ana smiled, looking away, enjoying the game. It had been so long since she’d played this way or had even flirted.

“I guess Lucia decided to stay at Marco’s tonight,” she said, checking the clock. It was unlike her sister not to call, but then again, it was clear that Lucia’s focus was not on much other than Marco. Ana couldn’t blame her, feeling much the same way about Chance.

“I guess so,” Chance said noncommittally. Not that he would have much concern about her sister’s love life, but Ana couldn’t help but detect that Chance changed when the subject of Marco came up. His face would shift to a more serious and more neutral look, a mask—as if he didn’t want to give anything away.

He couldn’t possibly still be jealous of Marco having proposed to her—clearly, that was not even an issue. Marco and Lucia were a surprise, but clearly they were deeply in love. And Ana had eyes for no one but her bodyguard.

She smiled to herself; funny how only a few days ago she was doing anything she could to evade Chance, dead set against having a watchdog.

Now she was very, very glad he was so good at his job.

A cell tone sounded in the room, and she realized it was Chance’s phone. He handed off the garland to another one of her cousins and excused himself to another room.