Tonight she was going to make love with Chance. Tonight she was going to make love for the very first time in her life. Again a cold wave swept through her at the same time a flush of heat rose inside. She had never been so nervous in her entire life.
Think about the end result, she told herself. Don’t be nervous, just concentrate on the fact that nine months from tonight you might be holding a beautiful baby of your own. Her heart swelled at the thought.
Lana had always wanted children, but since her niece’s birth her want had grown into something much bigger. She was a nurturer at heart, and longed to nurture her own child.
She jumped as Chance opened his car door and slid back behind the wheel. “Everything all right?” she asked.
“Fine. Walter says it will take several weeks for everything to be signed, sealed and delivered. In the meantime, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me at the ranch.”
It was just after two in the afternoon when they pulled into the Reilly ranch. Immediately Chance disappeared down the hall and into the bedroom, and Lana stood uncertainly in the kitchen, wondering what would happen next.
Would he want to make love right away? With the midday sun shining through the windows? Her cheeks burned at the very thought. She’d certainly prefer the darkness of night for her first foray into the act of lovemaking.
She whirled around as he came back into the kitchen, surprised to see that he had changed out of his suit and into a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt.
“I’m going to do a little work out in the barn,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting hers. “I’ll be back in later.” Before the words had completely left his mouth he was gone, disappearing out the back door.
Lana remained standing in the center of the kitchen for a long moment. She knew it was ridiculous to feel neglected, to feel cast aside and unloved.
She was unloved, at least as far as Chance Reilly was concerned. She was a necessity in his life at the moment and it was stupid to get her feelings hurt just because he’d hightailed it out of the house to work in the barn on their wedding day.
She went into the bedroom—the master bedroom where she would be spending the night with Chance. She’d spent the day before bringing more of her things over from her apartment, and Chance had spent part of the day transforming the room from Sarge’s to his own.
A new multicolored bedspread covered crisp new sheets. The spread was a splash of color in an otherwise colorless room, but she knew it was Chance’s need to brand the room with something of his own.
The top of the dresser held an array of items—several bottles of cologne, small change and a pack of matches from a café in Topeka, Kansas, with a phone number written in pencil across the front.
Lana was certain it was a woman’s number. Chance probably had a woman waiting for him in every city when he traveled. And why wouldn’t he? He was handsome and incredibly sexy and had just enough bad-boy aura about him to make him wonderfully intriguing. Women would be drawn to him like bees to honey.
She took off her dress and exchanged it for a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, rose-colored blouse at the same time wondering how long Chance would remain outside. Would he work all afternoon, or come back inside in an hour or two?
Carrying her wedding bouquet back into the kitchen, she contemplated how to spend the afternoon. She was now a wife, and the least she could do was make a nice meal for her husband.
She was eager for any activity that would take her mind away from the night to come, a night that could be beautiful beyond her wildest dreams…or confirm to her that she’d made the biggest mistake in her life.
Chance banged another nail into the barn door, using more force than was necessary to drive it into the slightly rotten wood.
He didn’t know what to do with his anger. It had been a living, breathing force inside him since he’d arrived back here and found his father had passed away. It had built to mammoth proportions when he’d heard about the terms of the will, threatening to consume him entirely.
He paused in his task and sat on a nearby bale of musty-smelling hay. The barn was a wreck, filled with cast-off machinery and rotting hay and feed. The corral outside was falling down. Fences needed mending, boards needed replacing. The entire place showed more than one year of neglect.
“And now it’s mine,” he said aloud and felt a momentary surge of triumph. He’d beaten Sarge. Despite his father’s efforts, he’d succeeded in inheriting the place that he’d always told himself he hated.
And now what he felt more than anything was guilt as he thought of the woman who had agreed to be his “bride.” The passing years had been good to Lana. She had only grown more lovely than he remembered. She deserved more than a temporary husband and single parenthood.
He plucked a piece of hay from the bale and worried it between his fingers, his mind racing back in time, remembering the thirteen-year-old Lana who had befriended the troubled, raging sixteen-year-old he had been.
Even then, at that young age, Lana had emitted a quiet strength, a sweet nature and a sympathetic ear that had drawn him to her despite their three-year age difference. For the year of their friendship, Chance had found a soothing of his anger, a calming of his pain.
In the years since, he’d always entertained a fond gratitude for the young girl who had been his confidante and support for that year of his life.
And how had he repaid her? By agreeing to her crazy idea. She’d fulfilled her end of the bargain and tonight he must fulfill his.
For the first time in his life, something he enjoyed doing, something he’d been told he was quite good at, suddenly seemed daunting. Tonight he had to make love to Lana.
He tossed the broken piece of hay aside and stood once again. Grabbing another handful of nails, he began hammering, at the same time his mind whirled with thoughts of the night to come.
No safe sex tonight. Pregnancy was the desired aftermath. In all his adult life, in all his physical relationships, he’d always been extremely careful to make sure there was not a baby as a result of a night of passion.
Chance had absolutely no desire to be a father. The very idea filled him with anxiety. What he’d learned from his own father’s parenting he never wanted to pass on to anyone else.
But Lana didn’t want a father for her baby, he reminded himself. All she wanted was a sperm donor. He was surprised to realize the whole idea of sleeping with Lana made him nervous.
What if he couldn’t fulfill his end of their bargain? What if he couldn’t perform? He shoved this thought away, knowing if he dwelled on it, he would certainly have a problem when the time came.
Dusk was falling when he made his way back to the house. As he walked into the back door, the mouth-watering scent of roast beef greeted him.
Lana was not in the kitchen, but the table was set for two. He grunted in surprise as he saw that someplace she had dug up a bright yellow tablecloth, and in the center of the table her simple wedding bouquet had been transformed into a sweet-smelling table centerpiece.
A woman’s touch.
A sudden memory flitted through his mind, a distant memory of a blond-haired woman arranging flowers in the center of the table, of her laughter that was bright as sunshine as the scent of rich chocolate chip cookies wafted from the oven.
The memory of his mother stabbed through him. When she’d died, she’d taken all the softness, all the nurturing, all the woman’s touches from this house and from his life.
Lana’s efforts found the hidden place of neglect in his soul and stirred something warm. He turned as she came into the kitchen.
“Oh, you’re back,” she said.
He nodded, suddenly feeling guilty for running out on her, escaping to do work