My Fair Fortune

She grabbed his hand, and he led her toward the open field by the pond.

When they stopped, they turned their attention up to the sky.

“This is a rather slow shower,” he said. “There may only be four or five meteors per hour.”

“What should we do to entertain ourselves in the meantime?” Her voice was low and raspy. There was something in her tone that made him want to suggest all kinds of inappropriate things. She seemed to read his thoughts because she reached out and ran her thumb over his bottom lip. He was still holding the champagne bottle and the glasses when she leaned in and brushed a kiss over his lips.

“If you want to do something like this,” she said, “I wouldn’t object.”

Before he could stop himself, he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and teased it with his tongue.

“How about something like that?” he asked, his mouth a breath away from hers.

“That? Oh, yes, definitely that. And more, I hope. But first I’ll need a glass of champagne.”

He spread his jacket on the ground, and they sat down on it. He popped the cork and poured them each a glass of bubbly. They clinked glasses and settled into the silence of the first sip. He reached out and brushed a strand of long, dark hair off her shoulder.

She inhaled a quick breath and seemed suddenly shy. Even though he was dying to kiss her again...and again and again, he knew he’d be smart to slow things down until he was sure she was comfortable.

He gazed up at the sky for a moment, searching, until he found what he was looking for.

“See those three stars in a row that are close together?”

He leaned in so that she could follow where he was pointing.

She didn’t pull away.

“That’s Orion’s belt. Do you know the legend of Orion and Merope?”

She shook her head.

“Orion, the great hunter, fell in love with Merope. He made a business deal with her father. In exchange for clearing the land of all the savage beasts, Orion would have Merope’s hand in marriage, but Merope’s dad reneged and wouldn’t let Orion marry his daughter.”

“Poor Orion,” she said.

“Yes, the poor guy was stricken with such sadness. He couldn’t get the girl off his mind. He wasn’t watching where he was going and stepped on a scorpion and died.”

She slanted him a dubious glance. “It that really how the story goes? I thought there was more to it.”

“I thought you didn’t know the story,” he said.

“I wanted to hear your version,” she said, leaning into him. “I was hoping you’d make it a love story.”

“Oh, it is.” He clamped his mouth shut before he could add something stupid like this is a real-life love story, sweetheart. Love hurts.

Instead, he continued. “The gods took pity, and they immortalized him and his dogs up in the sky as constellations.”

He outlined the stars with his finger.

“They put all of the animals he hunted up there near him—like the rabbit and the bull. But they put the scorpion all the way on the opposite side of the sky so Orion would never be hurt again.”

“What about Merope? What happened to her?”

“She’s still there. She’s a star that rides the shoulders of the bull. So he can always see her.”

“You have a romantic heart,” she said.

“Funny, others have claimed I don’t have a heart.”

“Well, they were mistaken, my romantic astronomy nerd.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. Her hair smelled so good he breathed in trying to identify the fragrance...it was something floral...and sweet. The combination was intoxicating. He thought he could live happily here. Just the two of them sitting close, sipping champagne under the inky starlit sky.

He slid his arm around her shoulder, ran his hand down the length of her arm. She tilted her head up and leaned in closer, tempting him. His lips found hers, and this time the kiss wasn’t quite so gentle. She responded, her body pressing against his. The way they fit together might have brought to mind tired clichés like puzzle pieces or bugs in a rug, but he was too caught up in her to give it much thought.

All he could focus on was the feel of her...the taste of her...the all-consuming thought of what it would be like to make love to her...their bodies even closer than they were right now. Him buried deep inside her. Them moving to their own private rhythm.

He heard a sound—a low, guttural rumble—and realized he was the one making the noise. As if the force was driving him, he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted like the champagne they’d shared. But there was something else...something uniquely her. And it was threatening to drive him crazy.

His hands slid from her hair down her shoulders, and he closed his arms around her, pulling her closer. He memorized the feel of her as he lowered her back, onto the ground.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a brief moment of clarity. He would never force her to do anything that made her uncomfortable. “Is this...okay?”

“I’ve never been better.” She smiled up at him. “I have a feeling I’m going to be even better very soon. So please don’t stop now.”

He held her gaze for a moment, until little pinpricks of longing injected him with a need so powerful it had him seeing stars. When he reclaimed her lips, it lifted him off the ground and into the heavens of lusty bliss. When was the last time he’d wanted a woman so badly that it bordered on greed?

On need...

He unbuttoned her coat and slipped his hands inside, savoring every inch of her—her tiny waist, her sexy hips. That red dress was all that stood between him and that glorious body. He slid his hands back up her torso, around her rib cage and paused underneath her breasts, giving her one more chance to slow things down, if she wanted.

God, he hoped she wouldn’t.

When she deepened the kiss and pulled him closer, stretching one long leg out, crossing it over his, he knew she wasn’t going anywhere without him tonight.

That’s when what little control he had left shattered.

He eased her down onto his jacket, taking care that his touch wasn’t as rough and desperate as he felt. When he covered her with his body, the only thing he was aware of was how her lips and tongue were doing amazing things to his mouth. When his hand slipped under the neckline of her dress and his fingers found their way to her breast beneath her bra, she moaned, a muffled sound under his lips.

“You okay?” he said, resting his forehead on hers. “If you want, we can stop.”

* * *

She appreciated his concern. He was a gentleman, but she didn’t want to talk.

She didn’t want to stop, and she didn’t want to talk about it.

Because if they started talking, she might try to explain herself.