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  * * * * *

  The first Monday in August, Rick lifted his face to the hot sun, smiled and dangled his bare legs off the end of the dock. A motorboat cruised by and he waved at Brenna’s neighbors who owned the cottage three lots down from hers.

  “You did a great job.” Brenna sat beside him, handed him a glass of lemonade and rubbed at the smear of paint on his arm. With his free hand he held the glass against his forehead, enjoying the clinking sound of the ice inside. “I don’t think the chairs will even need a second coat of paint.”

  Together they looked over the two wooden Muskoka chairs. Sheets of newspaper protected the dock from the freshly painted legs.

  “It’s hot today,” she pressed. “You should pace yourself. I know we’ve got three weeks of vacation but still.”

  “I want to put a second coat on,” he said and sighed with pleasure as he swallowed his first sip of cold lemonade. “It’ll protect them better and maybe I can get away without painting them again for another couple of seasons.”

  “Speaking of that,” Brenna said with what sounded like nervousness.

  He tipped his head and watched her expectantly.

  “We haven’t talked about the future much. I’m sorry you left your practice. If I hadn’t—”

  “What?” he interrupted her gently. “If you hadn’t taken up with me, Harlan never would have outed me and I could still be where I was? Fighting Toronto traffic every day, breathing in polluted air and living in a high-rise where I was completely removed from everything and everyone? Sad-ass lonely and eating frozen dinners.” He shook his head. “Yeah, that would have been so much better.” Rick leaned his shoulder into hers. “My partners are great people. It’s me who gets bent out of shape because they know what you and I do in private. They never said anything,” he added quickly, answering the unspoken question he could see hovering behind those blue eyes of hers. “And they don’t treat me differently. But things had changed for me and getting out was the only way I could live my life with any illusion of dignity.”

  “All right. I accept that. We’ve already agreed we’ll still go to the club maybe once a month. If we didn’t, I think Malcolm would threaten to beat us over the head,” she added with a crooked grin. “Not to change the subject but how did you get on the guest list at the club anyway? People only hear about it by discreet word of mouth. Neither you nor Malcolm ever mentioned a friend who introduced you.”

  “Somebody slipped me a card with their 1-800 number on it.” He reached for his wallet.

  “There is no 1-800 number.”

  “Sure there is. There was a message written on the back in a woman’s handwriting. At first I thought it was yours but it doesn’t match.” He hunted around for the card and frowned. He knew it was in there. He’d seen it just the other day. Suddenly, something told him he’d never see the card again. That wasn’t a bad thing. He just hoped it would find its way into the hands of somebody who needed it as much as he had.

  “Seriously, Rick, there’s no 1-800 number.”

  “Huh. Must have been magic then.”

  “Must have been,” she said as if she was mollifying a mental patient, then grew serious again. “But back to your work, you’re too good at what you do to give it up.”

  “That and I’ve got a mortgage and a car lease,” he added wryly. He took another sip of lemonade then set the glass down beside himself.

  She grinned. “I don’t want to put you on the spot or anything but have you considered moving up here? We could spend more time together, the commute’s easier, Peterborough’s got two hospitals and they’re desperate for more doctors, we could spend more time together…”

  Careful not to get paint on her, he looped his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know,” he hedged. “I mean I love you and all but I think the only way I’d let you talk me into it was if you were asking me to live here. With you. If you were willing to make an honest man out of me, maybe, but—”

  “Stop toying with me,” she blurted out.

  “All right.” He nodded sharply. “Will you marry me?”

  He liked the expression on her face. It told him he’d just shocked the hell out of her.

  “Yes.” Her voice was soft and full of the kind of love he’d given up hope of finding for himself at one time.

  “Good. That means I can give you the ring I’ve got hidden in the back of the closet.”

  She hugged him, spilled most of her drink and kissed him with enough passion his cock started to lengthen. “But what about a job?” she asked suddenly.

  Tightening his hold on her body, he dropped his forehead to hers. “Yeah. About that. I’ve got an interview tomorrow with the chief of staff at Peterborough Regional Health Centre.” He dragged his fingernail across a drop of paint on his shin. “I’ll need to clean up before I go but if I’m lucky, a lovely lady with great hands will help me with that.”

  “With pleasure. Although you’ve earned a punishment for keeping secrets from me.”

  Rick stood, smiled down at her, took her hand and led her back up to the house. “I was kind of counting on that.”

  About Gwen Campbell

  Gwen Campbell lives in Canada and got her start in the magazine industry, writing everything from news stories to obituaries. A life-long believer in romance, she’s combined her two passions and now focuses on romantic fiction. Gwen is married and she and her husband contribute the success of their relationship to making a point of saying “I love you” at least once a day, sometimes saying “yes, dear” just because, and making sure the toilet paper always comes over the top of the roll.

  Gwen claims that her best sticky-plot resolutions come to her while dog walking.

  Gwen welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Gwen Campbell

  Final Justice

  Seduced by Silver

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Angel in Leather

  ISBN 9781419935886

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Angel in Leather Copyright © 2013 Gwen Campbell

  Edited by Ann Leveille

  Cover design and photography by Syneca

  Additional cover photography Elisanthe/Shutterstock.com

  Electronic book Publication May 2013

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