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Expecting His Child
Leanne Banks
Noah Was Haunted By Her Memory.
Thoughts of her interrupted his sleep.
He eyed the door of Martina Logan’s condo with a feeling of satisfaction and cynicism. The woman had made love to him like a firestorm for three of the most insane, yet oddly fulfilling weeks of his life, then abruptly disappeared. It became his mission to find her and exorcise her from his mind.
His relief would come from seeing that she wasn’t nearly the woman he’d thought her to be. He pressed the doorbell twice.
“Just a minute,” her voice called, and his gut twisted at the sound. The door opened, and her eyes met Noah’s, her mouth forming an O of surprise.
Noah drank in the sight of her, her dark, tousled hair, shocked blue eyes, long throat, full breasts—and fuller tummy.
Much fuller tummy. Martina was pregnant.
Whose baby? Could it be his? His mind asked the questions, but his gut knew the important answer.
It was his baby….
Expecting His Child
Leanne Banks
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LEANNE BANKS
is a national number-one bestselling author of romance. She lives in her native Virginia with her husband and son and daughter. Recognized for both her sensual and humorous writing with two Career Achievement Awards from Romantic Times Magazine, Leanne likes creating a story with a few grins, a generous kick of sensuality and characters that hang around after the book is finished. Leanne believes romance readers are the best readers in the world because they understand that love is the greatest miracle of all. You can write to her at P.O. Box 1442, Midlothian, VA 23113. An SASE for a reply would be greatly appreciated.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Prologue
He thundered across the dusty Texas soil on the back of a black stallion like an avenging angel. Panic flooded her bloodstream. Martina Logan quickly backed away from the crowd of wedding guests and hid behind a tree. The guests at her brother’s outdoor wedding gasped and murmured. Not many would be able to identify him from this distance, but Martina could. Her eyes didn’t need to tell her; her heart did the trick, pounding erratically against her rib cage.
Noah Coltrane.
Noah slowed the stallion and guided the impressive animal to the vacated dance area. He scanned the crowd and Martina tried to make herself shrink. Her brother Tyler spoke up. “What do you want, Noah?”
“I’m here to see Martina.”
Her stomach dipped to her knees and she prayed he wouldn’t see her. She wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet.
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Tyler said. “Get off the property. Can’t you see we’re having a wedding?”
“That means she’s here,” Noah said, surveying the crowd once again.
“Buy a vowel,” Tyler said. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
Martina closed her eyes during the long pause that followed.
“I will see her,” Noah finally said, the hard resolve in his voice giving her a chill. “Give her that message.”
Trembling, Martina stole a private moment and covered her face with her hands. A dozen images raced through her mind. Months ago, hearing Noah’s Texas drawl on the stalled El in Chicago had reminded her how far from home she was. Hearing his voice had rubbed at an empty spot, and she had turned around to see the most fascinating man she’d ever met.
Noah was not the usual cowboy. Not only did he rope and ride, he also fenced and traded cattle options on the Chicago exchange. When they’d met, Martina had been temporarily assigned to a computer company in the Windy City while Noah was taking a course in commodities. He’d charmed her and made her feel comfortable before revealing his name.
Martina still remembered the regret she’d felt and seen echoed on his face when they’d realized their families hated each other. There was enough bad blood between the two ranching families to fill the Red Sea. It was bad enough that his family and hers had quarreled for generations over the stream their ranches shared. What sealed the grudge was the fact that Noah’s great-grandfather had tried to steal the wife of Martina’s great-grandfather, and during the course of it all, the Logan bride had died.
Still, Noah had suggested with a wry chuckle that since they weren’t in Texas, they could pretend their last names were different.
He was the biggest no-no she’d ever said yes to. It had been all too easy to fall for him, and the memory of the passion and laughter they’d shared still made her weak. But reality and family loyalty had eventually crept in. Their affair had ended as quickly as it began. Martina, however, had been left with the consequences of her temporary insanity called Noah Coltrane.
Martina bit her lip and opened her eyes. She touched her abdomen swollen with Noah’s child. She dreaded the day she would have to face him. She knew it was coming. Noah Coltrane would always be her biggest no-no. Her favorite mistake.
One
He’d finally found her. Six weeks after he’d crashed her brother’s wedding, Noah eyed Martina Logan’s condo with a feeling of satisfaction and cynicism. The woman had made love to him like a firestorm for three of the most insane, yet oddly fulfilling weeks of his life, then abruptly disappeared.
Her leaving had stung his ego and he hadn’t gone after her. He would forget her, he’d told himself. After all, with so much bad blood between their families, they’d both known the relationship was doomed from the start. But he’d seen a fire of independence in Martina’s eyes that echoed in his gut, and he hadn’t wanted to resist.
As the days passed after she’d left, Noah was haunted by her memory. Thoughts of her interrupted his sleep. It stuck in his craw when he made a few small attempts to locate her and couldn’t.
Then it became his mission to find her and to exorcise her from his mind. His peace would come from looking into her eyes and letting her see that she couldn’t hide from him. His relief would come from seeing that she wasn’t nearly the woman he’d thought her to be. Then he would be on his way.
Walking toward her front door, he idly noticed the scrape of his boots against the hot pavement and the deceptively peaceful sound of birds chirping in the late-spring morning. He paused on her doorstep and, pushing aside the feeling that all hell was about to break loose, he pressed the doorbell twice.
“Just a minute,” her voice called, and his gut twisted at the sound. He heard her footsteps and voice grow louder as she came closer.
“Yes, I’m keeping my appointments. I’m fine,” she said, opening the door. “I’m—” Her eyes met Noah’s and her mouth formed an O of surprise. Her jaw worked, but no sound came out. He watched her swallow. “I…I…I’ve got to go,” she said, and pushed a button to disconnect.
Noah drank in the sight of her—her dark, tousled hair, shocked blue eyes, worried mouth, long throat, full breasts and fuller tummy.
Much fuller tummy.
The implication of her change in size triggered a dozen questions inside him. Martina was pregnant.
Whose baby?
Could it be his?
How far along was she?
His mind asked the questions, but his gut knew the important answer.
“I’ve gained weight,” she said, smiling brightly enough to almost blind him. Almost, but Noah noticed the protective way she covered her abdomen with her hand. “You know how that goes. Some people just seem to gain it all in one place.” She pushed her other hand through her hair and blinked innocently. “I can’t imagine what would bring you here.”
Noah struggled with the images that raced through his mind. Images where she had been laid bare beneath him, crying out his name. Images where she had looked into his eyes and he had gotten lost in the depths of her. At the time, he could have sworn she’d been equally lost in him.
“When did you start gaining the weight, Martina?” he asked. “About eight to twelve weeks after the last time you were with me? You must be over six months pregnant.”
Her smile slipped slightly. “I don’t remember when I started gaining weight,” she said.
Another way of pleading the Fifth, Noah thought cynically. “And I’ll bet you’ll lose a lot of this weight suddenly,” he said, his emotions roiling like the Galveston beach before a storm.
“The baby’s mine, isn’t it,” he said, cutting through her ridiculous story. He decided this situation was going to require the best combination of his instincts and brain.
She dropped her hand from her hair and clasped both of her palms in front of her abdomen. Her gaze narrowed and her eyes glinted with a mixture of fear and fight. “My baby,” she corrected. “Who told you?”
“No one. I looked at you and knew,” he said, his entire body clenching with the knowledge that Martina was carrying his baby. “You need to let me in,” he said, surprised at the calm tone of his voice. He felt as if she had set off a bomb inside him.
Martina bristled. “This isn’t a good time. I’m busy working right now. My company is allowing me to design web pages from home, but I do have deadlines.”
“When is a good time?” Noah asked, baiting her. “Next year?”
Martina’s smile vanished and she set her chin. “Next year is too soon.”
It occurred to Noah that this woman could have easily inspired the saying Don’t mess with Texas. She tried to close the screen door in his face, but he caught it with his boot. “I’m not going away.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m over my quota of pushy, overbearing men in my life. I don’t respond well to force.”
He nodded. “Good,” he said. “I only use force as a last resort when I’m dealing with someone who is being unreasonable.”
She looked at him with skepticism, but stepped away from the door.
Martina had dreaded this day. She’d known she would have to tell Noah about the baby someday. She’d decided an e-mail, fax or message sent by carrier pigeon would be much preferable to a face-to-face confrontation. The time had never seemed right. As a rule she didn’t procrastinate, but she’d broken several rules by getting involved with Noah in the first place.
As he walked past her, she remembered some of the silly reasons she’d allowed herself to get involved with him. His height. She’d always been tall, and it had felt good to be held by a man several inches taller. She’d liked the way he smelled—of leather and spicy musk. She’d liked the sound of his voice and the way his mind worked.
After living with a father and two brothers determined to protect, defend and dominate her, being with a reasonable man who treated her as an equal had gone to her head like too much tequila.
Martina had the unnerving intuition that she might not be able to count on Noah to be reasonable right now.
He glanced around her den, then walked toward her. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the formidable expression on his face.
“When were you going to tell me?” he asked in a calm voice at odds with the turbulence in his eyes.
Her stomach fluttered with nerves. “I was going to tell you. I just hadn’t figured out how.”
“When? After the baby was born? After our child took first steps or went to school? Or reached legal age?”
The sense of betrayal in his voice scraped at her. She struggled with shame and frustration. “I should have told you. It would have been the right thing to do, but it was wrong to get involved with you in the first place. When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t believe it was true. I had to come to terms with it on my own.”
“If you’d told me, you wouldn’t have had to do anything alone,” he told her.
Martina’s heart hurt as a dozen memories slammed through her. “We knew when we got involved that it couldn’t last. You said we could pretend while we were in Chicago. You never talked about a future with me because you knew there wouldn’t be one.”
He rested his hands on his hips. “The baby changes things.”
Her stomach sank at the determination in his voice. “For me and maybe for you, but not for us.”
“You should have told me.”
“Yes, well, I had to get used to the idea first. And having my brothers find out a Coltrane was the father…” She broke off and grimaced at the memory of that confrontation.
“What’d they do?” Noah asked. “Look at you like you were giving birth to the anti-Christ?”
“At first,” she said. “But I set them straight.”
“Who did you tell them was the father?”
“I told them the stork did it,” she said, but the flip remark didn’t work its charm. “When you showed up at my brother’s wedding like the Lone Ranger, it became difficult to deny paternity.” She took a careful breath. “I have handled this on my own. I got through the shock and morning sickness and everything else on my own. I’m strong. I can handle the rest alone, too.”
He gave a wry half smile that somehow looked dangerous. “We never got around to discussing children, but I have some definite opinions on the subject. The first is that the parents should be married. You and I should marry as soon as possible.”
Martina gaped at him. If he hadn’t been dead serious, she would have laughed. “You must not have heard me. I have put up with three domineering men in my life—my father and brothers—and I am not interested in tying myself till death do us part to another.”
“This baby deserves two parents. Both of us will want to be involved in raising the child. I don’t walk away from my responsibilities.”
There wasn’t an ounce of give in his voice, but he struck on one issue she’d been unable to resolve in her heart and mind. Martina wanted the best for her child, but she couldn’t marry Noah. “We can work out visitation,” she began, trying to pump conviction into her tone.
“That’s another thing that’s stupid. It’s crazy for you to live alone here in Dallas when you can live at my family ranch.”
Everything inside her balked. “Now I know you’re insane. Have you forgotten that my family home borders your property? Do you think my brothers and your brothers are going to have a party over this? I don’t think so. Plus, there is the Logan curse. Women bearing the Logan name have shown an annoying tendency to kick the bucket when they fall in love and get married. I’ll admit I never thought the curse applied to me, but on the off chance that it does, I have a pretty powerful reason to stay alive and healthy. My baby.”
Noah stood there silently. He looked as if he was reining himself in, processing every word she’d said. Planning.
Martina felt a sinking sensation, but kept her back ramrod straight. She was no sissy, she told herself. She could handle Noah Coltrane.
“We’ll talk again,” he said, pulling out a pen and business card and scratching some numbers on the back of it. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. Cell number’s on the back.” He met her gaze again. “You said your family curse means a Logan woman will die when she marries. You forget. When you marry me, you won’t be a Logan woman. You’ll be a Coltrane.”
“When cows do algebra,” she fumed as she watched Noah walk out her door. “I’ll be a Coltrane when Texans stop arguing over water rights, when your brothers and my brothers give each other big hugs, which will be never,” she continued, even though she was only talking to the air that Noah had breathed and the space he had invaded. His presence was still disturbing even though he was gone. “I’ll be a Coltrane when the stars fall over West Texas.”
Noah had so much adrenaline pumping through his veins that he could easily have snapped the steering wheel of his Tahoe in half. He had impregnated the most unreasonable, stubborn woman in Texas, and he had a feeling it was going to take everything he had to corral her and bring her and the baby to the Coltrane ranch where they belonged.
A part of him wondered if the Indian mystic in him had sensed something important had happened to Martina. He wondered if that was what had kept him awake nights. Although Noah knew he was the most modern of the Coltranes, he also suspected the trace of Indian blood in his veins gave him instincts not so easily explained.
He sighed in disgust. It would be nice if those Indian instincts could provide something more useful than a sleepless night, something like an easy way to win Martina over.
To persuade her, he was going to have to see this from her point of view. Noah knew he was more open-minded than his brothers, but he wasn’t sure he could think like a woman, God help him. Especially when every drop of primitive protectiveness and possessiveness raged to the surface when he remembered that Martina was carrying his child.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled into the dusty drive to the main ranch house. On a normal day, he felt a sense of well-being every time he came home. Zachary Tremont, former ranch foreman, had always told Noah that if he grew still and quiet, he would hear the voice of welcome when he was in the right place. Zachary was probably the reason none of the Coltrane boys had ended up in prison. Their father, Joe, had been a drunk, a mean one at that, and their mother, a strict churchgoer, had died of cancer. The union hadn’t exactly produced a pleasant home environment.
One good thing Joe had done just before he passed away, though, was to hire Zachary. During his time at the Coltrane ranch, Zachary had taught Noah and his brothers the discipline of fencing. More importantly, he had taught each of the boys about honor and the importance of finding and honoring his individual purpose.
Noah missed Zachary and would have traded his most valuable antique sword for a chance to talk to the man now. But Zachary had left when Noah’s brother Adam grew old enough to manage the ranch, insisting it was time for him to move on.
Noah glanced at the recently remodeled and expanded ranch house and waited for the feeling of welcome. On a normal day, he felt the warmth of it curl in his stomach and flow through his blood.
This, however, was not a normal day. His brothers were not going to have a party over his news. A riot was more likely.
He waited until everyone had eaten dinner. Adam was downing a third beer, Jonathan was leaning back with his eyes closed, and Gideon was lighting a cigar.
“We need to make plans for an addition,” Noah said.
Adam glanced at him quizzically. “Another one? We’ve already built bunkhouses for the fencing camps and roundup weekends you want to run.”
“We can wait. I don’t want anyone touching the house,” Gideon said. “I’m sick of falling over contractors. I want to smoke cigars in peace.”
“Then take them outside,” Jonathan muttered, his eyes still closed. He wasn’t fond of Gideon’s trendy habit.
“It’s not a building,” Noah said. “It’s a baby.”
Complete silence reigned. Jonathan’s eyes popped open. Adam and Gideon stared at Noah.
“Whose baby?” Adam asked in a low voice.
“Mine,” Noah said, and called to the cook. “Patch, you mind bringing in that good bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses?”
Jonathan, the brother to whom Noah felt closest, had the most even temperament and was by far the most intuitive. “You’re not drinking?”
“Not yet,” Noah said, and poured the whiskey.
“Congratulations,” Gideon said with a sly grin and swallowed his shot. “Does this baby come with a woman?”
“Yeah,” Noah said. “Martina Logan.”
Jonathan dropped his shot glass. Adam and Gideon stared at Noah in disbelief.
“You better be joking,” Adam said.
“I’m not. She’s carrying my baby. We met in Chicago. She’s not like her brothers,” Noah said, then remembered her scorching refusal to his proposal this morning. “In some ways, she’s worse,” he said with a wry laugh. “But I’m going to marry her, bring her here to live, and we’re going to raise the baby here.”
Adam and Gideon stood. “You’ve gone way too far this time,” Adam said. “The Coltranes have nothing to do with the Logans. We don’t date ’em. We don’t marry ’em. We don’t get ’em pregnant. Hell, we don’t speak to ’em.”
“Too late,” Noah said.
Swearing, Gideon grabbed Noah by the shirt collar. “It’s not too late. Tell her to get rid—”
Instinct raged through him, and Noah pushed his brother away. “I don’t want to ever hear that from you or any of you again.”
Adam shook his head. “You’ve gone too far,” he said. “I’m cutting you out of the ranch. Just leave and don’t come back.”
Noah glanced at Jonathan and read the distress and disappointment on his face. His gut wrenched at the thought of leaving. “Okay. I guess that means you don’t need the money I make for the ranch by trading cattle futures and leasing the hunting rights.”
Adam cursed under his breath. “You know that money has bailed us out during a bad year.” He shook his head again. “Now how could you make such a huge mistake?”
“I dislike the Logans as much as you do, but I’ve been dealt a new hand of cards, and I have to do what’s right. We’ve all spent most of our lives living down the bad decisions our father, or his father, or his father made. I’m not gonna keep making bad decisions. This baby’s no mistake.”
Adam and Gideon glared at him in hostile silence.
Jonathan sighed and broke the angry, tense silence. “I wonder what Zachary would say right now,” he mused in a calm voice that was like cool water on flames.
Noah immediately saw the change in his brothers’ faces. Adam exhaled and viewed him with grudging acceptance.
Gideon looked away, clearly ashamed. “Sorry I said that about getting rid…” He broke off. “Sorry,” he said. True to form, he was quick to anger, but usually quick to apologize. “I’m going for a walk.”
“I’m going to bed,” Adam said.
Noah stood in the dining room with only Jonathan. Jonathan reached for the bottle of whisky, poured a shot into his glass and held it out for Noah to take. “I like a lot of your ideas and innovations,” he said. “When Adam balked, I could see you were going to do good things. I always envied how you could think outside the box. But I gotta tell you—this isn’t outside the box. It’s not outside the county or the state. It’s outside the universe. So what was it? Temporary insanity?”
Noah swallowed the liquor, feeling the fire all the way down his throat and chest into his stomach. “Maybe,” he said, and met Jonathan’s gaze. “It felt right.”
Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. “How could it possibly?”
“I’m not sure I can explain it. The same way it feels right for you to train horses. Why aren’t you hollering or taking a swing at me?”
Jonathan covered a faint grin with his hand. “Based on my limited experience with the Logans, I’m just guessing that Martina Logan is gonna torture you more than I ever could.”
Noah gave a wry chuckle. “Maybe.”
“How does she feel about getting married?”
“She’s getting used to the idea,” Noah said, thinking that wasn’t anywhere near the truth. It must have shown.
“She flat out turned you down,” Jonathan concluded.
Noah nodded. “She did. But I’ve had a lot of practice turning no into yes.”
Two
“Thanks for helping with the groceries, Rodney,” Martina said as she pushed the key into her front door.
“No problem,” her neighbor said. “I—Excuse me, who?”
“I’m the father of her baby,” a familiar voice said from behind her, heating her to the core with the simple statement.
Martina’s stomach dipped. She had thought he wouldn’t be back for at least a week or two. Wishful thinking. She turned quickly and met Noah’s gaze, noting the fact that he, instead of Rodney, was carrying her grocery bags.
“What a surprise,” she finally managed.
Rodney eyed Noah with suspicion.
“Rodney, this is Noah.” She took a deep breath. She rebelled at using Noah’s words. They were primal, possessive, and emphasized the connection between them, a connection Martina preferred to diminish. “He, uh, contributed genetic material,” she said, and forced a smile. “Thanks again for helping.”
“Any time,” Rodney said with a nod and curious glance at Noah.
“What brings you here?” she asked Noah after Rodney left.
“You.” Noah caught the door for her and followed her into the kitchen. “You missed me,” he said, his voice holding a mix of sexy humor.
Martina’s lips twitched and she put her bag on the counter. “Like I miss morning sickness.”
“Did you have much of it?” he asked more seriously.
“About three weeks when I lived on saltines, soda and vitamins.”
“And now?”
She turned to face him. “Now I’m just really big.”
His gaze fell over her, lingering on her breasts, tummy and legs. “Just in a few places,” he said. “Pregnancy looks good on you.”
The way he looked at her reminded her of the passion they’d shared and the way he had taken her body. The way he looked at her reminded her of how much she had wanted him. Martina pushed the thought from her mind and turned back around to put away the groceries. “You didn’t really say what you wanted.”
“Yes, I did,” he said. “You.”
Her heart jumped and she nearly dropped a carton of eggs. “You wanted to talk to me about something,” she quickly corrected for his benefit and hers.
“Have you thought any more about my proposal?”
She mentally put on her armor as she put away the groceries. “I don’t recall any proposals.”
“For you to marry me,” he told her calmly.
“You didn’t ever really ask,” she said. “You ordered.”
“Will you marry me?”
“No,” she said as quickly as he’d asked.
He sighed and she reluctantly met his gaze. “Do you think you are doing the best thing for the baby to not have me involved at all?”
She opened her mouth to say yes, but a strong inner integrity defeated her. She closed her mouth.
“Do you think the best thing for this baby is to have two parents married to each other living in the same home?”
Martina had admired his insight before. Now it got under her skin. “In general, yes, but we have a special circumstance. Our families have held a grudge against each other for over a hundred years.”
“What’s more important? A grudge or the welfare of our child?”
Martina shook her head. “There’s more involved and you know it. You and I wanted each other temporarily. We knew we weren’t looking for anything permanent. There’s a big difference between what is good on a temporary basis and what is good forever.”
Noah walked toward her, his eyes glinting. “Are you saying I’m not good husband material?”
Each step he took closer packed a wallop on her nerve endings. His intensity, his confidence, his personality, his aura had been and still were entirely too sexy for her own good. She lifted her chin. “Yes, I am. There’s a big difference between a lover and a husband. As a husband, I can already tell you’ll pull the same kind of caveman routines my brothers do. You’ll order me around and tell me what to do and expect me to be a good, submissive wife. I’m too independent for that. While you may have been an—” she took a breath and wished for a fan “—incredible lover, you wouldn’t work for me as a husband,” she said, “at all.”
She needed to make that clear to him, to her, to the entire free world, all Third World countries and any planets inhabited by intelligent life.
He put his hands on the counter on either side of her, crowding her. “You’re assuming I’ll act that way. You don’t know that I will. You really only have your experience to judge me. So tell me, what did I do wrong?”
Martina stared into his eyes and bit her lip to keep from repeating the words that flooded her brain. You were too sexy. You made me melt. You made me feel more like a woman than I’ve ever felt in my life. You made me feel like the most desirable woman in the world. You made me fall so hard I almost couldn’t get back up. You made me feel so much for you so fast. You terrified me.
She tore her gaze from his and stared down at his boots. “You have the wrong last name. And you have given signs that you would try to rule me,” she told him. “You tried to order me to marry you and come live with you.”
“What was your reaction when you found out you were pregnant?”
Martina remembered the bloodcurdling scream she’d let out once she’d left the doctor’s office and closed herself in her car. “Okay, I’ll admit it wasn’t a quiet, rational response.”
“How many decibels?”
She frowned at him. “I don’t know. I just remember wondering if I’d permanently broken my larynx.” She smiled. “But as you can see, I didn’t.”
“The point is, your first response wasn’t the most rational. My first instinct was and is to protect.” His gaze drifted over her body, warming her. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, as long as you don’t go overboard.”
“And you don’t think you’ll go overboard protecting our baby?”
Martina’s chest tightened. She was already feeling overprotective of the precious life inside her. “It’s my job to protect.”
“Mine, too,” he said, lifting his hand to cup her chin. “I won’t forget it,” he told her, and everything about him, his voice, his determined eyes, his posture, made an oath.
Martina felt a sinking sensation. This was why she hadn’t wanted to tell him. She had known Noah wouldn’t abandon his child, and her life would be intertwined with his for the rest of her days. She just wasn’t sure she could see him on a regular basis and keep her good sense intact. Lifting her head away, she steeled her mind against him. “That’s nice, but—”
“And it’s part of the reason I’m here,” he said, dropping his hand to his hip, but still crowding her. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you, and there’s a lot you don’t know about me. You may not want to marry me, but we’re still having a baby together. In that case, we’ve got a lot to learn about each other.”
Martina hadn’t thought her stomach could sink any lower. “What are you saying?”
“We need to get to know each other. We need to spend some time together.”
No, no, no, no, no. Sliding past him would have been much easier if she hadn’t been seven months pregnant. Martina gently nudged him away. “I hate for you to have to drive so far for something that shouldn’t take much time. Don’t you think a résumé would work just as well?”
“No.”
“We could write each other. E-mail,” she said enthusiastically. “Everyone keeps in touch through e-mail these days.”
He shook his head. “If this were the Old West, I could haul you off and carry you home. Sadly, in this case, those days are gone,” he muttered under his breath. “I know you as a lover. I know what makes you—” his eyes darkened in remembrance “—go,” he finished. “But I need to know more than that. I need to know the mother of my child.”
His gaze cut through her, and Martina had a terrible premonition that having Noah know her could be more dangerous for her than making love with him had been. His intensity made the prospect feel unbearably intimate. Oh, hell, Martina thought, wanting to kick something. How was she supposed to refuse that request?
He moved closer, leaning on his uplifted arm against the wall beside her. “We might as well start with the hard stuff.”
Hard stuff, Martina thought. That would be you. “What’s that?” she asked warily.
“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” he asked.
A rush of relief raced through her. Martina was so relieved she was almost charmed. Almost, but she was determined to stay on guard.
“En garde!” Gideon cried, and lunged toward Noah. Gideon, whose temper flared quickly but cooled with equal speed, had gotten past his anger and was more than willing to try to best his older brother in a duel.
The parry, the clash and scrape of metal swordplay had been one of the best ways for Noah to let off steam since Zachary had taught him and his brothers to fence in the old barn.
“Rough afternoon with the Logan princess?” Gideon goaded him with a smile.
Noah plunged past his younger brother’s defense to touch his chest. He contributed genetic material. Every time Martina’s flip words played through his mind, his head roared with anger.
Gideon nodded wryly at the point and backed away slightly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It could have been worse,” Noah said with a short nod. “Ready?” he asked, and they began again.
“In other words, she didn’t sic her brothers on you,” Gideon said.
“Compared to Martina, her brothers are cake. We’ve at least been able to reason with Brock Logan about wandering cattle and the pond we share. Martina knows what’s best—she just isn’t being reasonable.”
“And what’s best is…?”
Noah stated the obvious. “For us to marry and raise the baby here.”
Gideon touched his rib cage.
“Touché,” Noah said. “Ready.”
“Can’t blame her for hesitating. We’ve never been the favored family of the county,” Gideon said.
“That’s in the past,” Noah insisted. It was one of his greatest passions to put the bad Coltrane reputation in the past and to build a new one based on respect. “All of us have worked to put that in the past.”
“Yeah, but for Pete’s sake, did you have to pick that Logan woman? Why not someone a little more easygoing?”
“You mean a woman who doesn’t have the ability to slice a man to ribbons with her tongue?” Noah asked, pushing Gideon closer to the back wall.
“Yeah,” Gideon said, swinging his sword for all he was worth.
“Someone more submissive,” Noah said, thinking Martina would probably stab them both if she heard this discussion.
“Yeah. It sounds like you might as well be trying to seduce a porcupine,” Gideon said. “A pregnant porcupine.”
Noah lunged and pressed the tip of his sword to the protective material covering Gideon’s heart. Martina might be acting like a porcupine, but Noah had experienced the soft, giving woman behind the quills. He was determined to find that woman again.
“Touché,” his brother said with a shake of his head. “Hell, you make a great case for contraception. What are you going to do?”
“The same thing I do in a fencing match. Find her weakness and exploit it.” Noah knew he sounded ruthless, but he wasn’t playing for fun with Martina. He was playing for blood, his family name and his child.
He found her reclining on a chaise longue in her backyard in the late afternoon. Dressed in shorts and a maternity tank top she’d lifted above her belly while she rested. Her legs were long and lithe, and knowing the baby she carried was his made him want her in an elemental way. Her expression was soft, almost wistful and her gaze was faraway. He remembered how she had once looked at him with passion-drenched eyes, and he wondered what tender thoughts she could be thinking right now.
He walked closer and heard her say, “I look like a beached whale. I can’t even reach my toenails to paint them.”
Noah saw the bottle of nail polish beside her, and his gaze shot to the next yard. He saw a woman wearing a bikini. He bit back a chuckle. “You still have the best legs in Texas,” he said.
She turned her head quickly, and her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. “I, uh, was just—”
“—feeling sorry for yourself,” he finished for her. “I brought Chinese food for dinner. Does it agree with you?”
Martina sighed. “Unfortunately every food agrees with me now. And I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, without an ounce of conviction.
Martina stood. No, really. I—”
“Martina, you are a very beautiful woman, pregnant or not pregnant. You just haven’t had a man around to remind you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, revealing a glimpse of the woman he’d known in Chicago. She took a deep breath. “Don’t flatter me.”
“I won’t,” he assured her. “I just tell the truth. I’d say something else,” he said, allowing his gaze to linger on her full breasts. “But I don’t want you to take a swing at me. You might hurt yourself. Are you hungry for Chinese food or not?”
She blinked and paused as if debating whether to hit him, anyway. “I’m hungry, period. Let’s eat inside. I didn’t expect you,” she said, leading him though the back door to the cool kitchen.
“Didn’t your mother tell you to always expect the unexpected from a Coltrane?”
Her smile wavered. “My mother didn’t get an opportunity to teach me anything about the Coltranes. She died when I was born.”
Noah immediately regretted his joke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“That’s okay. Besides, my father and brothers gave me an earful about the Coltranes.” She plucked the containers of food from the bag.
“I’m sure they did,” he muttered, and carefully voiced his next thought. “I realize you descend from Amazons and you could easily harvest an entire field of corn in the morning, deliver your baby at lunch and finish up another field in the afternoon. But do you ever think you might have problems when you deliver the baby?”
She drummed her fingers on the cabinet. “If you hadn’t included the Amazon part, I would say no. But the truth is, although I don’t worry about it a lot and the doctor says I’m perfectly healthy,” she emphasized, “I think about it every now and then.”
He saw the fleeting vulnerability and longing in her eyes and remembered how he had felt when his mother died. “You still miss the chance of knowing her, don’t you?”
“I would have given anything to know her. I’ve always missed her and I probably always will. I was lucky to have two brothers who tried very hard and awkwardly at times to make up for the loss.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “What about your parents?”
“I think I miss more of what might have been. My parents weren’t happy together.”
Martina lifted her eyebrows. “My parents were crazy about each other. My brothers told me that was why my father never seemed happy after she died. Looking at me was too painful for him, because I reminded him of his loss.”
Noah realized he had known Martina’s mother was dead, but he’d never heard the whole story, and they’d agreed not to speak of their families during their time together in Chicago. It made him see her in a new light. “We had a foreman named Zachary, who taught my brothers and me about being a man. Zachary always said the strongest love survives distance and death, and it always makes you a better man.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying my parents didn’t love each other?”
“I’m saying your dad missed an opportunity to love and be loved by a little girl who could have taken away some of the hurt.”
Martina looked at Noah for a long moment. He could practically see her mind poking at his statement, examining and pondering, then setting it aside. She glanced at the boxes of food on the counter. “Dibs on the sweet ’n’ sour chicken.”
They dug into the food, and Martina didn’t eat nearly as much as Noah had expected. “I thought you were eating for two. You made it sound like you’re eating everything but the living-room furniture.”
“I’m not eating for two. It’s more like I’m eating for one and one-twelfth. Besides, I wanted to save room for ice cream.” She smiled with mischief. “I need my calcium.”
“Have you had an ultrasound yet?”
She nodded as she scooped fudge-swirl ice cream into two bowls. “Two months ago. The way the baby was positioned didn’t reveal its sex, but I have a feeling it will be a—”
“—girl,” he interjected.
“—boy,” she said at the same time with a look of surprise on her face.
“I would have thought you’d have some sort of macho expectation about producing a male,” she said.
“And I would have thought you’d have some sort of feminist expectation about producing a female,” he said. “Both wrong about each other. Looks like we’ve got a long way to go to get to know each other.”
Her face fell. “I still think e-mail is the best solution.”
“It hasn’t been that bad this time,” he said, rising from his chair and walking closer to her. Following an impulse that could get him kicked, bitten or scratched, he lifted her finger to his lips and sucked the ice cream from the tip. Her eyes grew wide and she jerked her hand from his.
“What has made you more reasonable this time?” he asked. “Maybe you like me a little more than you thought you did.”
She took a quick breath and a dozen emotions swept through her blue eyes. Noah would swear one of them was desire. Maybe he was getting through.
“Food,” she said. “It was definitely the food.”
It was definitely not the food that was keeping her awake tonight, Martina thought much later as she threw back the covers on her bed. Every time she closed her eyes, a picture from the first time she and Noah had made love flashed across her mind.
She sat up in bed and sighed, holding her head in her hands and surrendering to the memory for just a moment. They’d eaten Chicago pizza for dinner, then Noah had taken her back to his suite to show her how he traded futures on the Chicago exchange on his laptop. His excitement had been contagious, and after a while, she’d been more caught up in his enthusiasm than his words.
“You’re not listening,” he said, sitting beside her, his thigh rubbing against hers.
Martina felt her cheeks heat. “I was,” she insisted.
“Okay, what happens after the price jumps ten percent?”
“I didn’t know there’d be a quiz.”
He laughed, and the rich, dark sound curled inside her and heated her down to her toes. He tugged her from her chair and pulled her onto his lap. “If you weren’t thinking about futures, then what were you thinking about?”
Bracing herself on his shoulders, she considered dodging the question, but followed another instinct, instead. “I was thinking about you,” she said, lifting her fingers to his solid jaw. “You have such a passion for almost everything you do.”
His eyes darkened and he pressed her fingers to his lips. “More than one person has called me crazy for my ideas.”
“A little crazy is not a bad thing,” Martina said, feeling a relentless urgency grow in her belly and blood.
He sucked her finger into his mouth, and she held her breath while he held her gaze. “I’m getting a passion for Martina.”
“That could be too crazy,” she whispered as he pulled her face closer to his.
“Too late,” he said, and took her mouth.
Martina’s world spun. He had kissed her before, but tonight was different. She felt it in the air, in his touch, inside her. He made love to her mouth, tasting her, seducing her, savoring her until her heart clamored for more. She sank her fingers into his hair, luxuriating in the soft, wavy texture.
He pulled away and she felt almost as if she was in a dream. Giving her a dozen opportunities to stop him, he slowly, deliberately lifted her sweater over her head and unfastened her bra.
“Do you want this?” he asked, touching the aching tips of her breasts with his thumbs.
Her mouth went dry and she closed her eyes. Her heart hammered a mile a minute. There were reasons, very valid reasons, she should stop, but her brain could not produce one of them at this moment. She had never wanted a man so badly in her life. It wasn’t so much his incredible body as much as it was his mind, his very being. The way he thought, the way he acted.
“Yes,” she said, the honesty coming from deep inside her. “I want you.”
He dipped his mouth to one of her nipples and took it into his mouth.
Fire had raced through her, and Martina had bitten back a moan. He would consume her, she’d thought, and a lick of apprehension had mingled with the heat of her desire. He would learn more about her tonight than any man ever had. She would have to keep a part of herself from him. He must never know, she’d decided, that he was her first.
Distress crowded Martina’s throat, and a soft sound escaped, breaking her reverie. Somehow she had been convincing enough that Noah hadn’t guessed. He had been so caught up in their passion that he still didn’t know he had been her first. Unable to sit still one second longer, she rose from her bed. She needed to leave these memories behind, to exorcise them, if only temporarily, from her mind.
She instinctively walked toward the nursery. She hadn’t bought a crib or even painted the baby’s room yet. The only piece of furniture in the room was a toy chest full of odds and ends she’d begun to collect. She knelt beside the light oak chest and touched the infant sleepers, receiving blankets, a stuffed bear, then brought out the little box that made her heart contract and expand every time.
Baby booties.
It was the silliest thing, but the tiny, tiny white booties made it all feel real and right to her. Seeing Noah tonight had confused her, and she didn’t need to feel confused. Martina knew what she had to do. She had to keep her head together and love and raise this baby. She had to resist the urge to lean, especially on Noah. He made her think. Every time he visited her, there was more to like, more to admire, more to want and, in turn, more to fear.
The thought of knowing him more made every muscle in her body tense. It wasn’t just that he was a Coltrane, although heaven knows that was enough. Martina had a feeling in her heart, in her blood, that if she fell for Noah, his being was so big and powerful that he would swallow her and she would simply disappear.
Three
“Have you heard anything from—” Martina’s sister-in-law, Jill asked “—your assistant procreator?”
Martina grinned as the two women carried the results of their shopping trip into her condo. “I like that. Takes a lot of the messy emotion out of it?”
“I wouldn’t want to upset the mother-to-be.”
“By using expressions like former lover, or father of my child, or one of the top five men my brothers most hate.” Martina gritted her teeth. “Thank you.”
“Hate is a strong word,” Jill said, revealing her public-relations background. “Your brothers may not really hate Noah Coltrane. They don’t even know one another.”
“They hate him,” Martina said, stomping upstairs to the nursery. “Brock hates him because he’s a Coltrane and one of their bulls jumped the fence and had entirely too much fun with some of our heifers. It made calving season a real pain because the bull was the wrong size and some of the calves were too big, and then there’s your husband, Dr. Tyler Logan, who used to get into fistfights with Noah on a weekly basis when they were in their teens. And then there’s the small matter that Noah got their baby sister pregnant. Yeah, I would say his name is dirt.”
“But people change and they haven’t truly sat down and talked since they became adults.”
“That’s to prevent bloodshed and eventual death by lethal injection. Texas believes in capital punishment.”
Jill chuckled and put her arms around Martina in a hug. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a little?”
“No,” Martina muttered. “And I’m not exaggerating when I say how nice you are to check on me and go baby shopping with me.” Martina knew Jill was unable to bear children because of an injury from an automobile accident, and her sister-in-law’s continued generosity often brought tears to her eyes. Jill hadn’t allowed her injury to prevent her from being a mother to a child who needed her. She and Tyler had adopted a son as soon as they got married.
Jill’s watery gaze met Martina’s damp one and both women laughed. “At least you can blame this on hormones. I’m really okay. It’s amazing what marrying your brother and adopting Sam have done for me. I just want you and your baby to be healthy and happy.” She sobered. “And I notice you didn’t answer my question about your assistant procreator.”
Martina made a face. “Yes. He found me.” She pulled bumper pads and sheets with a soothing cloud motif from a bag.
“And?”
“And he immediately said we should get married, and I told him never, and he said we need to get to know each other, and I suggested e-mail.”
“You must have felt something for him to get involved with him,” Jill said.
Martina didn’t like being reminded of her initial attraction to Noah. It had been strong and sexual, and she wasn’t feeling very sexy these days.
Her doorbell rang, saving her from responding.
“Pizza,” a male voice called.
Martina felt a twinge. The voice was familiar. “I didn’t order pizza,” she muttered, rising from the floor. Although pizza sounded like a good idea.
Jill joined her at the top of the stairs. “Your pizza-delivery guy looks a lot different from mine.”
Noah had let himself in her unlocked door. His intense gaze wrapped around Martina and squeezed before he gave a slight grin that made her stomach flip. How had he known she would be hungry? Martina rolled her eyes at herself. When was she not hungry?
“What a surprise,” she said in a neutral voice, walking down the stairs.
He flipped open the lid to reveal a large, hot pizza with mushrooms and onions. She eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know they’re my favorite toppings?”
“It’s my job to know,” he said in a voice that would melt brick.
Martina tried to ignore the way her heart sped up.
“You’re the man who arrived on horseback at Brock and Felicity’s wedding,” Jill said, her eyes growing wide in realization. “The fa—” She stopped and appeared to correct herself. “The fellow procreator.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. “Noah Coltrane. I’m the father of Martina’s baby. And you?”
Martina ground her teeth. “This is my sister-in-law, Jill. She’s married to Tyler.”
“A pleasure,” Noah said, shifting the pizza box so he could shake hands.
Jill nodded, still neutral. “You come bearing pizza?”
“I understand pregnant women get hungry,” he said in the same sexy voice that made Martina feel hungry in all ways. “Satisfying Martina’s appetite is my job.”
Jill’s lips twitched. “Something tells me you’re up to the challenge.” She glanced at Martina. “I should run and leave you two to your appetites and pizza.”
“No. You don’t have to go. There’s plenty for—”
“I really need to get back.” She gave Martina a quick hug and whispered, “Enjoy yourself. It’s not as if you can get pregnant.”
Shocked, Martina gaped at Jill. Traitor! “Tyler would not appreciate that comment.”
“He may eventually,” Jill said. “Take care and call me for anything.”
“Yes, but—” Martina watched her sister-in-law smile and leave. She turned to Noah and scowled.
“Nice lady,” he said cheerfully. “How are you?”
“I’m retaining water.”
Looking down at her from beneath his black Stetson, he nodded. “I can take care of a lot of things, but probably not water retention. Pizza?”
“Yes,” she said, and added dutifully, “thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He strolled into the kitchen in front of her, giving her an unobstructed view of his impressive backside. A memory flashed in her mind of the time Noah had coaxed her into making love in front of a mirror. The images of her naked body and his and the passion between them were so hot she prayed her thoughts didn’t show on her face.
Noah turned and studied her. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”
Darn. “Heating for two.” Martina smiled and headed for the freezer. She opened the door and stuck her face inside to cool her cheeks as she pulled out some ice cubes.
She dumped the ice into two glasses and grabbed a couple of soft drinks. “How are you managing to get your work done and take time out to visit me?”
“I keep my trading to a minimum on the day I see you and work on my other projects on the weekends. I can handle it,” he assured her in that low, sexy voice.
Martina’s gaze skimmed over his broad shoulders. Yes, he could probably handle just about anything he wanted. “You don’t really need to visit so often,” she said.
“Sure I do. You’d miss me,” he mocked.
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“Have some pizza,” Noah interjected. “I have a surprise for you after you finish eating.”
“What kind of surprise?” she asked, immediately curious.
“It’s little.”
“What is it?”
“Now if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
She gave a much-put-upon sigh.
Noah’s smile twitched with humor. “Your impatience reminded me a little of my brother Gideon.”
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