EXPECTING HIS CHILD (6 page)

"He better
be
staying away from you,"
Tyler
said.

Martina's stomach twisted. "This isn't a good time," she said to the mechanic and turned to face her brothers. Even though they had almost suffocated her by overprotecting her, Martina loved Brock and
Tyler
with all her heart. Brock still wore a scar on his cheek from rescuing her from an unbroken horse when she was a toddler.
Tyler
had done things for her most brothers wouldn't dream of, such as painting her nails and braiding her hair. They had tried to make up for her father's lack of attention and love.

This was why she and Noah could never be together. This and the fact that Noah wasn't truly in love with her.

She swallowed over a tight feeling in her throat. "Noah found me," she said quietly. "He knows I'm having his baby."

Tyler
's jaw hardened. "He hasn't tried to hurt you in any way, has he?"

"No, not at all." She bit her lip. "He, uh, wanted me to marry him, but of course I said no."

"Of course," Brock said. "He should know better. You'd never marry a good-for-nothing Coltrane."

Felicity joined them, catching Martina's gaze. "He might not be totally good-for-nothing," she said. "After all, Martina must have seen something in him."

"That was a fling,"
Tyler
said.

"A big mistake," Brock said. "She was vulnerable and homesick and he took advantage of her."

Felicity raised a fine eyebrow. "You could be underestimating both Martina and Noah."

"I know Noah Coltrane,"
Tyler
said. "I traded punches with him throughout high school."

Felicity bristled. "I'm a little sensitive to the idea that zebras don't change their stripes, because I did. Are you the same person you were in high school?"

"No, but…" Brock narrowed his eyes. "Why are you taking up for Noah? You know the problems the
Coltranes
have caused."

The possibility of her brother and sister-in-law fighting filled Martina with distress. "This isn't necessary," she began.

Felicity locked gazes with her husband. "Circumstances are different now. We have to think about what's best for Martina and her baby."

"That doesn't include Noah Coltrane," Brock returned.

"That's not for you to decide."

"Please stop," Martina said, feeling close to tears. "If ever a man didn't need someone to defend him, it's Noah. He's quite capable of defending himself. And this discussion is moot because the stars will have to fall on
Texas
before Noah and I get married."

Both of her brothers visibly relaxed, but Felicity still wore a look of concern. "Jacob tells me you brought me diapers," Martina said to her. "Why don't you bring them in while I go up to the nursery?"

Martina walked to the nursery and tried to gather her wits. The one thing she hated most about pregnancy was this completely foreign but overwhelming urge to cry. Feeling pulled in opposite directions at once, she bit her lip to get her emotions under control.

"Martina," Felicity said from the doorway.

Martina stiffened her backbone and turned to find both sisters-in-law watching her. "You really don't need to defend Noah."

"I've talked with him," Felicity said.

Martina gaped at her and lifted her shoulders in confusion. "How? When?"

"I ran into him at the bookstore one day. Actually, he saw me and remembered me from the wedding. He asked me to have coffee with him. He was so polite and so hungry for information about you that I couldn't refuse. I felt guilty afterward, but Brock and
Tyler
are so unreasonable about the
Coltranes
."

"I second that," Jill said.

Martina felt confused and exposed. "What did he ask you?"

"Little things. Your favorite food and color. Between you and Brock, I've gathered enough about you that I could answer most of his questions. I told him if he hurt you I would cut out his heart. His reply is what made me think that everyone needs to give Noah Coltrane a chance."

Martina almost didn't want to hear what Noah had said. She was having a difficult time holding fast to her determination to keep him at arm's length.

"What did he say?" Jill asked.

"He said if he hurt you, he would supply me with the sword."

A chill ran through Martina.

"I know what it's like to be underestimated. I think you do too," Felicity said. "Don't underestimate Noah. Do what is best for you."

"I am. Noah doesn't really love me," she said, forcing the words from her mouth as much for herself as for Jill and Felicity. "This is some kind of male, family-honor thing for him."

Jill looked undecided. "We just want you to know we're here for you whatever you choose to do." She brushed her hands together as if dispensing with the conversational topic. "Speaking of choices, what would you like to do now?"

Sit down and cry,
Martina wanted to say. Instead, she swallowed her emotions and said, "I'd like to decide where to put everything you brought." She pretended to focus on the task at hand, but in her mind, she felt Noah's presence. The strange connection she'd felt with him in
Chicago
and buried when she'd left wrapped around her like a silken rope. Soft but deceptively strong. Felicity and Brock's argument played through her mind in stereo, however, reminding her that she couldn't give in to crazy fantasies about Noah.

For her family. For herself.

Chapter 6

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M
artina glanced at her cuckoo clock for the fortieth time and scowled. She was getting used to his calls and his visits. When he'd called last night, he'd told her he would see her tonight around seven. It was after eight. What if he'd been in an accident? Her heart stuttered at the thought. Had he forgotten? She struggled with pure liquid fury.

She'd been reviewing the same part of a Web page for the past thirty minutes. She shouldn't care. It shouldn't matter. In fact, she should be relieved. After all, Noah had become an unwelcome intruder in her life.

The doorbell rang and she sprang from her chair and ran to open the front door. "Where in hell have you been?" she asked, searching Noah's face. "You look tired."

"A tractor-trailer turned over on the highway, spilled oil over the road. I had to take a detour."

"Oh," Martina said, and took a careful breath. "Did you forget your cell phone?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I tried a couple of times, but I must've been in a dead zone." He met her gaze. "Are you pissed off or upset?"

Martina felt a surge of conflicting emotions and the terrible, overwhelming urge to cry. "Oh, damn," she muttered. "Damn. Absolutely not," she sternly told herself.

"Huh?" Noah reached out to lift her chin so he could see her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not," she insisted.

His brow wrinkled. "Then what's wrong?"

Martina shook her head and took several quick breaths. "I'm fine. I'm not going to cry."

He looked at her in shock. "Cry?"

"I'm not going to cry," she said, closing her eyes and feeling a tiny tear escape the corner of one.

She felt his warm, long finger on her cheek. "You were worried about me," he said in astonishment. "You're upset because you didn't want anything to happen to me."

Martina opened her eyes. "Don't read anything into it. It doesn't mean anything," she told him. "It's those dingdong pregnancy hormones."

He pulled her against him. "You missed me."

"I did not," Martina said, relishing the comfort of his arms.

"Okay, then I'll leave."

She tightened her hands on his arms. "Don't," she whispered, a request she couldn't stifle.

"Admit it," he said. "You care for me."

"I care for every human being on the planet except ax murderers and very mean people."

"But you didn't worry about every human being on the planet tonight. You worried about me." He lowered his head putting his mouth inches from hers. "Admit it."

You can't make me. You can't make me, she thought, zipping her lips.

"Shy?" Noah asked in a gently mocking voice. "I'm surprised. You're many things, but I've never thought of you as shy."

"I'm not!" Completely out of sorts, she felt as if her composure had taken the last train to
Beaumont
.

Startling her, he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the softly lit den. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed. "Trying to give
yourself
a hernia?"

"There you go again – worrying about me. Careful, Martina, or I'll start thinking you truly care about me."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," she muttered, relieved when he set her down on the couch. She started to rise, but Noah put his hands on either side of her, trapping her.

"I would be just fine if you would give me a little space," she told him.

"Maybe later," he said, pulling her into his arms and lowering his head.

He took her mouth, and Martina's composure left
Beaumont
and headed for
Mexico
. He kissed her intently, as if to reassure her that he was very much alive. His mouth, a seductive combination of supple and soft, nibbled at hers, sucking her lips, and his tongue slid over hers.

The low, sexual murmur rising from his throat lit a hidden flame inside her. She could almost believe he wanted her. His breath and hers mingled, her heart pounded, and he continued to kiss her.

One of his hands wandered to her tank top, lifting it, and his slightly callused palm touched her bare belly. His fingers caressed her while his mouth grew hungrier with each passing moment.

Martina's temperature shot to sweltering, and she felt her breasts throb with need. As if he knew the way her blood flowed through her body, Noah skimmed his fingers upward to the underside of her breasts. Lifting her bra, he rubbed his thumb over one breast, getting close to, but not quite touching, her nipple.

Unchecked desire licked through her, and she suckled his tongue, craving the way he made her feel. His thumb glanced over her nipple, and she shuddered.

"Like that?" he asked in a taunting sexual voice against her lips. Giving her no opportunity to answer, he took her mouth again and began to rub her turgid nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

The caress tightened her nether regions with shocking speed and force.

"Oh." The helpless sound escaped her mouth.

"You feel incredible," he told her, lifting his other hand to her other breast, stroking and teasing her.

Martina felt as if he was stimulating her intimately. Each tug of his fingers on her nipples squeezed a coil deep inside her. Unable to remain still, she undulated against him.

He groaned and lowered his hand, replacing his fingers with his warm, wet mouth. The sight of his dark head against her pale breast was too erotic to bear. Closing her eyes, she fought the escalating pleasure. This couldn't be happening, she thought.

Noah's tongue cupped her nipple, sucking, sending her over the top and crying out. A shocking, intense climax rocked through her. "Oh, my!"

She bit her lip as his terrible, wonderful mouth continued, sending her into another spasm of pleasure. Helpless and vulnerable, Martina felt a well of emotion that swelled in her eyes.

"Oh, damn, not again," she whispered, distressed.

Noah pulled back and looked into her eyes. She looked away, swiping at hers.

"Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms.

"This is crazy," she wailed. "How do you…" She broke off, feeling a fresh threat of tears. "This is insane. We're wrong for each other. You don't really want me. You want the baby and your honor and—"

Noah moved her hand to his very hard masculinity, abruptly cutting her off. She savored the intimacy of touching him for a few seconds. She savored the hope that he truly did want her for a few seconds. Then the baby kicked and so did reality.

Martina drew back. "You can't want me."

His eyes dark with desire and challenge, he nudged her gaze upward to meet his. "Why not?"

"Because I'm very big," she said.

"With my baby," he said, rubbing his hands over her full abdomen. He lowered his mouth to kiss the bare skin. "This makes you the sexiest woman in the world to me."

Martina searched her brain for a response, but found none. He almost made her believe it. Almost.

"I want to make love to you."

Panic shot through her. "Oh, no." She pulled back and shook her head. "Not a good idea."

"Why?" he asked, his slight grin belying the serious glint in his eye. "It's not like you'll get pregnant."

"It's just not a good idea."

"You really have no idea how sexy you are to me right now. Your body is so responsive, your breasts full. Do you have any idea how much of a turn-on it is
knowing
I can bring you to climax just by touching your breasts? Imagine what else could happen if—?"

"—I had no idea I would." Martina shook her head adamantly. She didn't need to imagine. Reality was clouding her head enough.

"Never before?" he asked.

"No," Martina said, feeling her cheeks heat self-consciously. "I think I may have seen something about it in one of the pregnancy books I read."

"Really! What did it say?"

"I don't remember much. I think I skimmed that part, but the point is—"

"What
do
you remember?"

Martina sighed, wishing she could transport herself to Anywhere-
elseville
. "It just said something about how women's breasts are sometimes more sensitive during pregnancy and some women have been known to have orgasms just by…"
Help!

"By touching," he finished. "With hands or mouth."

Martina felt his words like a touch and her body remembered his recent caresses. She shook her head. "This is crazy. You've got to stop."

"Why?" he asked in an irritatingly calm voice.

"Because we're not right for each other, and—"

"Why?" he asked again.

"Well, there's the fact that your family hates mine and mine hates yours."

"But I don't hate you, and you don't hate me," he said. "So why are we not right for each other? What don't you like about me?"

Martina blinked. He'd taken her off guard again.

"You don't like the way I look?"

Her gaze helplessly fell over his strong body and chiseled facial features. "I, uh…" She swallowed. "I don't not like the way you look."

His lips twitched at her grudging response, but he continued. "Do I not turn you on sexually?"

She cleared her throat. She couldn't very well deny he turned her on after the way she'd just responded to him. "I, uh…" She exhaled in frustration. "Yes, of course you turn me on. I don't think I'd be pregnant if you didn't."

He nodded. "Then it must be my personality, the way I think and act."

Unable to bear the riot her emotions were causing inside her, Martina stood. "No, I like…" She trailed off, confused and frustrated. Noah's personality was what never failed to bowl her over, but she couldn't tell him that. "Yes, that's it. You're just too damn smart," she said angrily. "And intuitive. You're too intuitive. And you argue with me too much."

Noah stood. "You would have no use for a man who didn't meet you head-to-head and toe-to-toe. You're too strong a woman not to demand strength in your man."

Frustration roared through her and another spate of tears threatened. Martina bit her lip, refusing to cry. Heaven help her, this man knew her better than she'd realized. What in hell was she going to do?

He gave her an assessing gaze. "You look like you could use some time to yourself."

He was right. And wrong. But she latched on to the offer. "Yes, thank you."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Anything else what?" she asked, still confused.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Martina refused to think about what he said anymore. If she did, she feared her brain would explode. "Cheesecake," she said. "I need cheesecake."

He gave her an odd look,
then
shrugged. "Okay. I brought something for the baby, but I left it in the truck. I'll be back in a minute."

Curious but wary, Martina followed him to the door.

Remaining on the porch, he opened the door and gave her a CD. "It's Mozart," he said. "There've been studies done that suggest listening to Mozart can increase a child's intelligence."

Touched, Martina scanned the CD. He was thinking about the baby even when he wasn't here with her.

"I don't want to try to make Super Baby, but if a little music will make life nicer for her…" He shrugged.

"Him," Martina corrected.

"We'll see," he said with a knowing grin. "
G'night
. I'll call you."

"
G'night
," Martina echoed, and fought a hint of a bereft feeling as she watched him leave. Closing the door and locking it, she opened the CD and put it on, allowing the music to wash over her. Too restless for sleep and leery of the dreams she might have, she poured herself some fruit juice and returned to her computer. She needed to lose herself in her work. She needed to lose herself in something besides Noah.

Mozart played and moments passed. The doorbell rang, surprising her, dragging her from her work. She eyed the clock and wondered who could be at her door. Staring outside her peephole, she saw no one, but heard the sound of a car engine. She checked the peephole again and saw no one.

Irritated, she opened the door and saw a vehicle disappear around the corner. She frowned, wondering if the ringing doorbell had been a product of her imagination. She happened to glance down and spotted a brown paper bag.

Picking it up, Martina peeked inside.

A slice of cheesecake.

Her heart turned over.
Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

* * *

He was getting to her. Satisfaction pumped through Noah at the thought as he drove to the Coltrane ranch. Martina was starting to face the fact that she wasn't immune to him. Soon she would face the fact that they should marry.

Noah wasn't worried about love. Their passion and their child was enough to bind them to each other. He didn't want love clouding the more important need for them to get married.