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
«^»
Martina 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.