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.
Noah had always doubted that romantic love was in the cards for him. His mentor, Zachary, had always stressed how important it was for a man to find his purpose and perform it. Noah had quickly learned his purpose was to bring innovations to the Coltrane ranch to increase revenue and secure his and his brothers' future. In the back of his mind, he'd vaguely believed he was securing the future of the next generation of Coltranes. That belief was no longer vague. It held a distinct picture in his mind of Martina and his child.