Expecting his child(14)

Noah awoke to the sound of loud voices outside his hospital room and  winced at the pain in his chest. At the moment, it hurt to breathe. The  only thing he wanted was blessed sleep. If that nurse poked him and  asked his name one more time, he was going to tell her he was an alien.  Or the president. Or, he thought with a pained grin, a woman. Maybe that  one from the Zorro movie. Martina looked a lot like her.

"If you're not related to Mr. Coltrane, I can't allow you in," the nurse said firmly.

Noah opened his eyes at the mention of his name. His gaze encountered Jonathan and Gideon.

"What?" Gideon rose and cracked the door.

"This is ridiculous. All I want to do is see Noah. I have no interest in  even talking to him." Martina's voice carried into Noah's room.

Gideon turned an accusing gaze on Jonathan. "There is one very pregnant,  very upset woman out there. Why in hell did you call her? Adam said we  shouldn't."

Jonathan shrugged. "Adam left."

"He's gonna fry your butt."

"Not if he doesn't find out," Jonathan returned. "Not unless the baby of the family snitches on me."

Gideon scowled. "You son of a-"

"Would you two shut up so I can hear Martina?" Noah demanded. "I want to hear this."

"What is so-" Gideon began.

"Shut up," Jonathan and Noah said in unison.

"You haven't given me an acceptable reason to allow you into Mr.  Coltrane's room. This patient has experienced head trauma and shouldn't  be disturbed."

"This is not the first tine Mr. Coltrane has acted as if he has  experienced head trauma, but that's another matter," Martina said. "Mr.  Coltrane is … "

"She's not going to be able to say it." Noah shook his head, then winced at the pain.

"Say what?" Gideon asked in exasperation.

"You'll hear."

"He contributed genetic material," Martina said.

"Pardon?" the nurse said.

"He supplied necessary chromosomes," Martina continued.

"A sperm donor!" the nurse exclaimed. "You think I should let you in there because he was your sperm donor?"                       
       
           



       

"He was not my sperm donor," Martina hotly denied. "Noah Coltrane  donated his sperm the old-fashioned way. I'm expecting his child, and he  has asked me to marry him."

Noah started to chuckle, but it hurt too much.

"Oh, you're his fiancée," the nurse said. "Why didn't you say so? You can go in."

"Thank you," Martina said in a cool voice, then muttered, pushing open Noah's door, "I did not say I was his fiancée."

"I'm asleep," Noah whispered to his brothers and closed his eyes.

At her entrance, Noah heard both his brothers rise to their feet. Not  surprised she had that effect on him, he thought. She'd probably made  more than one man think about kneeling.

He smelled her sweet scent and felt her gaze as she paused for a long  moment at his bedside. He was struck by an overpowering urge to see her,  and it took surprising willpower to keep his eyes closed.

"Is he really okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "He's just-"

"-sleeping," Gideon finished.

"Which of you is Jonathan?" she asked, her voice like honey over his pain.

"I am," Jonathan said. "You didn't have to come."

"Yes, I did. I, uh … " She cleared her throat. "I needed to see for myself that he was okay."

Her simple statement soothed his jangled nerve endings and abused body.  Her presence both stimulated and relaxed him, and he felt himself  drifting again. Martina was here and she cared. Everything wasn't all  right, but it was a damn sight better than it had been.

The next time Noah awakened, it was to an empty room, and he wondered if  he had dreamed her into his room, wished her there in his state of  concussion.

His door whooshed open and Martina appeared with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her gaze met his. "You're awake," she said.

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay," he automatically responded, busy drinking in the sight of her.

"Okay," she echoed in disbelief.

"Well, as long as I don't breathe or move, I feel okay."

She smiled at his light response, then her expression shifted. If he didn't know better, he would say she looked worried.

"I'm sorry about the accident," she said.

"Yeah, the truck's a goner."

"I wasn't talking about the truck," she said. "I was talking about you."

A tiny drop of hope trickled through his blood. "You didn't want me to croak?" he asked.

"No. I didn't."

"You might miss me," he said.

"The baby would miss having a pretty wonderful father."

Life wasn't worth living if a man didn't push his luck every now and  then, Noah thought, so he pushed. "Then maybe you should marry me like  you told the nurse you would."

Martina stopped and stared at him for a full moment. "You heard that?"

"Most of it," he said.

"But you were asleep," she said, distress creeping into her voice.

"Well, after you whispered with my brothers, I fell asleep, but-"

Her eyes lit with anger. "You eavesdropped and pretended you were asleep. What a slimy-"

"Just a minute, Princess Logan." Noah held up his hand and winced at the  pain. "You were practically having a catfight with the nurse right  outside my room. That's not eavesdropping."

"But you pretended-"

"Not for long. With the way I've felt since my truck rolled, I'd rather sleep through the next few days than win the lottery."

Her skin paled. "It rolled? Your truck rolled?"

Reluctant to alarm her, he bit back an oath. "It was just a little roll."

Martina sank onto the corner of his bed. "There's no such thing as a  little roll. Your brothers hedged on the severity of the accident."

"They were just following instincts. Good instincts," he said. "No need to unnecessarily alarm a pregnant woman."

"I don't need to be protected."

"Yeah, you do," Noah said. "It's okay. This is one of the times in your  life you need to be protected. You can't run as fast as usual. You can't  lift as much as usual, although I suspect you try," he added with a  frown. "You need to be protected, and it's okay. It won't always be that  way. It doesn't mean you're not as strong. It just means your body is  busy doing something else at the moment. It's busy getting our baby  ready for the big entrance."

She looked at him and he could see she half-agreed and half-disagreed.  Her eyes rounded slightly and she put her hand on her belly. "Sometimes I  wonder if he already knows."

"Knows what?" Noah prompted.

Reluctance shimmered in her vibrant blue eyes. She hesitated. "Sometimes I wonder if the baby already knows your voice."                       
       
           



       

Noah's gut tightened. "Is the baby moving right now?"

Martina nodded, paused a few seconds, then moved closer to him. She put  his hand on her abdomen, and Noah immediately felt a jab and a kick. He  met Martina's gaze and saw the wonder in her eyes, the same wonder that  burst inside him. The moment was a magical sliver of time. "Amazing," he  said, lacing his fingers through hers over her abdomen.

He watched Martina look at their intertwined hands. She bit her lip and eased backward.

Her retreat annoyed him. His patience had been stretched to the limit.  He wanted her to admit that she belonged with him. He wanted her to  agree to marry him so they could raise the baby together. He wanted to  throw her doubt, uncertainty and torn loyalties into a bottomless pit,  and then throw her over his shoulder and take her home.

He felt a dull throb in his chest, leg and head, and reluctantly  admitted he probably wasn't in the best shape for hauling anybody over  his shoulder. He deliberately tamped down his impatience. "Where are my  brothers?"

"They went home," she said. "They said-"

The door swung open and the doctor appeared. He flipped through the  chart. "I see you made it through the night without too much trouble,"  he said. "Although the nurse said you objected to the frequent checks."

"She objected to the idea of me throwing a bedpan at her if she woke me once more before 5 a.m.," Noah said.

The doctor put his stethoscope to Noah's chest. "Breathe normally," he said, then put the stethoscope to his back. "Again."

"Rest for the next few days. You can sit up, but no physical exertion  until your lung and ribs begin to heal. I suspect you won't feel like  doing much, anyway. Plenty of fluids." He nodded in Martina's direction.  "He's all yours, Mrs. Coltrane."