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Expecting his child(15)

By:Leanne Banks


Martina's eyes rounded. She opened her mouth.

"Thank you very much," Noah said before she could voice her denial.

The doctor left the room and Noah reached for the telephone. "I need to call one of my brothers to pick me up."

Martina put her hand over his, preventing him from picking it up. "That's not necessary. I'm taking you to the ranch," she said.

Surprised, he raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Her eyes flickered with brief uncertainty, but she took a breath and  seemed to gird herself with determination. "I'm going to stay," she  said. "For just a few days," she emphasized.

He opened his mouth to tell her he wasn't that hurt, that he didn't need  her to care for him, but the notion of Martina at the Coltrane ranch  was so tempting it made his mouth water.

"I feel somewhat responsible for your accident," she said. "After all, you were coming to see me when it happened."

"You aren't responsible. It could have happened to me anytime. You can't  predict when another truck driver has had too much to drink and his  vehicle goes out of control and strikes yours."

"I can accept that mentally," she said, lacing her hands together. "But … "

"But?" he prompted.

"But I just feel responsible. Your brothers are busy and you will need  someone to help you for the next few days. It feels right that I should  do it."

Noah wished like hell that it would feel right to Martina to be with him  because that was where she belonged. He could push her to confess  deeper feelings for him, he thought. Another time, he promised himself  he would. He stifled a sigh. "So this is about your honor," Noah said  slowly.

She met his gaze, then looked downward. "I suppose you could say that."

"Honor's not bad. It's not a bad place to start at all."

She met his gaze again and lifted her chin, the emotion in her blue eyes inscrutable. "For some things."

* * *

Noah was still sleeping when Martina pulled into the Coltrane driveway.  She felt uneasy. This land had been forbidden to her since before she  was born, and it felt very uncomfortable not only to drive on it, but  also to know she would be here for the next few days. If her brothers  found out …  Her stomach plunged. She slammed the door on those thoughts.

She took in the lay of the land and decided something about the Coltrane  ranch seemed more primitive to her. Perhaps it was the buildings under  construction, or the fact that no white fence or bluebonnets lined the  drive.

Or perhaps it was the house, she thought, as she slowed to view it.  Painted brown with no shutters and no vegetation surrounding it, the  house reminded her of a barn without the warmth.

She slid a glance at Noah. He must have noticed the difference in speed,  for he shifted. Despite his denial, she was sure he felt terrible. His  color was off, and dark circles rimmed his eyes. Beneath his denim  shirt, she knew his chest was taped. Given Noah's mile-wide macho  streak, he would probably forbid her to help him up the front steps.  Martina decided to leave the car running while she enlisted the help of  one of his brothers.                       
       
           



       

As she opened the car door and eased out, then headed for the house, it  occurred to her that no Logan had ever set foot on Coltrane land without  being armed. She lifted her chin and firmly pressed the doorbell.

A tall, unsmiling, unfriendly-looking man opened the door and looked at  her suspiciously. This must be Adam, the oldest Coltrane brother, she  concluded. She hadn't met him at the hospital. Martina felt the power of  generations of distrust flow between them. Her unease grew.

Stiffening her back, she reminded herself that she was armed. Inside the  small purse slung on her shoulder was a tiny silk envelope of something  that gave her courage. Her secret talisman. Oh, yes, Martina was armed.  With baby booties.





* * *





Chapter 8

«^»

"I brought Noah home from the hospital and I know he's going to try to overdo, so I need someone to help him up the stairs."

Adam Coltrane looked at her as if she were an alien, which, in a way, she was.

She heard the scrape of Noah's boots on the steps behind her. "I'm fine on my own."

She rolled her eyes. "And he complains about my independence."

"I can handle him from here," Adam said. "Thanks for giving him a ride."

"She's staying," Noah said.

Adam's face froze. "She's what?"

"Just for a few days," Martina assured him. "Believe me, I'm just as  uncomfortable with this as you are, but Noah will need some extra help  the next few days, and it's not fair for you or your brothers to tend to  him when the reason Noah crashed was because he was coming to see me."

She felt Noah's hand at her back. "You look terrible. You need to lie down," she said.

"Thank you," Noah said in dry tone. "You're not going to turn into a  fussy, demanding woman who tries to order me around, are you?"

Martina smiled brightly. "Of course not. I'll be an assertive woman who  reminds you of the things you need to do to heal quickly. The quicker  you heal," she said, "the quicker I leave."

"No need to rush," he said in a voice that made her nerve endings ripple  with sensual possibilities. "If someone lies down with me, maybe I'll  rest better."

Martina felt a rush of warmth and a tinge of embarrassment, but she  refused to show either. "Then we'll have to see if we can round up a  teddy bear for you."

Noah chuckled, then winced and grabbed his ribs. "Oh, Lord, if you have any pity, don't make me laugh."

"Then don't try to seduce me when you can't do anything about it," Martina said as gently as she could.

"Sweetheart," Noah said with a dangerous light in his eyes, "don't say I can't. That's like waving a red flag."

Martina struggled with the awareness that always seemed to shimmer  between them. "I definitely don't want to bring out the bull in you,"  she murmured, then turned to Adam. "I think we need to get him into bed.  Will you help?"

Adam blinked, his eyes still wary.

Martina's impatience climbed up the scale. "So what are you worried  about? That I'll knife you all in your sleep? Unfortunately, I'm not as  light-footed as I usually am, so I'm sure you'd hear my approach."

"I'm more concerned about what your brothers will do when they find out you're here."

So, this Adam wasn't a dummy. Martina had wondered the same. "They don't  know I'm here. My brother Brock and his family are gone to New York  City, and Tyler lives in Fort Worth. Besides, they're mostly civilized. I  can't believe they would … " She broke off, recalling some recent heated  conversations with her brothers. "Well, they don't know I'm here," she  said, and walked through the door.

"And you're not worried that the evil Coltranes would do anything to hurt you?" Adam asked.

"Adam," Noah said in a stern voice.

She gave a short laugh. "As if Noah would let you," she said, then met  Adam's gaze. "Besides, if Noah is any indication, all of you are into  this honor thing in a big way. I'm willing to risk it." She turned back  to Noah. "What can I bring you to drink?"

"I'm not thirsty."

She looked Noah in the eye. Heavens, he was going to be more difficult  than a two-year-old. "I didn't ask if you were thirsty. I'm sure you  remember the doctor said you needed to drink a lot of fluids. Would you  like me to choose for you?"

Noah gave a slight groan. "Whiskey," he muttered under his breath.  "Lemonade. Okay, bring me lemonade. Kitchen's straight ahead and to the  left."

Noah watched her leave and took a moment to relish the sight of Martina  in his home. Her dark hair bounced against her shoulders and her long,  coltish legs made short work of the hall to the kitchen. From behind, he  could barely tell she was pregnant. Her back was straight, her buttocks  tight and round, and her legs still as sexy as the day he'd first met  her.                       
       
           



       

"C'mon, I need to get you into bed. You have lost your mind," Adam said,  shaking his head and acting as a crutch on the stairs. "Bringing  Martina Logan into our house. Are you sure that concussion hasn't  impaired your judgment?"

"My judgment's fine. It's these damn ribs and my gimpy leg." Accustomed  to nearly unlimited energy, he despised his current weariness. "I feel  like a toddler who needs a nap. I've been trying to get Martina out here  since I found out she was pregnant. When she volunteered, did you  really think I was going to refuse her?"