It was more than want, more than need, something terribly close to love. Closing her eyes against a shot of fear, she undulated slightly and heard his groan of pleasure.
"Come here," he said, and drew her mouth to his as he cupped his hands around her bottom and led her in a mind-bending rhythm. Everything but Noah faded from her existence.
Lifting one hand, he stroked her jaw as he consumed her with his mouth and tongue, echoing their deeper intimacy. Swollen with anticipation, Martina felt her body tighten around his shaft. The combination was too much. She shattered around him, her climax shuddering through her in fits and starts.
Noah gave a low groan that vibrated through her mouth, through her very being, as he spilled his pleasure into her. Martina felt her bond with him in every pore of her body.
* * *
The first sliver of dawn's pale light woke her the next morning. She blinked her eyes and was immediately aware of Noah. Her cheek rested against his arm, her belly against his side. She was naked and so was he. Although he was propped against the pillows, she could still see the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.
For a moment she wondered what it would be like to wake up in his bed and arms every morning. The forbidden image of looking into his eyes at the start of every day taunted her.
What about their families? And what if he only wanted her and never grew to love her? Her stomach tightened with fear. The baby moved inside her and she felt so torn that tears sprang to her eyes.
She had to get away from Noah, Martina thought. She needed to clear her head, and with him so close she didn't stand a chance. Not bothering with her clothes, she eased out of the covers and carefully slid out of bed, then tiptoed to the bathroom that connected Noah's room with hers. She closed the door, locked it and breathed.
Although he had been gentle, her nipples were tender and a few pink marks colored her skin. She had been completely enveloped by him, and she struggled with a sense of being overwhelmed. Much was at stake.
Biting her lip, she turned on the shower jets and stepped inside the bathtub. A clear head, she told herself. I need a clear head.
As the commodities exchange would have it, Martina successfully avoided Noah throughout the morning. She had left early to go to the grocery store, and when she returned been told that he had asked for her. Since then, he'd been engrossed in taking advantage of a volatile day on the market.
Martina was no less confused. Making love with Noah had solved nothing. They still had the same problems. The only thing making love with him had shown her was the power of their passion for each other and the incredible bond they shared.
But how long would that bond remain if they didn't truly love each other? Martina feared she was fooling herself with that question. It was frightening to admit to herself, but she loved Noah Coltrane. She could hide it from everyone else, but she couldn't dodge it herself any longer.
She was wise enough to know that one-sided love didn't work. How long would their bond remain if Noah never loved her?
Pensive, she paced the downstairs living room. She didn't know which was the most blah room in the house, but this one came close. Beige walls, beige sofa, brown chair. The house desperately needed some color. It desperately needed a woman, but not her, Martina thought. She was far too independent and opinionated for the Coltrane brotherhood. She would drive them all straight up the wall.
The phone rang. Martina knew Patch, the cook, was out in the garden and everyone except Noah was outside. She hesitated to answer on the off chance that one of her brothers might guess her whereabouts. It continued to ring, and since she knew Noah was glued to the monitor and refused to talk on the phone when he was trading, she picked up. "Hello?"
There was a silent pause. "Is this the Coltrane residence?" a female voice asked.
"Yes, it is," Martina replied, her curiosity growing.
"I'd like to speak to Noah Coltrane, please."
Martina felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. "He can't come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?"
"This is Wendy Holden, and Noah and I had dinner a few months ago in Dallas. I own a travel agency and I'd like to discuss his fencing camp. Tell him to give me a call, and this time, I'll give him a home-cooked meal in my home. That way we can avoid interruptions," she said in a smoky voice.
Martina felt the ugly scrape of jealousy. Fierce and intense possessiveness coursed through her. She took a careful breath. "I'll give him the message. Does he have your number?"
Wendy, whom Martina was certain was blond, thin and had no problems with swelling ankles, happily recited her number and hung up. Wendy probably had no problem seeing her toes.
Martina nearly broke the pencil lead as she wrote the message for Noah. She was so upset she could pop. When had he seen her? Who else had he courted and seduced during the time they'd been apart?
While she'd been heaving with morning sickness, he could well have been seducing half of Texas. Make that Texas and Chicago.
Martina knew she wasn't being rational, but the inviting tone in the woman's voice pushed all the wrong buttons. She stared at the beige wall and decided she couldn't stay in this house one minute longer. She heard the back door slam, signaling Patch's return.
She male tracks to the kitchen and placed the offending message on the kitchen table. "I need to go out for a while. Please make sure Noah gets this message."
"Where you going?" the small, older man called after her.
"Out," Martina replied as she stepped through the front doorway and headed for her car. She needed to think.
* * *
As he watched his last trade of the day fill, Noah finally took a breath. The market had been especially volatile today, and since he'd been out of commission several days this week, he'd wanted to take advantage of his opportunities. He felt stiff and sore, and he wanted to see Martina.
She had made love with him with such abandon last night. It had been better, more powerful than he remembered. She had the strange ability to satisfy him completely at the same time that she made him want more.
He stood and resisted the urge to stretch, knowing it would hurt more than it would help. He could tell his lung was better. He didn't feel the damn rattle every time he breathed. Sick of babying his ribs, he figured he'd still have to put up with sleeping upright a while longer.
Noah couldn't deny he was improving, but he was determined to find a way to keep Martina with him. Last night was a start. He wondered where she was. "Martina," he called, whipping open his door. "Martina."
"She's not here," Patch said, appearing at the bottom of the steps and waving a piece of paper. "She told me to make sure you got this message, then she left."
Noah frowned as he made his way down the stairs. "Left? Where'd she go?"
Patch shrugged. "When I asked her, she said, "Out." He raised his bushy gray eyebrows. "You might want to read the message."
Noah scanned the piece of paper and felt his gut sink. Wendy Holden was a man-eater and proud of it. His only interest in her had been her suggestion to promote the ranch's fencing and roundup weekends through her travel agency. When Wendy had indicated she wanted more, Noah had sought other avenues for promoting the ranch's expansion activities. Martina didn't know any of that, though. He could easily imagine what had gone through that pretty head of hers. "Damn," he muttered. "She didn't say anything about where she was going?"
"Out," Patch repeated with emphasis. "That was the last word I heard before the door slammed behind her. She took her car."
"Damn," Noah said again, and took the steps two at a time. If she was leaving permanently, she might have left her clothes, but would have taken her computer, he thought, swinging open her bedroom door to view her room. Her laptop was still on the small desk. He gave a small sigh of relief.
He stood in her room and stroked his chin, thinking. If I were Martina and I was upset as hell, where would I go?
An answer immediately came to him. An answer that did not please him. His gut twisted. "Damn," he said for the third time, and headed for his brother Adam's truck.
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
Noah spotted Martina's blue Mustang just as the Logan house came into view. He felt an odd mix of relief and ingrained wariness as he looked at the large, impressive home. Damn. Sometimes he hated being right.