Expecting his child(4)

Martina stared into his eyes and bit her lip to keep from repeating the  words that flooded her brain. You were too sexy. You made me melt. You  made me feel more like a woman than I've ever felt in my life. You made  me feel like the most desirable woman in the world. You made me fall so  hard I almost couldn't get back up. You made me feel so much for you so  fast. You terrified me.

She tore her gaze from his and stared down at his boots. "You have the  wrong last name. And you have given signs that you would try to rule  me," she told him. "You tried to order me to marry you and come live  with you."

"What was your reaction when you found out you were pregnant?"

Martina remembered the bloodcurdling scream she'd let out once she'd  left the doctor's office and closed herself in her car. "Okay, I'll  admit it wasn't a quiet, rational response."

"How many decibels?"

She frowned at him. "I don't know. I just remember wondering if I'd  permanently broken my larynx." She smiled. "But as you can see, I  didn't."

"The point is, your first response wasn't the most rational. My first  instinct was and is to protect." His gaze drifted over her body, warming  her. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, as long as you don't go overboard."

"And you don't think you'll go overboard protecting our baby?"

Martina's chest tightened. She was already feeling overprotective of the precious life inside her. "It's my job to protect."

"Mine, too," he said, lifting his hand to cup her chin. "I won't forget  it," he told her, and everything about him, his voice, his determined  eyes, his posture, made an oath.

Martina felt a sinking sensation. This was why she hadn't wanted to tell  him. She had known Noah wouldn't abandon his child, and her life would  be intertwined with his for the rest of her days. She just wasn't sure  she could see him on a regular basis and keep her good sense intact.  Lifting her head away, she steeled her mind against him. "That's nice,  but-"

"And it's part of the reason I'm here," he said, dropping his hand to  his hip, but still crowding her. "There's a lot I don't know about you,  and there's a lot you don't know about me. You may not want to marry me,  but we're still having a baby together. In that case, we've got a lot  to learn about each other."

Martina hadn't thought her stomach could sink any lower. "What are you saying?"

"We need to get to know each other. We need to spend some time together."

No, no, no, no, no. Sliding past him would have been much easier if she  hadn't been seven months pregnant. Martina gently nudged him away. "I  hate for you to have to drive so far for something that shouldn't take  much time. Don't you think a résumé would work just as well?"

"No."

"We could write each other. E-mail," she said enthusiastically. "Everyone keeps in touch through e-mail these days."                       
       
           



       

He shook his head. "If this were the Old West, I could haul you off and  carry you home. Sadly, in this case, those days are gone," he muttered  under his breath. "I know you as a lover. I know what makes you-" his  eyes darkened in remembrance "-go," he finished. "But I need to know  more than that. I need to know the mother of my child."

His gaze cut through her, and Martina had a terrible premonition that  having Noah know her could be more dangerous for her than making love  with him had been. His intensity made the prospect feel unbearably  intimate. Oh, hell, Martina thought, wanting to kick something. How was  she supposed to refuse that request?

He moved closer, leaning on his uplifted arm against the wall beside her. "We might as well start with the hard stuff."

Hard stuff, Martina thought. That would be you. "What's that?" she asked warily.

"What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" he asked.

A rush of relief raced through her. Martina was so relieved she was  almost charmed. Almost, but she was determined to stay on guard.

* * *

"En garde!" Gideon cried, and lunged toward Noah. Gideon, whose temper  flared quickly but cooled with equal speed, had gotten past his anger  and was more than willing to try to best his older brother in a duel.

The parry, the clash and scrape of metal sword-play had been one of the  best ways for Noah to let off steam since Zachary had taught him and his  brothers to fence in the old barn.

"Rough afternoon with the Logan princess?" Gideon goaded him with a smile.

Noah plunged past his younger brother's defense to touch his chest. He  contributed genetic material. Every time Martina's flip words played  through his mind, his head roared with anger.

Gideon nodded wryly at the point and backed away slightly. "I'll take that as a yes."

"It could have been worse," Noah said with a short nod. "Ready?" he asked, and they began again.

"In other words, she didn't sic her brothers on you," Gideon said.

"Compared to Martina, her brothers are cake. We've at least been able to  reason with Brock Logan about wandering cattle and the pond we share.  Martina knows what's best  –  she just isn't being reasonable."

"And what's best is … ?"

Noah stated the obvious. "For us to marry and raise the baby here."

Gideon touched his rib cage.

"Touché," Noah said. "Ready."

"Can't blame her for hesitating. We've never been the favored family of the county," Gideon said.

"That's in the past," Noah insisted. It was one of his greatest passions  to put the bad Coltrane reputation in the past and to build a new one  based on respect. "All of us have worked to put that in the past."

"Yeah, but for Pete's sake, did you have to pick that Logan woman? Why not someone a little more easygoing?"

"You mean a woman who doesn't have the ability to slice a man to ribbons  with her tongue?" Noah asked, pushing Gideon closer to the back wall.

"Yeah," Gideon said, swinging his sword for all he was worth.

"Someone more submissive," Noah said, thinking Martina would probably stab them both if she heard this discussion.

"Yeah. It sounds like you might as well be trying to seduce a porcupine," Gideon said. "A pregnant porcupine."

Noah lunged and pressed the tip of his sword to the protective material  covering Gideon's heart. Martina might be acting like a porcupine, but  Noah had experienced the soft, giving woman behind the quills. He was  determined to find that woman again.

"Touché," his brother said with a shake of his head. "Hell, you make a great case for contraception. What are you going to do?"

"The same thing I do in a fencing match. Find her weakness and exploit  it." Noah knew he sounded ruthless, but he wasn't playing for fun with  Martina. He was playing for blood, his family name and his child.

* * *

He found her reclining on a chaise longue in her backyard in the late  afternoon. Dressed in shorts and a maternity tank top she'd lifted above  her belly while she rested. Her legs were long and lithe, and knowing  the baby she carried was his made him want her in an elemental way. Her  expression was soft, almost wistful and her gaze was faraway. He  remembered how she had once looked at him with passion-drenched eyes,  and he wondered what tender thoughts she could be thinking right now.

He walked closer and heard her say, "I look like a beached whale. I can't even reach my toenails to paint them."

Noah saw the bottle of nail polish beside her, and his gaze shot to the  next yard. He saw a woman wearing a bikini. He bit back a chuckle. "You  still have the best legs in Texas," he said.                       
       
           



       

She turned her head quickly, and her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. "I, uh, was just-"

"-feeling sorry for yourself," he finished for her. "I brought Chinese food for dinner. Does it agree with you?"

Martina sighed. "Unfortunately every food agrees with me now. And I wasn't feeling sorry for myself."

"Uh-huh," he said, without an ounce of conviction.

Martina stood. No, really. I-"

"Martina, you are a very beautiful woman, pregnant or not pregnant. You just haven't had a man around to remind you."

She stared at him for a long moment, revealing a glimpse of the woman  he'd known in Chicago. She took a deep breath. "Don't flatter me."

"I won't," he assured her. "I just tell the truth. I'd say something  else," he said, allowing his gaze to linger on her full breasts. "But I  don't want you to take a swing at me. You might hurt yourself. Are you  hungry for Chinese food or not?"