EXPECTING HIS CHILD (8 page)

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

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"
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?"

"Only if you were thinking straight," Adam said.

"Absolutely not. Martina Logan has just fallen into my lap, and I may not be in the best condition, but I plan to take full advantage of the situation. If I have anything to say about it, she won't be leaving."

Adam helped Noah around the corner to the bedroom. He rubbed his face with his hand and looked at Noah with an expression that mixed admiration and pity. "If she's gonna stay, you'd better get that house finished. The boys won't know what to do with a pregnant woman in the house. A
Logan
at that."

* * *

Martina spent the day bringing Noah beverages, encouraging him to stay away from the computer, intercepting telephone calls and telling him to rest. Before today, she'd had no concept of how busy his plans for the ranch and trading on the stock market kept him. Keeping him from the computer and the phone presented an ongoing tug-of-war. By afternoon, she was tempted to spike his drink with a sleeping pill.

She glanced at the clock –
11 p.m.
– and gazed again at Noah. He was the most driven man she'd ever met in her life. All that passion drew and excited her at the same time that it repelled her. The thought struck her that he was so hard-driven, so much harder on himself than anyone else, that he could use a soft woman in his life.

In that case, Martina wryly thought, he didn't need her. She couldn't help but notice that the Coltrane home needed a woman's touch the way a flower needed rain, but adding a woman's touch to a bunch of rogue brothers in West Texas had never been her life's aspiration. Martina had always prized independence, respect and autonomy. In secret moments in the dark, she had wished for a special love with a man, but she'd never been able to meld her need for independence with her longing for love.

Looking at Noah with his mussed dark hair, black eyelashes against his tanned skin, and broad shoulders, she was struck anew by how complex he was. He was so strong it was difficult for her to imagine him needing anyone, especially her.

She lifted her hand to touch his forehead, then thought better of it and lowered her hand to her lap.

His eyes flickered open, and for a moment she wondered if he'd read her thoughts.

"You're supposed to be asleep," she whispered.

He glanced at the clock. "So are you."

"What do you want to drink with your pain medication?"

"No…" he began, and his lips twitched
. "
Just water."

Martina filled his glass in the bathroom that adjoined his bedroom to hers and brought it to him. He grimaced as he turned, but quickly downed the pills and water. "Thanks. Did you get anything to eat?"

"Yes, your brothers kept bringing me sandwiches. It was almost as if they thought I was a hungry animal and I'd get nasty if I didn't get fed."

His lips twitched again. "Can't imagine where they got that impression."

Realization hit Martina. "What did you tell them about me?"

"Just that feeding you tends to keep you in a good mood. You gotta remember we haven't had a woman around for a long time, so they don't really know what to do with you."

"You didn't seem to have that problem." The comment heedlessly popped out of her mouth.

His eyes darkened with sensual awareness. "I always thought it was important to learn what gives a woman pleasure."

"That sounds like you've had quite a bit of practice," she said.

"I've had a few relationships," he conceded. "No woman got me anywhere near the altar.
Except you."

Martina opened her mouth to remind him of the very obvious point that the reason he wanted to get married wasn't that she had bowled him over. It was that she was pregnant with his child. He still had circles under his eyes and she could tell his ribs were hurting, so she didn't want to argue with him. He needed to sleep.

"I wasn't your first, either, Martina," Noah said quietly.

She closed her eyes, torn between revealing the truth and keeping her mouth shut.

"You didn't love me like a virgin would."

His assumption irritated her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "How many virgins have you been with?"

He paused, rubbed his chin,
then
narrowed his eyes. "None."

"Then I guess you wouldn't know, would you?"

He looked at her in disbelief. "I can't believe you made it into your twenties without having a lover."

"Well, you might be forgetting my two older brothers, who pretty much threatened to cut off the genitals of any man who dated me longer than a month. I graduated from a women's college and I like my independence."

"But you made love to me like a woman who knows how to please a man."

"I didn't want you to know how inexperienced I was."

"Why me, then? Why me for your first lover? A man your family would hate. A main you couldn't share a future with."

"I think knowing I couldn't share a future with you was part of it. It made you safe. You wouldn't want to marry me any more than I would want to marry you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if his head was aching. Concerned, Martina touched his shoulder. "Do you need some headache medication?"

"No, I just want to make sure I understand this. The entire reason you got involved with me was that you knew we wouldn't get married?"

Martina pulled away. "Well, no. That wasn't all of it. I was very attracted to you. I was probably even fascinated," she grudgingly revealed. "I loved the way your mind worked."

He glanced at her with a predatory glint in his eye and tugged her down onto his bed. "Still very attracted?"

Martina's heart stuttered. "You need to go to sleep."

He skimmed his finger down her bare arm. "You didn't answer my question. Still very attracted?"

She felt a shiver. "You really do need to rest."

He leaned forward, his lips a breath away from hers. "If you love the way my mind works, why do you fight me so much?"

Martina's mouth went dry and she tried to swallow. "You're a little overwhelming."

"Not for you," he said, rubbing his mouth against hers, creating a delicious buzz. "You're strong, sweetheart. You can take me anytime you want, so why don't you?"

Martina's stomach tightened. His mouth played over hers, teasing, taunting and inviting. He lifted her hand to his shoulder, as if offering his smooth skin and hard muscle for her pleasure.

He made it so easy to touch him and to want him unbearably. He made it so easy to believe at this moment that he would not deliberately bend her will to his.

He slid his hands to the underside of her breasts and gave a sigh that mixed desire and frustration. "I want to make love to you."

A dozen yes and no replies stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard. "You're still recovering. Your ribs are broken, your lung—"

"You could have a healing effect on me," he murmured, his thumbs moving closer to the tips of her breasts.

Martina shook away the thick cloud of wanting. "That's a ridiculous line," she whispered.

"Maybe we should stop talking."

His thumb glanced over her nipple and Martina felt herself begin to melt. She fought it. "Maybe we should start thinking," she said, and forced herself to push away from him.

Standing, she resisted the urge to fan herself. She felt hot from the inside out, and she knew the air conditioner was running full blast. Filled to the brim with such wanting, she feared she would turn into a pillar of salt if she dared even to look at him.

"I've dreamed of making love to you in my bed."

Martina looked at his big bed with the golden oak headboard and royal-blue coverlet. It was easy to visualize him naked and wrapped around her. She squished her eyes closed and banished the images from her mind. "Go to sleep, Noah. You need your rest."

And Martina needed her sanity.

* * *

By the following Friday, Noah wanted to fight. Cooped up in the house with his ribs hurting, sitting up in bed every night, blowing into that damn lung machine every hour and having Martina in his house but not in his bed and not to stay made him want to kick down a few doors. To make matters worse, he couldn't even engage his brother Gideon in a good frustration-reducing fencing match because he wasn't supposed to raise his arms.