by Leanne Banks
"No," he muttered. "But there are better ways to keep warm." He continued to slide his finger up the inside of her thigh. When he encountered bare skin, surprise flickered across his face and he met her gaze. "The person who invented thigh-highs is due a thousand thank-yous." He lowered his mouth to hers and said against her lips, "You keep surprising me."
Martina swallowed all her doubts and lost herself in his kiss. She was totally out of her depth with this man and could only hope she was concealing that fact. He slid his tongue over hers, teasing her to give him what he wanted. Her entire body clamored in response. Her breath grew short, her nipples tightened, and she grew moist and swollen.
Back and forth Noah rubbed the exposed sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, mirroring the way he had taken her more intimately at other times. Hot and restless, Martina suckled his tongue deeper.
Noah shuddered and pulled back slightly. "Everything about you is one big tease for me." He pushed her skirt farther up her legs and dipped his fingers beneath the edge of her panties. "You're the apple I'm not supposed to eat, but tasting you isn't enough. I want all of you."
The mixture of overwhelming frustration and desire in his voice echoed inside her. Although neither she nor Noah ever spoke of their families, the long-standing grudge stood between them, a silent, strong barrier that prevented them from getting as close to each other as they wanted. Martina wanted him. She wanted to drink his words and endlessly explore his mind. She wanted to make him ache the same terrible delicious way he made her ache.
Whenever he kissed her, the air around them seemed to grow thick, just as it did before a storm. She felt that same impending sense that something powerful was going to happen. When they made love, it always did inside her. Martina struggled with the strange feeling that her premonition represented something larger than this moment, but her mind grew cloudy with passion.
Impatient with the obstacles between them and the restraint that kept her from being with him fully, she pushed all thoughts of her family and his aside. She ruthlessly banished everything but him from her mind.
Tugging at the buttons on his shirt, she pulled it open and ran her hands over his warm, solid chest. Instinct driving her, she slid her fingers down to the top of his jeans and pulled his belt loose. She brushed her open mouth against his, then slid her lips down his throat to his chest. She dipped her hands beneath his jeans to where he was hard and aroused.
He sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" he asked, his fingers exploring her soft, damp secrets. "Do you know what you want, Tina?"
The tension in her core and mind tightened, and she felt hot inside and out. Had she ever wanted this much? Staggering desire and fear mingled. She swallowed, shoving the fear away. "I want you," she said, hearing the telltale huskiness in her own voice. "I want everything."
Her words seemed to make him combust. He pulled her panties away so that she was bare beneath him. Gazing at her naked femininity with a carnal, claiming expression, he lowered his mouth to the inside of her thigh and kissed.
Martina gasped. The near intimacy made her feel incredibly vulnerable. "I … I…"
"Hang on," he said, and took her with his lips.
Flexing her fingers in his hair, she felt consumed and utterly possessed. His tongue laved the pearl of her femininity, creating a tender, delicious friction, sending her over the top once, then again.
Martina cried out, and Noah pulled back. He lowered his jeans, fully exposing his huge arousal and drawing her hand to touch him. She stroked his hard shaft and he closed his eyes as if torn between pleasure and pain.
Trembling, she pulled herself up and tentatively pressed her lips to him. She opened her mouth over him and tasted the heady flavor of his passion.
Noah swore under his breath. "Not this time. I want to be inside you," he muttered, and eased her back on the desk.
In one swift thrust, he took her, and Martina knew she would never be the same.
She awakened with a gasp and bolted upright. Her heart pounding, her body hot, she took deep breaths and tried to gather her composure. Her cotton gown rubbed against her sensitive nipples. She was aroused, Martina realized in surprise. She closed her eyes against the sensations. She had been dreaming about Noah, and the dream had felt an awful lot like the one time she and Noah had made love and forgotten about contraception. The time, she realized, that their baby had been conceived. She'd heard there was a thin line between dreams and memories.
She rubbed her cheeks in dismay. Martina had tried so hard to run from Noah. First in Chicago, then in her mind and heart. She had only succeeded in delaying the inevitable. Now he was walking in her dreams.
* * *
Martina stared at the Web page she was constructing on her computer screen and heard a knock at her door. Actually, banging was a better description.
"Surprise!" called the familiar voices of her brothers and their families.
Smiling, she clicked "save" and hurried to the front door. Her two brothers, their wives, and her niece and nephews stood on her front porch.
"Aunt Martina, we've got presents for the baby in your tummy!" yelled Sam, Tyler and Jill's newly adopted son.
Martina swung open the door and gave the little boy a hug. He had been one of Tyler's patients, and the way the three of them had become a family still moved her. "Hurry up and bring them to me, so I can open them all."
Sam looked at her with huge brown eyes. "Why? Is the baby gonna pop out right now?"
Martina laughed and shook her head at Tyler and Jill. "Not yet. I just love presents."
She stood and hugged the rest of the crowd, amazed at the number of gifts. "Y'all did too much. My goodness, what possessed you?"
Brock, her oldest brother, hauled in a bassinet. "We kept hoping you would see reason and move back to the ranch with Felicity, Bree, Jacob and me."
"Or in with Jill and me," Tyler said pointedly.
Martina sighed and her heart swelled with love for her brothers. "I guess you two are never going to stop looking after me."
Brock and Tyler glanced knowingly at each other, then back at her. "No," they both said at once.
"You need a keeper," Brock said.
"And it takes both of us to do the job," Tyler added.
Unbidden tears filled her eyes, catching her off guard. She gave a muffled sound of dismay and swiped them away.
Tyler immediately looked concerned. "You're crying? You'd rather eat glass than cry. What's wrong? Is something wrong with you or the baby?"
"No, I'm fine. Darn pregnancy hormones," she said quickly. Martina felt a twinge of the old frustration she'd felt as long as she could remember. Her brothers still didn't believe she could take care of herself. Even though she was twenty-four, gainfully employed, single, pregnant… She sighed. The single and pregnant part probably hadn't helped her case.
She smiled and kissed each brother on the cheek. "I'm not going to argue with you today. I'm too delighted with your visit." She glanced at her nephew Jacob. "Is that a swing?"
"My idea," Bree, her niece, said. "I baby-sit for the Walters, and the only time their baby stops screaming is when I put her in the swing. I have to keep cranking theirs, but the one we got you has a setting for infinity. That means it never stops."
Martina had a fleeting frightening image of her baby spending the first year of his life in a swing. Her dismay must have shown.
Brock's wife, Felicity, laughed. She put her arm around Martina. "She's exaggerating. Mrs. Walters usually asks Bree to keep the baby during colic time."
"If you moved in with us, Aunt Martina, I could take care of your baby during colic time," Bree said, slyly glancing at her father.
Brock gave a wink of approval.
Although she smelled a conspiracy, Martina's heart swelled at the obvious love between Brock and his daughter. The closeness they shared was the exact opposite of what Martina and her father had shared, and she than
ked the Lord her precious niece wouldn't spend her childhood trying to make her father love her.
"That's tempting," Martina said, giving Bree a quick squeeze. "Maybe you can come stay with me awhile after the baby is born."
"I will," Felicity offered.
"So will I," Jill said.
Brock and Tyler exchanged a look of dissatisfaction. "It's bad enough that you won't move in with us," Tyler said.
"Where you belong," Brock added meaningfully. "Now you're going to make us live without our wives."
"Temporarily," Jill said, still a newlywed. She shot a flirty smile at Tyler. "The reunion could be enjoyable."
Tyler plastered a stern expression on his face. "There she goes doing that PR thing again, trying to tell me a sow's ear is a silk purse."
"It's like what she did with you," Martina said with mock innocence, referring to the advertising campaign Jill had used to help Tyler raise money for the new pediatric wing at his hospital. "Got a great photographer, featured you in fund-raising ads and turned you into the state's most wanted doctor."
He slid his arm around Jill. "That ad campaign turned out to be costly, since she paid for it by becoming my wife."
"Best thing I ever did," Jill said.
Martina could see the love flowing between Tyler and Jill and felt a twinge of envy. They were practically glowing with devotion. It was disgusting. "Stop. This is so sweet I could throw up. Neither of you look as if you're suffering. Let's all go into the den while I get a good look at all the goodies you brought me."
Martina served lemonade while her brothers assembled the swing, a bassinet and a changing table.
Her nephew Jacob presented her with a dozen pacifiers.
He had flourished under Felicity's care. Who would have thought a boy could become more of a man by getting a Manhattan heiress for a stepmother? Martina glanced at her well-dressed, warm-hearted sister-in-law. Felicity had worked magic for everyone at the Logan ranch. Sighing, Martina supposed the Logans had been due a change of luck in the romance department, and she was glad love had found her brothers, even if it hadn't found her.
"Thank you," she said to Jacob, bewildered by the variety of pacifiers. "But why so many?"
He shrugged and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "Bree said babies don't always like the first pacifier, so I thought I'd give the baby a choice just in case he hollers like Dad says I did when I was little."
Martina's lips twitched. "Babies don't cry all the time."
"I know," he said. "They sleep and poop, too. That's why we filled up the back seat with diapers. I'll bring 'em in."
Martina opened her mouth to respond, but the doorbell rang, interrupting her. She walked to the front door and opened it to a man dressed in a mechanic's uniform. "I'm Jimmy Steen with Lone Star Auto Service Center, and I'm here to check a car that belongs to Martina Logan."
Hearing her brothers approach behind her, she shook her head. "Why? I haven't had any problems."
"We got a call from—" he pulled a folded paper from his pocket "—Coltrane," he said. "Noah Coltrane called and asked us to make sure your vehicle is in perfect running condition."
"Coltrane," Brock ominously echoed behind her. "I thought he was staying away from you."
"He better be staying away from you," Tyler said.
Martina's stomach twisted. "This isn't a good time," she said to the mechanic and turned to face her brothers. Even though they had almost suffocated her by overprotecting her, Martina loved Brock and Tyler with all her heart. Brock still wore a scar on his cheek from rescuing her from an unbroken horse when she was a toddler. Tyler had done things for her most brothers wouldn't dream of, such as painting her nails and braiding her hair. They had tried to make up for her father's lack of attention and love.
This was why she and Noah could never be together. This and the fact that Noah wasn't truly in love with her.
She swallowed over a tight feeling in her throat. "Noah found me," she said quietly. "He knows I'm having his baby."
Tyler's jaw hardened. "He hasn't tried to hurt you in any way, has he?"
"No, not at all." She bit her lip. "He, uh, wanted me to marry him, but of course I said no."
"Of course," Brock said. "He should know better. You'd never marry a good-for-nothing Coltrane."
Felicity joined them, catching Martina's gaze. "He might not be totally good-for-nothing," she said. "After all, Martina must have seen something in him."
"That was a fling," Tyler said.
"A big mistake," Brock said. "She was vulnerable and homesick and he took advantage of her."
Felicity raised a fine eyebrow. "You could be underestimating both Martina and Noah."
"I know Noah Coltrane," Tyler said. "I traded punches with him throughout high school."
Felicity bristled. "I'm a little sensitive to the idea that zebras don't change their stripes, because I did. Are you the same person you were in high school?"
"No, but…" Brock narrowed his eyes. "Why are you taking up for Noah? You know the problems the Coltranes have caused."
The possibility of her brother and sister-in-law fighting filled Martina with distress. "This isn't necessary," she began.
Felicity locked gazes with her husband. "Circumstances are different now. We have to think about what's best for Martina and her baby."
"That doesn't include Noah Coltrane," Brock returned.
"That's not for you to decide."
"Please stop," Martina said, feeling close to tears. "If ever a man didn't need someone to defend him, it's Noah. He's quite capable of defending himself. And this discussion is moot because the stars will have to fall on Texas before Noah and I get married."
Both of her brothers visibly relaxed, but Felicity still wore a look of concern. "Jacob tells me you brought me diapers," Martina said to her. "Why don't you bring them in while I go up to the nursery?"
Martina walked to the nursery and tried to gather her wits. The one thing she hated most about pregnancy was this completely foreign but overwhelming urge to cry. Feeling pulled in opposite directions at once, she bit her lip to get her emotions under control.
"Martina," Felicity said from the doorway.
Martina stiffened her backbone and turned to find both sisters-in-law watching her. "You really don't need to defend Noah."
"I've talked with him," Felicity said.
Martina gaped at her and lifted her shoulders in confusion. "How? When?"
"I ran into him at the bookstore one day. Actually, he saw me and remembered me from the wedding. He asked me to have coffee with him. He was so polite and so hungry for information about you that I couldn't refuse. I felt guilty afterward, but Brock and Tyler are so unreasonable about the Coltranes."
"I second that," Jill said.
Martina felt confused and exposed. "What did he ask you?"
"Little things. Your favorite food and color. Between you and Brock, I've gathered enough about you that I could answer most of his questions. I told him if he hurt you I would cut out his heart. His reply is what made me think that everyone needs to give Noah Coltrane a chance."
Martina almost didn't want to hear what Noah had said. She was having a difficult time holding fast to her determination to keep him at arm's length.
"What did he say?" Jill asked.
"He said if he hurt you, he would supply me with the sword."
A chill ran through Martina.
"I know what it's like to be underestimated. I think you do too," Felicity said. "Don't underestimate Noah. Do what is best for you."
"I am. Noah doesn't really love me," she said, forcing the words from her mouth as much for herself as for Jill and Felicity. "This is some kind of male, family-honor thing for him."
Jill looked undecided. "We just want you to know we're here for you whatever you choose to do." She brushed her hands together as if dispensing with the conversational topic. "Speaking of choices, what would you like to do now?"
Sit down and cry, Ma
rtina wanted to say. Instead, she swallowed her emotions and said, "I'd like to decide where to put everything you brought." She pretended to focus on the task at hand, but in her mind, she felt Noah's presence. The strange connection she'd felt with him in Chicago and buried when she'd left wrapped around her like a silken rope. Soft but deceptively strong. Felicity and Brock's argument played through her mind in stereo, however, reminding her that she couldn't give in to crazy fantasies about Noah.
For her family. For herself.
* * *
Chapter 6
«^»
Martina glanced at her cuckoo clock for the fortieth time and scowled. She was getting used to his calls and his visits. When he'd called last night, he'd told her he would see her tonight around seven. It was after eight. What if he'd been in an accident? Her heart stuttered at the thought. Had he forgotten? She struggled with pure liquid fury.
She'd been reviewing the same part of a Web page for the past thirty minutes. She shouldn't care. It shouldn't matter. In fact, she should be relieved. After all, Noah had become an unwelcome intruder in her life.
The doorbell rang and she sprang from her chair and ran to open the front door. "Where in hell have you been?" she asked, searching Noah's face. "You look tired."
"A tractor-trailer turned over on the highway, spilled oil over the road. I had to take a detour."
"Oh," Martina said, and took a careful breath. "Did you forget your cell phone?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I tried a couple of times, but I must've been in a dead zone." He met her gaze. "Are you pissed off or upset?"
Martina felt a surge of conflicting emotions and the terrible, overwhelming urge to cry. "Oh, damn," she muttered. "Damn. Absolutely not," she sternly told herself.
"Huh?" Noah reached out to lift her chin so he could see her face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm not," she insisted.
His brow wrinkled. "Then what's wrong?"
Martina shook her head and took several quick breaths. "I'm fine. I'm not going to cry."
He looked at her in shock. "Cry?"
"I'm not going to cry," she said, closing her eyes and feeling a tiny tear escape the corner of one.
