Leanne Banks - Expecting His Child

Noah struggled with the images that raced through his mind. Images where she had been laid bare beneath him, crying out his name. Images where she had looked into his eyes and he had gotten lost in the depths of her. At the time, he could have sworn she’d been equally lost in him.

“When did you start gaining the weight, Martina?” he asked. “About eight to twelve weeks after the last time you were with me? You must be over six months pregnant.”

Her smile slipped slightly. “I don’t remember when I started gaining weight,” she said.

Another way of pleading the Fifth, Noah thought cynically. “And I’ll bet you’ll lose a lot of this weight suddenly,” he said, his emotions roiling like the Galveston beach before a storm.

“The baby’s mine, isn’t it,” he said, cutting through her ridiculous story. He decided this situation was going to require the best combination of his instincts and brain.

She dropped her hand from her hair and clasped both of her palms in front of her abdomen. Her gaze narrowed and her eyes glinted with a mixture of fear and fight. “My baby,” she corrected. “Who told you?”

“No one. I looked at you and knew,” he said, his entire body clenching with the knowledge that Martina was carrying his baby. “You need to let me in,” he said, surprised at the calm tone of his voice. He felt as if she had set off a bomb inside him.

Martina bristled. “This isn’t a good time. I’m busy working right now. My company is allowing me to design web pages from home, but I do have deadlines.”

“When is a good time?” Noah asked, baiting her. “Next year?”

Martina’s smile vanished and she set her chin. “Next year is too soon.”

It occurred to Noah that this woman could have easily inspired the saying Don’t mess with Texas. She tried to close the screen door in his face, but he caught it with his boot. “I’m not going away.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m over my quota of pushy, overbearing men in my life. I don’t respond well to force.”

He nodded. “Good,” he said. “I only use force as a last resort when I’m dealing with someone who is being unreasonable.”

She looked at him with skepticism, but stepped away from the door.

Martina had dreaded this day. She’d known she would have to tell Noah about the baby someday. She’d decided an e-mail, fax or message sent by carrier pigeon would be much preferable to a face-to-face confrontation. The time had never seemed right. As a rule she didn’t procrastinate, but she’d broken several rules by getting involved with Noah in the first place.

As he walked past her, she remembered some of the silly reasons she’d allowed herself to get involved with him. His height. She’d always been tall, and it had felt good to be held by a man several inches taller. She’d liked the way he smelled—of leather and spicy musk. She’d liked the sound of his voice and the way his mind worked.

After living with a father and two brothers determined to protect, defend and dominate her, being with a reasonable man who treated her as an equal had gone to her head like too much tequila.

Martina had the unnerving intuition that she might not be able to count on Noah to be reasonable right now.

He glanced around her den, then walked toward her. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the formidable expression on his face.

“When were you going to tell me?” he asked in a calm voice at odds with the turbulence in his eyes.

Her stomach fluttered with nerves. “I was going to tell you. I just hadn’t figured out how.”

“When? After the baby was born? After our child took first steps or went to school? Or reached legal age?”

The sense of betrayal in his voice scraped at her. She struggled with shame and frustration. “I should have told you. It would have been the right thing to do, but it was wrong to get involved with you in the first place. When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t believe it was true. I had to come to terms with it on my own.”

“If you’d told me, you wouldn’t have had to do anything alone,” he told her.

Martina’s heart hurt as a dozen memories slammed through her. “We knew when we got involved that it couldn’t last. You said we could pretend while we were in Chicago. You never talked about a future with me because you knew there wouldn’t be one.”

He rested his hands on his hips. “The baby changes things.”

Her stomach sank at the determination in his voice. “For me and maybe for you, but not for us.”

“You should have told me.”

“Yes, well, I had to get used to the idea first. And having my brothers find out a Coltrane was the father…” She broke off and grimaced at the memory of that confrontation.

“What’d they do?” Noah asked. “Look at you like you were giving birth to the anti-Christ?”

“At first,” she said. “But I set them straight.”

“Who did you tell them was the father?”

“I told them the stork did it,” she said, but the flip remark didn’t work its charm. “When you showed up at my brother’s wedding like the Lone Ranger, it became difficult to deny paternity.” She took a careful breath. “I have handled this on my own. I got through the shock and morning sickness and everything else on my own. I’m strong. I can handle the rest alone, too.”

He gave a wry half smile that somehow looked dangerous. “We never got around to discussing children, but I have some definite opinions on the subject. The first is that the parents should be married. You and I should marry as soon as possible.”

Martina gaped at him. If he hadn’t been dead serious, she would have laughed. “You must not have heard me. I have put up with three domineering men in my life—my father and brothers—and I am not interested in tying myself till death do us part to another.”

“This baby deserves two parents. Both of us will want to be involved in raising the child. I don’t walk away from my responsibilities.”

There wasn’t an ounce of give in his voice, but he struck on one issue she’d been unable to resolve in her heart and mind. Martina wanted the best for her child, but she couldn’t marry Noah. “We can work out visitation,” she began, trying to pump conviction into her tone.

“That’s another thing that’s stupid. It’s crazy for you to live alone here in Dallas when you can live at my family ranch.”

Everything inside her balked. “Now I know you’re insane. Have you forgotten that my family home borders your property? Do you think my brothers and your brothers are going to have a party over this? I don’t think so. Plus, there is the Logan curse. Women bearing the Logan name have shown an annoying tendency to kick the bucket when they fall in love and get married. I’ll admit I never thought the curse applied to me, but on the off chance that it does, I have a pretty powerful reason to stay alive and healthy. My baby.”

Noah stood there silently. He looked as if he was reining himself in, processing every word she’d said. Planning.

Martina felt a sinking sensation, but kept her back ramrod straight. She was no sissy, she told herself. She could handle Noah Coltrane.

“We’ll talk again,” he said, pulling out a pen and business card and scratching some numbers on the back of it. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. Cell number’s on the back.” He met her gaze again. “You said your family curse means a Logan woman will die when she marries. You forget. When you marry me, you won’t be a Logan woman. You’ll be a Coltrane.”

“When cows do algebra,” she fumed as she watched Noah walk out her door. “I’ll be a Coltrane when Texans stop arguing over water rights, when your brothers and my brothers give each other big hugs, which will be never,” she continued, even though she was only talking to the air that Noah had breathed and the space he had invaded. His presence was still disturbing even though he was gone. “I’ll be a Coltrane when the stars fall over West Texas.”