His Heir, Her Secret (Highland Heroes Book 1)

by Janice Maynard

  “Aren’t you supposed to give up caffeine?” he said.

  “Stop it. Right now. I refuse to take pregnancy advice from a man who has probably never even changed a baby’s diaper.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Have you?”

  “No. but that’s beside the point. Seriously, Brody. You’ll be in the way right now. I think I can load a few boxes without fainting.”

  He popped the tab on his soft drink and took a swallow. When he set the can on the table, his lips quirked. “Sorry, Cate. I can’t go back up the mountain without you.”

  She pointed a finger. “You’re scared of your grandmother.”

  “Damned straight. Besides, I thought you and I could make plans for the wedding while I help you pack.”

  His bland smile infuriated her. “There’s no wedding...nothing to plan. This baby is mine. This pregnancy is mine. You’re off the hook. If Miss Izzy is pressuring you, I’ll talk to her.”

  Brody got a funny look on his face.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Actually, Granny told me not to press the marriage thing.”

  Cate swallowed, refusing to admit her feelings were hurt. Did the tiny Scotswoman think Cate wasn’t good enough for her grandson? “I see.” She took a quick breath. “It’s just as well. I told you it was a bad idea.”

  Brody leaned forward, elbows on the table, his gaze direct and intent. “You can trust me, Cate. I would never cheat on you, I swear. And our kid will have every advantage.”

  “I’m not interested in your money, Brody.”

  “Money isn’t evil.”

  “Maybe not. But it’s not a substitute for love. You said it yourself. You don’t want to settle down. It’s okay. Really it is.”

  “Damn it, Cate.” He jumped to his feet and paced, all evidence of the relaxed Brody wiped away in an instant. “You have to understand. My parents divorced when Duncan and I were children.”

  “I know. Isobel told me. And I’m sorry. But that’s all the more reason not to jump into marriage.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. Up until now. I felt like such a stupid clueless kid when they split up. I thought they were pretty cool parents, actually. I never heard them arguing or fighting. At least not until they decided they were done. After that things got bad fast. That’s when Duncan and I came to the States and spent a few months with Grandda and Granny.”

  “You were lucky to have them.”

  “More than you know. What I’m trying to say is that I spouted off some stupid stuff to you. But I want to retract that self-righteous speech. I need a do-over. Please, Cate.”

  Her chest burned. “You and I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “You don’t know that.” He paused behind her chair and stroked the back of her neck. “We have something powerful between us, Cate,” he said quietly. “We could make it work.”

  She stood up to face him. The fact that she wanted so badly to say yes told her she had to fight. “I can’t do this right now. You’re pressuring me, and it’s not fair.”

  “So you’ll think about it?” His lopsided smile was disarming.

  “If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

  He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “If you’re expecting me to be honest, you won’t like my answer.”

  “Forget it,” she muttered.

  He caught a flyaway strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “I suppose...” But she tensed inwardly.

  His shoulders hunched the tiniest bit as if he was uncomfortable. “Would it be weird if I touched your stomach? I’d like to feel it. The baby, I mean.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed. “I don’t think it’s weird. You do remember I was half-naked with you last night?”

  His chuckle sounded raspy. “I might have been a tad single-minded. Plus, you distracted me with your Amazonian breasts.”

  “Oh, please. They’re not that big.” She couldn’t help giggling, and then was mortified.

  “Made you laugh.”

  His satisfied masculine smile caught something deep in her heart and squeezed it hard. Being with Brody was like the first day of summer vacation. Everything seemed exciting and new, bursting with possibilities.

  She bit her lip and told herself this tiny moment was no big deal. Lifting her shirt with one hand, she lowered the zipper on her old faded jeans. The pants hadn’t been buttoned anyway. When she glanced up, Brody’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes had a weird unfocused look to them.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “It’s fine.”

  Slowly, he reached out and laid his large, warm palm flat on her swollen belly. Her navel and the surrounding real estate had never been particularly erogenous zones. But when Brody Stewart caressed the barely-there mound from the baby they had created together, her knees weakened, and she felt everything inside her melt.

  She thought he might jerk his hand away. Seeing and touching the reality of conception was much different from a theoretical discussion about babies and marriage. Still, far from seeming squeamish about the pregnancy, Brody’s gaze held wonder. “What does it feel like, Cate?”

  “Odd. Wonderful. As if I have a secret, and I want to savor it.” Did he even realize he was stroking her? Back and forth. Softly. Gently.

  “Do you know if you want a boy or a girl?”

  “I’ve thought about it, of course. I understand girls better than I do boys. The latter idea scares me, to be honest.”

  Having Brody touch her like this eroded all her high-minded notions of keeping distance between them. She should step away...break the connection. But how could she move when he was so obviously spellbound by the changes in her body?

  Nine

  Brody was flooded with all sorts of disconcerting emotions. He wanted to coddle Cate and at the same time, he was consumed with a throbbing, urgent desire that went way beyond simple physical lust. Her gently convex tummy fascinated him. She was carrying a brand-new life. How incredible...

  Only when goose bumps covered her skin did he realize how long he had been touching her. It was a struggle, but he made himself break the connection. “Thank you,” he said gruffly.

  She flushed adorably, tugging down her shirt and fussing with the zipper on her jeans. “Of course.”

  “Does it make me an insensitive male if I say I’ll enjoy watching you get bigger?”

  Cate wrinkled her nose. “I think fat is the word you’re looking for...”

  Brody chuckled. “I won’t win this argument. C’mon, lass. Let’s get started on your packing. The sooner I get you up to Granny’s house, the happier she’ll be.”

  In the end, it took them barely an hour to fill three suitcases and seven boxes, but they still weren’t done. When Cate insisted on unloading the entire small bookshelf beside her bed, he winced and scratched his head. “Ye own a bookstore, woman. And I happen to know you have an e-reader. Why in the devil are we taking all these?”

  His grandmother’s houseguest-to-be thrust out her jaw, her expression mulish and determined. “My books make me happy and comfortable. I didn’t know there was a limit on how much I was allowed to bring with me.”

  He held up both hands in surrender. “No limit. My apologies. But don’t blame me if this won’t fit into the two cars.”

  Cate sat down on the bed and burst into tears.

  “What did I say? Is this a hormone thing?” Dear Lord, he was out of his depth already.

  His question only made things worse. With a sigh of resignation, he joined her on the mattress and put an arm around her, tugging her head onto his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, my sweet Catie girl. Don’t cry.”

  Seeing the capable, unflappable woman dissolve into an emotional mess shook him to the core. How was he supposed to support her and help her if
she wouldn’t let him get close?

  Intuitively, he kept his mouth shut and simply held her. It pleased him that her hair was down. He stroked it absently, feeling the silken strands beneath his fingers. When Cate’s sobs finally dwindled to sniffles, he reached for a box of tissues on her nightstand and handed it to her.

  While she blew her nose, he studied her face...saw the smudges beneath her eyes. “You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?” he asked.

  Cate grabbed another tissue, her gaze wary and embarrassed. “How do you know that?”

  “You get weepy when you’re tired. I remember.”

  She bit her lower lip. “How can I sleep when my whole world is about to change?”

  “I have a solution for that.” He pulled back the comforter. “You need a nap, lass. It’s Sunday. We’ve most of the packing done. When you wake up, I’ll take you out for lunch or we’ll order pizza.”

  “I’m not a child,” she huffed. But she scooted underneath the covers and yawned.

  Brody smoothed the sheets and pulled everything up to her chin. “Do you mind if I stay here with you? I’ve had a few sleepless nights lately myself.”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We’re not having sex.”

  “No, ma’am. I understand. But turns out, there are other things a man and a woman can do in bed together. I’ll even stay on top of the covers if that will make you happy.”

  “It would make me happy if you had gone back to Scotland,” she grumbled. But her protest was halfhearted at best.

  Brody kicked off his shoes and stretched out with a sigh. The brief hint of spring had come and gone quickly. It was cold again. And damp. Cate must have turned the heat down when she was working. Now the air in the apartment seemed frigid.

  When he shivered involuntarily, Cate snorted. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Get under the blankets, you big ornery Scotsman. But if you lay a hand on me, I’ll scream.”

  He hurried to take her up on the offer before she changed her mind. As he settled in beside her, his muscles and bones relaxed instinctively. Ah, bliss. Four months ago he had spent a lot of time in this very room, though little of it sleeping. Cate’s bed was a wrought iron antique, painted white. The crisp cotton sheets carried a hint of lavender.

  They were both lying on their backs. When he turned on his side to face her, her eyes were open, her head turned toward him. Green irises with flecks of gold were shadowed with thick lashes a shade darker than her hair. She had one arm extended over her head, her fingers grasping a curlicue in the headboard.

  On one memorable occasion he had tied her wrists to that sturdy metal. He shuddered in remembrance.

  Cate closed her eyes. “I’m so tired I can’t see straight, Brody. Would you, could you, just hold me? Please...”

  He dared to tease her. “What about that screaming thing?”

  “Oh, shut up and spoon me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  She turned her back to him, and he scooted in close. For a split second it was as if the world spun backward, and it was October, and he and Cate had just met.

  He put his left arm around her and tucked it beneath her breasts, careful not to do anything that would get him kicked out. “Better?”

  “Hmm...”

  She was already half asleep. He listened to her steady breathing and kissed the nape of her neck softly. Holding her like this would cost him, but it was worth it. When Cate let down her guard, it was as if the past four months had never happened.

  For a long time, he simply breathed in the scent of her. Where her bottom nestled in the cradle of his pelvis, his sex responded painfully. Everything about Cate was perfect for him. The warm, responsive, feminine body. Her sharp wit. A deep compassion for his crotchety granny.

  He didn’t know which was the right thing to do anymore. Didn’t this baby deserve a father? Granny seemed to think that pressuring Cate into marriage was wrong. It wasn’t what Brody thought he wanted. Even Cate seemed reluctant. Yet if he went home, he was almost positive the window of opportunity to secure her trust would be gone forever.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled, feeling the air from deep in his chest escape. If he were at home on the Isle of Skye, he’d be out on the water by now. Boats were the place where he could think. Candlewick was a quaint, charming town, much like a small Scottish village in many ways. But it was landlocked, and Brody felt bereft.

  He must have dozed. His body was comfortable, even while his brain wrestled with weighty matters. Dreams wrapped him in spiderwebs of sensation. Struggling, confused, he pursued something always out of reach.

  When he finally surfaced, Cate was sprawled half on top of him, one of her legs trapping his. She was still asleep.

  He blinked and strained to see his watch. It was almost one thirty, which explained why his stomach was growling. “Catie,” he whispered. If she slept too long, she’d be awake again tonight. “Catie girl. Wake up.”

  “Mmph.” She buried her face in his neck. “Don’t wanna,” she muttered.

  He grinned, palming her bottom and squeezing. “Fair warning, lass. If you stay on top of me much longer, something is going to happen, promise or no promise.”

  One eye opened. Apparently, she hadn’t grasped the compromising nature of her current position. “Did you try to start something with me asleep?”

  “Hey,” he said, genuinely indignant. “You’re the one who moved, not me. Now either go back to your own pillow, or—”

  She put a hand over his mouth, her grin mischievous. “Or what?”

  His little Cate was feeling amorous after her nap, but he couldn’t afford another misstep on his part. He removed her hand. “You said no sex,” he pointed out calmly, although he had an erection that could hammer steel.

  “We’ve both said things we regret,” she said, her tone airy and teasing. “Situations change.” She nipped his bottom lip with sharp teeth and then kissed him lazily.

  He swallowed hard. “You’re not playing fair, lass.”

  “Make me forget, Brody,” she whispered. “Turn back the clock. I liked being crazy and impetuous with you.”

  Something about that last bit bothered him. Was he Cate’s walk on the wild side? “We need to talk,” he said, trying to ignore the way her breasts thrust against the soft cotton knit of her top.

  She unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt and licked his collarbone. “Later, Brody. Later.”

  A man could only withstand so much provocation. “Ah, hell.” He gave in, because to resist her would be insane on multiple levels. Jerking her top over her head and tossing it aside, he sighed with pleasure at the sight of her voluptuous breasts spilling out of her standard-issue white bra. “Being pregnant suits you, lass. Ye’re a feast for the eyes.”

  They attacked each other, ripping at buttons and zippers and laughing as they rolled over and over in the bed. “Don’t let me fall,” she said, the words husky and low.

  “Never, Catie girl. Never.”

  He moved over her and into her and sucked in a startled breath at the tight fit. Despite last night’s insanity at the restaurant gardens, he felt as if he hadn’t had her in days. Greedy and hungry, he thrust to the hilt, pressing the mouth of her womb. Cate’s low groan urged him on.

  * * *

  Cate whimpered when Brody pistoned his hips wildly. What had started as lazy afternoon sex quickly escalated. Sharing this bed with him was at once familiar and new. She carried his child. He wanted her to marry him.

  Wrapping her legs around his waist, she canted her hips, begging him wordlessly for more and then more. Her body was like a stranger to her. Nerve endings and sensations sprang to life, carrying her along on a tide of wanting so intense, she felt as if she literally might die if he stopped.

  Though the room had been cold before, they were both damp with sweat. Brody was still ha
lf dressed, one leg of his jeans down around his ankle. Her bra was trapped somewhere, the strap digging into her arm. Nothing mattered. “Brody,” she gasped. “Brody...”

  His chest heaved with the force of his ragged breaths. Her orgasm bore down on her like a wild, runaway horse straining for freedom. She wanted to feel it all, every incandescent second, but she shattered in his arms, crying out his name again and shuddering endlessly as her body found blissful release.

  Brody cursed and went rigid, filling her with his life force. Then he collapsed on top of her and moaned into her tangled hair.

  Long seconds passed as they struggled for oxygen.

  He stirred at last. “Holy God.” It was more prayer than profanity.

  “I always heard that some pregnant women were insatiable when pregnant. Never thought it would be me.”

  She expected him to laugh. Brody always found a way to make her smile. But for once he was oddly silent. When he eventually levered himself off her and started pulling on his clothes, her stomach growled loudly.

  Brody stood and tucked his shirt into his pants. “How ’bout I grab us a pizza?”

  She nodded, abashed at his odd mood. “That sounds good.”

  “Back in a few.” He scooped up the key to the street entrance and tucked it in his pocket.

  When the door at the top of the stairs closed behind him, she grimaced. Brody was right. They needed to talk. But first, she had to finish the job they had started. Fortunately, the upstairs apartment was small. It didn’t take long to eyeball closets and drawers and make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Who knew if it would be six months or six weeks before she returned to this familiar nest? She and Miss Izzy might not get along on a daily basis.

  Because her parents had structured almost every aspect of her life growing up, uncertainty was a hard thing to accept. Not only was she pregnant, but she had also agreed to look after a woman who might live forever or might keel over tomorrow. Cate was no nurse, but she was happy to keep an eye on Brody and Duncan’s grandmother if it would give the family a feeling of security.