WARRIOR'S BABY

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  "Yes." He kissed her fingers, suckling each one. "Remember me." When our lives are no longer entwined. When you're gone and I'm missing you.

  Unable to endure the agonizing, glorious rhythm a moment longer, Colt felt himself slipping, deeper, into her, into the pressure building in his loins.

  "Melanie," he chanted, arching his back and rearing his head. "Sweet … sweet Melanie…"

  He wanted to look down at her when it happened, but he couldn't. Locked in the throes of passion, tremors claimed him. Somewhere through it all, through the blinding haze of his release, he felt Melanie shudder, heard her call his name in a voice that took his breath away.

  He collapsed in her arms and she held him, stroked his back and absorbed his sweat-slicked skin with hers. Moments later, he forced himself to lift his head. "I'm not too heavy, am I?" She felt tiny and fragile beneath his bulk.

  "No, you feel good."

  Melanie kissed his shoulder, and he realized she wanted more from him. She wanted the tender aftermath that should come with what they had just shared. Something he'd never given a woman. Not even his wife. Colt had the tendency to roll away from his partner, sleep or zip himself into his jeans and walk away.

  That's what he'd do, eventually. Walk away after she gave him a child. But for now, he'd oblige. Because deep down he wanted to give her a piece of himself. She was his friend, his precious, beautiful, female friend.

  Colt shifted his weight so he was only half covering her. A sudden rush of guilt raced through him. He'd always wanted a good girl, yet never believed he deserved one. A part of him felt as though he'd tainted her somehow. He hadn't lived a particularly moral life, and neither had his former lovers.

  He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and pondered their situation. He had taken her virginity, and in nine months, he'd take her child, too. He had nothing to offer her, nothing to give, yet there she was, locked in his embrace.

  "It shouldn't have happened like this. Not your first time."

  A frown furrowed her brow. "What do you mean, like this?"

  "You should have been with a man who's important to you. You wouldn't have waited so long if something like that didn't matter."

  She expelled a deep sigh. "Colt, I'm a grown woman."

  He gazed down at the lush curves beneath him. "Yeah, I can see that."

  "I knew what I was doing. And you are important to me. You're going to be the father of my baby." She skimmed her fingers across his jaw. "This was perfect for my first time. I wouldn't change a thing."

  He didn't like that she'd called the child hers, but he decided to let it pass, certain she hadn't meant it in a literal sense. Besides, he had asked her to nurse the child, at least for the first few weeks of its life.

  Colt smoothed his hand over her tummy. "Do you think it happened? Because in case it didn't, we should try again."

  Melanie grinned. "Right now?"

  He couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I need a little recovery time." He could barely wiggle his toes, let alone the vital parts. "You know what sounds good right now?" he asked, not giving her time to answer. "Leftovers. Sweet and sour everything."

  "Great idea." She poked his rib. "You go get it and I'll wait here."

  "Me? You're the woman."

  "And you just ravished me. I need my rest."

  "Ravished you?" He laughed again. "Darlin,' I made love to you. When I ravish you, and I promise I will, you'll know it."

  She nibbled his shoulder, then lapped it. "After a promise like that, I suppose I could serve you dinner in bed."

  The delicious stroke of her tongue had almost revived him. Almost. He leaned over. "Dinner in bed? Does that mean I get to baste you with sweet and sour sauce, then lick it off?"

  Immediately her suntanned cheeks reddened. "Colt! Don't even think about it." She bounded off the bed with the top sheet wrapped protectively around her. A moment later an oversize pajama top clothed her svelte form.

  Her modesty amused him. If he had been the one going to the kitchen, he wouldn't have thought to cover himself. Not after what they had just done. But then, this hadn't been his first time, either. He noticed the bottom sheet bore a small stain, the evidence of her lost virginity, something he had never expected to encounter from one of his lovers.

  While she was gone, Colt closed his eyes and tried not to think about how much he would miss her, miss making love to her. Once she conceived, their intimacy would end. Otherwise their friendship would seem like a love affair.

  Sharing their bodies for conception had been a risky venture in itself. But he'd suggested it for several reasons. She had come to Montana to be his surrogate. When the insemination had failed, he feared losing her and the baby she had promised. Regardless of her claim, he wasn't convinced that she would have stuck by him if future inseminations proved unsuccessful. But if they made love, he knew she would stay. Melanie, even through all her innocence, had made somewhat blatant sexual advances toward him. And hell, he wanted her so desperately he could barely see straight, or walk comfortably for that matter. The little wench had given him a permanent hard-on.

  Colt frowned. Hard-on, hell. She had penetrated his heart, his callous, distrustful heart. Well, it didn't matter, he decided. It wasn't as if he would fall in love. That foolishness wasn't something he was capable of. Besides, Melanie had a thriving career in California, shopped in Beverly Hills, sipped cappuccino in trendy coffee bars and lived in a beachfront condo. How could a cowboy compete with that even if he wanted to?

  "Are you all right? You seem sad or mad or something."

  Colt glanced up. Melanie had come into the room, balancing a tray littered with leftovers. He ignored her concern. "That looks good."

  She placed the wicker tray on the bed and sat down. "I have to admit that I am hungry. I was too nervous to eat … you know, before…"

  He grabbed an egg roll. He understood; she had been anxious about her first time. "I got too much food, though. We'll never finish it all."

  Melanie picked up a bowl filled with a variety of entrées and poked a fork into it, skewering several mushrooms and a flimsy pea pod. "Maybe your ranch hands could eat it for lunch tomorrow. There's a lot more in the fridge."

  Colt swallowed the last of the egg roll and went after the bowl Melanie had prepared for him, then replaced it in favor of drawing the sheet across his hips. He might not be modest, but dropping hot food on his lap could prove painful.

  She sat on the bed, her legs crossed Indian style, looking like a girl at a slumber party in her big, plaid pajama top. He smiled. Some slumber party. The naked man next to her was craning his neck to see if she remembered to put panties on.

  "What are you looking for? Did you drop something?"

  He looked up guiltily. "Huh? Oh … uh … I've got a crook, in my neck." He'd go on a panty raid after their midnight snack.

  "Do you want me to rub it?"

  Colt searched her face for evidence of a double entendre but found none. Lord, she was sweet. He bit his cheeks to keep from laughing. "Yeah, but not right now."

  "Oh!" She picked up a fortune cookie. "Let's see what I got." Cookie chunks fell to the bed. "Here it is—'Your endeavors will succeed.'"

  "Sounds promising." Colt snagged a cookie off the tray and broke it open. "Hey! I got the same one." He leaned toward her. "See?"

  "I guess this means our endeavors will succeed." Colt and Melanie shared a conspiratorial smile. Clearly, their endeavors involved making a baby.

  His smile remained, even between mouthfuls of food. "What's your favorite color?" he asked.

  She seemed surprised by the question. "Why?"

  Because she would be the mother of his child, yet he didn't know the simplest things about her. Colt shrugged. "Just curious."

  She propped a pillow against the headboard and leaned back, stretching her shapely, suntanned legs. "Well, that depends."

  Colt frowned. He'd just asked her the most generic question possible and she was sea
rching her food for an answer. Melanie confused him at times. "On what?"

  She picked up a rib and fingered it carefully. "On whether I'm wearing it, using it as an accent to decorate a house or choosing icing on a cake. Then there's cars, lipstick, and nail polish—"

  "Whoa. Time out." He eyed her plaid pajama top, trying to find an easy solution. When his son or daughter asked about its mother, he would have to remember all this stuff. "Start with clothes and go from there."

  "Hmm." She followed the line of his eyes and fingered the soft cotton fabric. "It really depends on what kind of clothes—"

  "Melanie."

  "Okay. Black mostly."

  An image of her silk bra and panties came to mind. "Yeah, you look good in black."

  "Thanks." She nibbled the sticky rib, licking her fingers as she ate. "That's why I wore a black dress the day we had our first meeting. It always makes me feel a little more self-assured. Sophisticated."

  He couldn't resist a chuckle. The woman was sucking sweet-and-sour sauce off her fingers and wearing a pajama top that looked even too big for him. Hardly the picture of sophistication. With that mussed auburn hair and those bright blue eyes, she reminded him of an orphaned kitten cleaning her paws. "What about decorating a house?"

  "Well, that depends on where it's located, the style of architecture…" She met his amused gaze and bumped his shoulder with hers. "What's so funny?"

  "Nothing. You're just cute, that's all."

  "Oh."

  She smiled a bit bashfully and once again he found himself intrigued by the innocence of her sensuality. "Go on, Melanie."

  "Okay. In ranch-style houses … brown leather and cow prints accented with turquoise. For the beach … white, mauve and aqua. Candy-apple red is my favorite color in sport cars, pale pink in nail polish and natural, sandy tones in lipstick. On a birthday cake I would choose chocolate icing with yellow flowers." She paused for a small breath. "And as far as real flowers go … mixed bouquets."

  Colt grinned. If he believed that falling in love was possible, then this woman would be the one he would tumble head over heels for. Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to lose his heart. Not even to Melanie.

  "Blue is my favorite color," he offered. "Just plain old blue."

  The simplicity of his admission apparently didn't satisfy the artist in her. "No color is plain, Colt. What do you like that's blue?"

  He scratched his head, but as he thought about it, he realized she was right. The list that spilled from his mouth sounded almost poetic, even in his cowboy drawl. "A pair of saddle-broke Wranglers, blue ribbons, a slice of fresh blueberry pie," he said with a slight chuckle. "The Montana sky at noon, the Pacific Ocean at midnight…" He turned toward her, the humor in his voice gone. "And your eyes. Your incredible blue eyes."

  When Melanie blinked and moistened her lips, Colt placed his bowl on the nightstand and watched her follow suit. As he leaned forward and searched her mouth for everything sweet, pure and seductive she had to give, she caressed his naked chest then slid her hand to his thigh.

  The kiss ended with Colt releasing the buttons on the green plaid and straddling her hips. No longer could he tell himself that Melanie Richards hadn't become attached to him, because once he discovered the plain white-cotton panties and the springy curls beneath, Colt saw the warmth in her eyes.

  I'm her first lover, he chanted mentally as he tumbled into Heaven in one glorious, earth-shattering motion. And I always will be.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  Noise on every level filled the Carnegie home. The sound of adolescents washing dishes and younger children squealing with laughter could be heard above Colt's and Fred's impersonations of monsters.

  The quiet conversation Melanie and Gloria had went virtually unnoticed. The women relaxed on the sagging sofa with steaming cups of coffee after preparing spaghetti, garlic bread and salad for twelve hungry people.

  "He looks happy," Gloria said, motioning to Colt, who chased the twin girls around the family room with heavy footsteps and extended arms.

  Melanie looked up. Colt had to be the sexiest, most charming Frankenstein monster in existence, and Fred was about the funniest and best-natured Igor a kid could hope for. "Colt adores your children. Every time he sees them, he wants a houseful of his own."

  "And just how is the baby-making business going?"

  Melanie sent her friend a sultry smile. "We haven't missed a day in two weeks."

  "Ah-hah. That's why the man looks so content."

  "What about me? Do I look happy?"

  "You, my dear," the blonde said, leaning close, "are positively glowing. He must be some stud."

  "Gloria!"

  "Don't you Gloria me. You two couldn't keep your eyes off each other during dinner. It was all Fred and I could do to keep our faces straight. Every time Fred asked Colt a question about the ranch, Colt gazed over at you to see if you were looking his way. Which, of course, you were."

  Melanie grinned. "Guilty as charged," she said. "All I can think about is kissing him, then tearing his clothes off."

  "I'd say the feeling is mutual, only—" Gloria shook her head in maternal exasperation and nodded to her youngest son, who had pulled Colt's shirt free from his jeans. "Joey's taking care of the clothes part for you."

  Calling a halt to the game, Gloria served Neapolitan ice cream in the dining room. Like the rest of the Carnegie furnishings, the oak table showed signs of wear. But as Melanie gazed across the scarred wood, she thought about all the happy Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners that had graced the old tabletop, feeling proud to be considered an aunt to her friend's lively brood.

  Joey shoved a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into his mouth. He had traded his scoop of strawberry for the mound of chocolate in his oldest brother's bowl. "We have puppies," he said to Colt. "Real cute ones."

  "I know, your dad told me. Queensland Heelers."

  "Reds and blues," the boy confirmed with a solemn nod. "They're in the basement so they don't poop all over the house."

  "I'm sure Colt could have figured that out for himself." Gloria shook her head when the rest of her children laughed at their brother's remark.

  Little Joey's candor reminded Melanie of Colt. They both had the tendency to say whatever came to mind. She imagined Colt had shocked his elderly grandparents a time a two.

  "Do you want to take a puppy home for Tallee?" Joey asked Colt.

  The boy's father adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses. "Tallee?"

  Colt spoke up. "I think he means Shorty, my foreman. Joey hung out with him at the fair."

  The boy whipped his ice cream into a soft pudding when he spotted one of his sisters stirring hers. "He's too tall to be called Shorty."

  "Six-four," Colt told Fred. "The old guy's as lean as a fence post and as grumpy as they come, but Joey here handled him just fine."

  "Maybe you ought to get the old guy a puppy," Fred offered, apparently anxious to unload the eight-week-old litter. "Queenslands are an excellent working breed."

  "Maybe." Colt turned to Melanie. "What do you think, darlin'?"

  The affectionate darlin' hadn't gone unnoticed by the Carnegies, both parents exchanged a knowing look Melanie hoped Colt hadn't caught. "I think a puppy is a great idea. Shorty needs a new friend."

  Joey puffed up his chest, then thumped it with his fist. "Make sure he knows it's from me."

  Fred grinned. "Take one with you tonight."

  "Maybe even two or three," Gloria chimed in with a smile. When the older children cleared the table and went into the living room to play a board game, Joey remained with the adults, a serious expression on his freckled face.

  "Mom, how come some mommies give their babies away?"

  The boy's question jolted every one at the table, but Melanie understood where it had stemmed from. Joey had recently discovered that Trevor, his best friend from preschool, was adopted.

  Gloria answered her son patiently, concern wrinklin
g her forehead. "So other families can have children."

  Joey chewed his bottom lip. "Trevor's mom was sad 'cause she couldn't have babies."

  "I'm sure she was." Gloria touched her son's cheek. "But the lady who gave her Trevor made her happy."

  "Yeah," the child agreed. "All babies need mommies."

  Melanie lifted her eyes to Colt. Clearly uncomfortable, he sat stiffly, shoulders rigid, his Adam's apple bobbing. She couldn't help but wonder if he had suddenly realized the importance of a family unit to a small child. Father, mother and siblings.

  "How about showing Colt and Melanie the puppies now," Gloria said to her youngest child.

  Joey popped out of his seat and grabbed Colt's hand. "Come on."

  Colt took the child's hand and reached out to Melanie. The three headed into the kitchen, then through the pantry and down the basement stairs. A grayish-colored puppy barked happily and wagged its bobbed tail as soon as Joey jumped down the last two steps. The boy scooped up the squirming ball of fur and thrust it toward Melanie. "This one's a boy. I call him Sparky."

  Sparky sniffed Melanie's hand as she reached forward to scratch his ears. Like the rest of him, the puppy's ears defined unusual breeding: one pointed stiffly toward the ceiling while the other bent comically, giving the dog a lopsided, quizzical look. Melanie noticed Sparky's eyes were as unmatched as his ears, one a rich, warm brown, the other a clear, icy blue.

  "He's adorable," she squealed, cupping the furry little face.

  Joey handed Sparky over to her. "We got more. See?"

  Coming toward them in a variety of speeds and various shades of bluish-grays and orangish-reds were Sparky's siblings. A larger, sleepy-eyed red, which Melanie recognized as the proud but tired mom, padded after the rambunctious litter. The absent father, a muscular blue, patrolled the Carnegies' backyard.

  Colt knelt on the basement floor and examined each dog. He held them at eye level, then allowed them to kiss his face with big puppy licks. "They're all fine dogs," he told Joey, "but I think Shorty would like a male. They usually grow up to be bigger."