Flames of Attraction: Quade's BabiesTall, Dark...Westmoreland! Page 4

  “Did you have my baby?”

  Chapter 3

  Quade felt his insides tighten, not knowing what Cheyenne’s response would be, not even sure from the way she was looking at him if she would even give him one. The trouble was, he didn’t plan on leaving until she did.

  Until now he’d never given any thought to being a father. In fact, a wife and kids weren’t on his list of goals he’d wanted to achieve in life. There seemed to be enough of his brothers and cousins doing a pretty damn good job of being productive and replenishing the earth with more Westmorelands, for him to be needed in that role. However, if he was the father of her child, then he would take full responsibility, and the sooner she knew it the better.

  “Westmorelands take full responsibility for their actions,” he said, as if that explained everything. He tried to downplay the stirrings in his groin that had started the moment she had opened the door. And when she lifted perfectly arched eyebrows the stirrings increased.

  “Westmoreland? Is that your last name?” she asked.

  He studied her to see what about her was different from that night. She looked a lot younger than twenty-eight and the color of her eyes seemed darker than he recalled. But her lips, full and enticing, were just as luscious as he remembered. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that stretched across firm breasts. Her waistline looked small, not indicative of a woman who’d given birth to a child, but her hips had curves that hadn’t been there before. He, of all people, should know. He had touched and tasted every inch of her body.

  “Quade?”

  When she said his name, he realized he hadn’t responded to her question. “Yes. Westmoreland is my last name.” It also made him realize just how little they knew about each other. The only thing they did know was how much they could satisfy each other in bed. “And I take it that Steele is yours,” he decided to add.

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, Steele is mine.”

  Now that they’d gotten that out of the way, she still hadn’t answered his question—the most important one and the reason he was there. “Are you going to answer my question about the baby?”

  * * *

  Cheyenne wasn’t sure if she should answer him. Although there was no doubt in her mind that he had a right to know, she just wasn’t certain he would be ready for her response. He was inquiring about a baby. How would he handle the fact that there were three?

  She let out a sigh as she studied the handsome face staring back at her. It was a face that still had the power to make her pulse race, her heart beat faster and cause goose bumps to form on her arms. And worse still, it had the power to make her vividly recall every single detail of the night they had spent together.

  Fully aware of the lengthening silence between them and the fact she could tell by the tightening of his jaw that he was getting annoyed she hadn’t responded to his question, she said, “I think you should come in so we can talk about it.”

  “Do you?” he asked in what she picked up as a rather cool voice.

  “Yes.” She took a step back and opened the door a little wider in invitation.

  He continued to stare at her for a moment before crossing the threshold into her home and closing the door behind him. It wasn’t until he was inside that she became fully aware of just how tall he was. Her cousins and two brothers-in-law were tall men and Quade would fit right in with them. His presence seemed to dominate the room and there was an air about him that said he was confident in his masculinity. Confident, even arrogant.

  “You’re stalling.”

  He had come to stand directly in front of her and she was all too aware of his presence. “Am I?” she asked, fighting the tightness in her throat.

  “Yes, and I’d like to know why? I would think my question was simple enough,” he said in a tone that let her know he was getting even more agitated. “You were pregnant. The baby you gave birth to was fathered by me or by someone else. All I want to know is, was it me?”

  Anger simmered in her belly at the thought that he could assume she had slept with someone else, but then she had to be reasonable—he didn’t know her. The only thing he knew was how quickly he had been able to get her in his bed and without very much effort. He had been a total stranger yet she had gone to his hotel room, stripped naked and had made love to him almost nonstop all night long.

  She inhaled deeply and then asked. “And if I were to say that it wasn’t you?”

  He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then I apologize for seeking you out and wasting your time.”

  “And if it was you?” she asked softly. “Not saying that it was,” she hurriedly added.

  She saw a hardening in his gaze. “To be quite honest, you really aren’t saying anything,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why can’t you just give me a definitive answer?”

  Cheyenne placed her arms over her chest, as well. “It’s a bit complicated.”

  He lifted a brow and gave her a probing look. “Complicated in what way? Either I’m the one who got you pregnant, or I’m not. Now which one is it?”

  His gaze burned into hers with a warning that said he was impatient, and tired of her not giving him a straight answer. She swallowed the lump in her throat and then said. “Yes, you’re the one. But...”

  “But what?”

  From his expression it was hard to tell if he was disappointed or elated about being a father. Probably the former, since she figured most men preferred not becoming a daddy from a one-night stand. “There wasn’t a baby,” she said.

  She actually saw the glint of concern that flashed in his eyes. “Did you lose it?” he asked softly.

  “No,” she said quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

  He stared at her. His expression then became rather chilling. “Then how about telling me just what the hell you did mean.”

  She glared at him. He was getting angry and so was she. She placed her hand on her hip and took a step closer to him with fire in her eyes. “What I mean, Quade, is that I didn’t give birth to one baby. I gave birth to three.”

  * * *

  Quade’s mouth dropped open in shock. He had seen the size of her stomach and, although his cousin Cole had joked at the possibility she was carrying more than one baby, Quade had dismissed it, assuming the baby was just a big one. She’d given birth to triplets—Westmoreland triplets. The first in his generation of Westmorelands. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Damn.

  “Is there something that you find rather amusing?” Cheyenne asked in a somewhat annoyed tone. He glanced over at her. She looked as if she was ready to throw something at him. He could just imagine how hard it would be to give birth to one baby. But three...

  He shrugged broad shoulders. “No,” he said, quickly wiping the smile off his face. “Are they okay?”

  The anger eased from her eyes somewhat with his question of concern. “Yes. They were born eight weeks premature and had to remain in the hospital for almost three weeks, but now they’re fine.”

  “I want to see them,” he said, wanting to make sure for himself.

  From the look that suddenly appeared in her eyes he could tell his brisk and authoritarian tone hadn’t helped matters, but at the moment he didn’t care. If he had fathered babies, he wanted to see them. She said they were okay, but he wanted to see them for himself.

  “No.”

  Now it was his eyes that were narrowing. “No?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  He stared at her. She was trying to be difficult. The look on her face was proof of that. He was used to his orders being followed. Okay, he would concede that he wasn’t still with the PSF and she wasn’t one of his men. But still, had he requested something of her that was so complex?

  “Is there a reason why I can’t see them?”

  “Yes. They’re asleep.”

  He studied her. “Is there a reason you can’t wake them up?”

  For a single minute she looked like she
wanted to hit him over the head with something again. “Yes. It will interfere with their sleep pattern. If I disturb their sleep now, they will stay up later tonight and I would like to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Fine, I won’t wake them, but I want to see them.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Tension sizzled between them and finally through gritted teeth Cheyenne said, “Fine, but you better not wake them.”

  “I said I wouldn’t,” Quade said in a furious growl. People used anger to mask a lot of things, even hard-cast lust like he was feeling now. Just the thought that she had given birth to his babies made him want to reach out and pull her into his arms and kiss the pout right off her lips. That would only be the start....

  “You better not wake them. Now follow me.”

  She turned and he couldn’t help but smile as he followed her down a long hallway. Damn, she was feisty. She hadn’t been that night in his hotel room. Then she’d been passionate, seductive and very accommodating. He shook his head in disbelief. He was a father. Not that he planned on being one, but now that was beside the point. So what was the point?

  He dismissed the question and glanced ahead at Cheyenne, more specifically her shapely backside. He was partial to that part of a woman’s anatomy and even with her clothes on he could vividly recall her naked behind. He had liked it, especially the way it was curved and how it had felt beneath the heat of his body. It had been a lovemaking position he had introduced her to, and a position she had enjoyed just as much as he had.

  She stopped at a door and whirled around and glared at him, making him wonder if she’d read his thoughts. “You didn’t ask, but I’ll tell you anyway,” she all but snapped. “I have a son and two daughters.”

  The sex of the babies didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was that they were his. “We have a son and two daughters,” he corrected her by saying.

  She stared at him—actually glared at him—some more. “You don’t seem surprised that I gave birth to triplets.”

  He shrugged. “Not really,” he said softly, trying to follow her lead and keep his voice down. “Multiple births run in my family. I’m a twin.”

  The look of surprise on her face was priceless and reminded him of just how little they knew of each other. “You didn’t mention it that night,” she all but accused.

  “I had no reason to do so. If I recall, we didn’t do much talking.”

  At that instant, by the look in her eyes, he knew his words were forcing her to remember. Then just as quickly he watched as she schooled her features to reflect casual indifference. “I don’t remember,” she said with deliberate coolness.

  He smiled. She was lying and they both knew it. However, if she wanted to pretend she didn’t remember anything about that night then he would let her.

  “And although you haven’t even asked me what their names are, I’m going to tell you anyway,” she said in a tone that implied she was still annoyed with him. “My daughters are Venus and Athena, and my son’s name is Troy.”

  He nodded. They were nice names.

  “There’s something that you should know about Troy.”

  He lifted a brow. Concerned. “What?”

  “He sometimes develops a bad disposition, especially when he’s hungry. He always wants to be fed before his sisters, and he always wants to be the center of attention.”

  “Typical Westmoreland.”

  “They were born Steeles.”

  He let out an aggravated sigh. “Only because I wasn’t here to make things otherwise. I’m here now.”

  He could feel the tension once again sizzling through them. “Meaning?” she asked.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Meaning, since you have confirmed the babies are mine, that will entail a number of things.”

  “Like what?”

  He saw a flicker of defiance in her eyes and knew whatever “a number of things” were she would put up a fight. “I’d rather not discuss them now. I just want to see the babies.”

  He had a feeling she was a woman who was used to calling the shots and didn’t appreciate his entrance into her life. Well, that was too bad. Babies had been the product of their one night of sexual lust, and although becoming a father had been the last thing on his mind, that very thing had happened. And just like he’d told her and would again tell her just in case she hadn’t gotten it, a Westmoreland took responsibility for his actions, no matter what they were. That code of ethics had been drilled into every Westmoreland from day one and it would be his responsibility to teach that same code to his son and daughters.

  A son and two daughters.

  He inhaled deeply at the thought. What on earth was he supposed to do with babies? He liked kids well enough, but had never intended to have any of his own. He had enough nieces and nephews—either already born or presently on the way, and then all his cousins had begun having children, which meant he was constantly having a slew of young cousins being born. But now, of all things, it looked like he had three of his own to add to the number. He could just imagine his family’s reaction when he told them. His mother would go crazy. Sarah Westmoreland was determined to get all the grandkids that she could out of her six sons.

  “Remember, you aren’t to wake them.”

  Her words intruded in on his thoughts. “I don’t need to be reminded, Cheyenne.”

  She rolled her eyes and opened the bedroom door. He followed her in and glanced around. There were several painted animals on the walls and he immediately recognized the theme. Noah’s ark. Must be a popular one since his cousin Storm’s twin two-year-old daughters had their room decorated in the same way. He sniffed the air. The room even smelled like a nursery. The comforting scent of baby powder, oil and lotion lingered in the air.

  Quade’s attention then came to rest to the three white baby cribs and he suddenly swallowed when he fully realized what this moment meant. Something akin to panic surged through his veins. He was used to just looking after himself, and for the past few years, he had done a pretty damn good job doing so considering all the sticky situations he’d been in while working for the PSF. Now he would be responsible for others, namely three babies that were his. In a way, that was scarier than protecting the president. He had a feeling being a father was going to be one hell of a challenge.

  He glanced over at Cheyenne. She was going to be a challenge, too. There was a lot about her that he didn’t know. But the one thing he did know was that she had chosen to bring his babies into the world instead of not doing so. Women these days had other options and considering everything, he was glad of the decision she had made. He let out a long sigh and slowly followed Cheyenne over to the first crib.

  “This is Venus,” Cheyenne said as a way of introduction. “She’s the youngest and weighed the least when she was born. Because she weighed less than three pounds at birth, she had to stay in the hospital’s special care baby unit two weeks longer than the others.”

  Quade glanced down at the baby covered by a pink blanket and his breath caught in his chest. He held his hands tight by his sides, tempted to reach out and touch her, just to see if she was real. Her little head was covered by black hair and she seemed to be sleeping so peacefully. She was such a fragile little thing. He silently vowed that one day under his love and protection she would grow to have incredible strength and would never have to worry about anything.

  “And this is Athena,” Cheyenne whispered.

  He glanced up to see that Cheyenne had moved to the second crib. He took a couple of steps to stand beside her to glance down at the baby sleeping in the crib. She was also covered in a pink blanket and like her sister, she had a head full of dark hair. She was bigger than her sister, but still she looked rather small. “How much did she weigh?” he asked in a very low voice, meeting Cheyenne’s eyes.

  “Barely three. She was born second.”

  He glanced back down and knew, like the other baby, this one would never have to worry abou
t anything. He would make sure of it. Following Cheyenne, he moved to the third crib and blinked. His son definitely wasn’t a small baby. He could probably make two of his sisters.

  “Like I said. He likes to eat,” Cheyenne said, and he could hear the amusement in her voice. “He was born weighing almost four pounds and now he’s almost eight pounds.”

  “What do you feed them?”

  “Breast milk.”

  Quade’s gaze immediately went to her chest and saw the outline of her breasts pressed against the blouse she was wearing. His heart thudded at the memory that was so fresh in his mind of when his mouth had captured a hardened nipple between his lips and how he had indulged in a little breast time himself by sucking on her breasts the same way a baby would. He also remembered just how much she had enjoyed the little byplay.

  “I take it that he was born first,” he decided to say, placing his gaze back on his son and away from Cheyenne.

  “Yes, and when he gets older, I’m going to depend on him to look after his sisters. Look after them, but not boss them around,” Cheyenne said softly.

  He lifted a brow and smiled. “Do I hear a little resentment in your voice? Did your brothers boss you around?”

  She smiled back and moved away from the crib toward the door. When they were outside in the hall she said. “I don’t have any brothers. My parents had three girls and I’m the youngest and yes, my sisters tried bossing me around. And then there are my male cousins. Four of them. And they were bossy, as well, although they were convinced being that way was for my own good.”

  For some reason the thought pleased him that she had people looking out for her. He bet she had been a beautiful child. She’d certainly grown up to be a beautiful woman. He could imagine all the men who’d come calling.

  “So what do you think?”

  He glanced over at her as they walked back toward the living room. “About what?”

  She stopped walking. “Not about what, but about who,” she said, more than a little annoyed. “What do you think of Venus, Athena and Troy?”