Flames of Attraction: Quade's BabiesTall, Dark...Westmoreland! Read online

  Cheyenne didn’t like the sound of that. She was an international model who traveled all over the country. What if he had a problem with her chosen career? And then there was that part of her job that no one, not even her family knew about. Her agent wasn’t even privy to information about it, although on occasion Cheyenne used her professional model status to get in and out of places where she needed to be.

  “And if I don’t see things your way and agree to your proposition?” she asked, needing to know her options.

  “Then I will seek legal counsel to see what rights I have as a father. If the five of us being together as a family is not an option, I need to make sure I have a legal right to be a part of my children’s life. I’d rather not involve an attorney, of course, and prefer that for the sake of the babies we can reach some kind of a reasonable and acceptable resolution. But if not, I won’t hesitate to take you to court for shared custody rights.”

  Shared custody rights. Her heart jumped at the very thought of her babies being separated from her at any time, especially while they were so young. She just couldn’t imagine it happening. But then all she had to do was to stare into Quade’s face to know that he couldn’t imagine it being any other way...other than the option he had given her. The one where the five of them would live together, married, as a family.

  She needed to think. She needed to be alone. Basically, what she really needed was him gone. Around him she couldn’t completely think straight. “I need time to think about this, Quade.”

  “That’s fine,” he said. “I’m not proposing that we marry right away. All I’m asking for is time for you to get to know me. However, I want my children to have my name as soon as it can be arranged. I want them entitled to everything I own if something were to ever happen to me.”

  Cheyenne lifted a brow. If something were to ever happen to him. She didn’t even know what he did for a living for crying out loud. “What do you do for a living?” she asked.

  “I recently retired from working for the Federal Government.”

  “In what capacity?”

  “Secret Service.”

  Her frown deepened. She wondered if the reason he had been in Egypt that night had anything to do with his job. Most men who worked in the Secret Service were in place to protect the president, but that had not been the case with Quade. The president had been expected to arrive in Egypt, but hadn’t yet done so. That made her wonder...

  It hadn’t been a coincidence for her to be in Egypt that night. The first lady was to arrive with the president and Cheyenne needed to be in place, behind the scenes. She shook her head, finding the possibility that the two of them could be associated with the same agency under the umbrella of the Secret Service mind-boggling. “So, you’re one of those men who stand guard over the president wherever he goes, possibly taking a bullet if things got that far.”

  “Yes, something like that,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers.

  She nodded. He was being evasive just like she had been a number of times when her sisters had questioned the reason why they couldn’t always reach her whenever she traveled abroad.

  “It’s late and like I said, I need to think things through.”

  He nodded. “When are the babies’ next feeding times? I’d like to visit when they are awake.”

  She looked off toward the babies’ nursery. “They’ll sleep for another couple of hours or so, but I prefer you wait until tomorrow to see them.”

  “Any reason you’re putting me off?”

  Cheyenne looked back at him. “Like I said, I need to think about things. And I think you need to think about things, as well.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing to think about. I want to do the right thing.”

  She regarded him steadily. “And you think wanting to marry a woman you slept with once and who got pregnant by you is the right thing when there is no love involved?”

  From his expression she could tell her question was running through his mind. “First of all,” he said quietly, “I slept with you more than once in that single night. And the answer is yes. Marrying you and giving you and my kids my name is the right thing to do.”

  “Even when there is no love?”

  Quade nodded. “Yes, even when there is no love.”

  At least he was being honest with her, she thought. There would be no love in their marriage. He hadn’t come seeking her out because he’d fallen in love with her. He had just admitted that love had nothing to do with it. He was being driven by what he perceived as doing the right thing. “Would you like to come to breakfast?” she decided to ask him.

  “Breakfast?”

  “Yes, breakfast. The babies will definitely be wide-awake then,” she said, deciding to give him at least that time with them.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Then breakfast it is.”

  She hadn’t for one minute doubted that he would take her up on her offer for breakfast. She could tell he was eager to see the babies he had produced. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  She had gotten halfway there when she noticed he wasn’t following her. She glanced back at him. “Is something wrong?”

  “I thought I heard something.”

  She perked up her ears while glancing at the baby monitor that was sitting on the table. The sound of a whimper followed seconds later by a loud wail.

  “Troy is awake,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

  He raised a brow. “How do you know it’s him and not the girls?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve gotten used to their various cries. Besides, he’s louder than the girls.” She chuckled. “Probably a male thing. If I don’t go in and get him, he’ll wake up his sisters if he hasn’t done so already.”

  Without saying anything else, she quickly moved toward the nursery. And Quade was right on her heels.

  Chapter 5

  Once they entered the nursery, Quade hung back and watched as Cheyenne went directly to the bed where their son was lying. He swallowed as a scary sensation ripped through him. Hard-core-to-the-bone Quade Westmoreland, who could be as tough as nails, suddenly felt as soft as a marshmallow and totally out of his element. He stiffened, not liking the feeling one damn bit.

  But that feeling of resentment quickly eased away the moment Cheyenne lifted his son into her arms. Emotions he had never dealt with before rammed through him, nearly taking his breath away and making him weak in the knees all at the same time. Now he knew exactly how his cousin Thorn had felt when his child had been born. Thorn had always been the surly one in the family, but Quade had seen another side of Thorn when he had held his son in his arms.

  Quade inhaled deeply, quickly deciding that if Thorn, of all people, could handle fatherhood, then so could he. There were three newborn Westmorelands who were depending on him and he would not let them down. Whether Cheyenne liked it or not, he intended to be an essential part of his kids’ lives. He decided right then and there that he would be an essential part of Cheyenne’s life, as well.

  As if she read his mind, Cheyenne turned and he saw her frown. The frown slowly eased away from her brow, but not before she had scanned the entire length of him with a heated gaze. His body automatically responded and the silence in the room seemed to thicken, lengthen. She may want to deny it, but it was there—that same sexual chemistry, the physical attraction that had held them within its clutches almost a year ago. As far as he was concerned, it was as potent as ever.

  Deciding it was time to meet his son, Quade slowly began walking toward her, crossing the room with purposeful steps.

  * * *

  Lifting Troy up toward her shoulders, Cheyenne tried concentrating on the baby and not on Quade. But she couldn’t stop her gaze from devouring him with every step he took toward her.

  The man was fine. Every inch—from his muscled shoulders, to his firm stomach, to his tapered hips. And it didn’t take much to make her recall having his oh-so-fine male body on her and inside of her. />
  And then there were the kisses. Case in point, like the one they had shared earlier. The one she had started, but that she had eventually become victim to. The man had a way with his tongue and could use it to nip, stroke and tease her into submission. It was an instrument of pleasure that delivered every time it entered her mouth.

  She released a trembling breath thinking, if she didn’t develop a backbone, she could become putty in his arms. She was almost already there. She hadn’t been firm enough when he had suggested marriage and had even agreed to think about it. What kind of nonsense was that?

  When he came to a stop in front of her, he reached out his hands. “May I?” he asked, surprising her by his request. When it came to babies, most men preferred taking the hands-off approach.

  “Sure,” she said, and slowly, gently eased her son off her shoulders and into his father’s outstretched hands. She saw Quade’s hands tremble slightly before holding their child in a firm yet gentle grasp. It was at that moment that she saw things clearly. Although he was putting up a brave front she could tell that he was really at a loss as to what to do now that he had the baby in his arms.

  Quade nervously glanced up at her. “He’s tiny.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, and just think he’s the biggest of the three. Just wait until you get a chance to hold his sisters.”

  She could actually see the blood almost drain from his face and somehow managed to keep from laughing out loud. But not before he met her gaze and saw the amusement lighting her eyes.

  “Enjoying yourself at my expense, aren’t you?” he said, before looking down into his son’s face.

  Her smile widened. “You did ask to hold him.” And it was then she noticed that Quade seemed to be frozen in place as he stared down at Troy. Following his gaze she saw why. For some reason, Troy was staring back at Quade. Holding his father’s gaze with an intensity that seemed strange even to her.

  “Does he stare at everybody like this?” he asked her.

  Cheyenne glanced back at Quade. “No,” she said honestly. “And it’s not because you’re the first man he’s seen. My four cousins visit often.” She shrugged. “I guess there’s something about you that fascinates him.”

  “You think so?”

  “Probably.” Cheyenne decided not to add that something about him had definitely fascinated her when she’d first set eyes on him. “I need to check to make sure he’s dry,” she heard herself say. “Not unless you want to take a stab at it.”

  “No, that’s okay. You have more experience with that sort of thing,” Quade said, and then quickly, yet gently shifted the baby from his arms back to hers.

  He moved aside when she headed toward the baby’s changing table and watched as she went about changing Troy’s diaper. She glanced over at Quade. “Just so you know, when it comes to changing a baby boy, you have to use defensive diapering.”

  He lifted a brow. “Defensive diapering?”

  “Yes, or you may get caught. Changing the diaper of a little boy can be like getting shot in the face with a loaded water gun.”

  When Quade caught on to what she was saying she heard him laugh. The sound was rich, as well as sensual, and did something to her insides. “Okay, laugh if you want, but don’t ever say I didn’t give you fair warning.”

  “Okay, I won’t,” he said between chuckles. “When is your nanny returning?”

  She looked over at him. “Nanny?” At his nod she smiled and said. “I don’t have a nanny, Quade.”

  He looked taken aback. “You’ve been handling the babies by yourself?”

  “Not completely. My mom has helped a lot, as well as other family members. But I told them that starting today I wanted to handle things on my own.”

  “But there are three babies,” he said as if the very thought of doing such a thing was ridiculous.

  She rolled her eyes. He sounded like her cousins and sisters. “Trust me, I know how many there are. Just like I know I can manage things.”

  “I see.” A few minutes passed and then he asked. “Is that why you don’t want me to take responsibility? Because you’re trying to prove a point?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “No. The reason I don’t want you to take responsibility is because for some reason you think taking responsibility means getting married. Shotgun weddings played out years ago. Women get pregnant all the time without getting forced into marriage.”

  “Yes, but none of those women got pregnant from a Westmoreland.”

  She picked up the baby and placed him back into her arms, hoisting him to her shoulder and began gently massaging his back. “Are you saying you’re the first guy in your family who had a child born out of wedlock?”

  “No.”

  “And all those others ended in marriage?” she asked incredulously.

  A smile softened his lips. “Eventually, yes. Westmorelands can be a very persuasive group.”

  She clamped down on her teeth to keep from saying that they sounded like a very arrogant group to her. Instead she crossed the room back to him and said, “Troy’s all done. Here, hold him for a second while I check on the girls.”

  Again he seemed at a loss as to what he was supposed to do when she placed the baby in his arms. “The girls are awake?” he asked, glancing over at the other two cribs.

  “Yes, they’ve been awake. I told you earlier chances were Troy had awaken them.”

  “But they haven’t said anything,” Quade said as if amazed.

  “Usually they don’t, unless they’re hungry or wet. They are good babies. Only Troy tries to be difficult. But then, he’s a typical male.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later Quade sat in a chair with a baby resting in each of his arms—his daughters—while Troy was being breast-fed by his mother. Quade tried concentrating on the babies instead of what was going on across the room, but he found it difficult to do so.

  Cheyenne had referred to his son as a typical male and, true to form, once presented with a breast Troy had latched on to it with the same greediness that his father had months ago.

  Quade shifted in his chair, actually envying his son and thinking his daughters would be next. He smiled, wondering if there was a way he could sign up for some breast time.

  Trying to get such thoughts out of his mind, he glanced down at his daughters and studied their features. Beautiful, the both of them. Less than two months old and they looked like their mother. Pretty, smooth brown skin and gorgeous dark eyes were staring at him, but not with the same intensity his son had earlier. The girls both had coal-black, almost straight hair. Not for the first time, Quade wondered if perhaps Cheyenne was of mixed heritage.

  He looked across the room. “You’re mixed with what?” he asked, getting her attention. She had been staring down at their son, who was cradled to her bosom.

  She looked up. “Cheyenne Indian. My mother is full-blooded Cheyenne. She and my father met at college. Of their three daughters, I’m the one who inherited her features, which is why she named me Cheyenne when I was born.”

  “And how many years ago was that?” he asked, holding her gaze. She had told him when they first met that she was twenty-eight, but today she looked a lot younger than that.

  She smiled. “How old do you think I am?”

  His gaze moved across her features and then said, “Younger. I thought so that night but wasn’t sure, but now I’m almost positive you aren’t twenty-eight.”

  She glanced down at her son before looking back at him and responded. “I’m twenty-four, but when we met I was twenty-three.”

  His gaze sharpened. “Why did you lie about your age?”

  He watched as she chewed her bottom lip for a second before saying, “I figured had I told you the truth, you would have left me alone and I had wanted you too much that night to allow that to happen.”

  He blinked, surprised that her response was so honest. Knowing it was probably best not to make a comment, he tried to ignore the intense stirrings in
his body that were the result of her words. Even now he was still amazed as to how they had met and the intensity of their attraction to each other.

  “Tell me about your sisters and cousins,” he said, deciding they needed a change of subject. From the smile that touched her lips, he could tell evidently she was close to her family just like he was close to his.

  “My oldest sister is Vanessa. She’s twenty-eight and Taylor’s next at twenty-six. Vanessa works in PR for our family business and Taylor is a financial advisor. The best there is.”

  He latched on to something she’d said. “Your family owns some sort of business?”

  “Yes, it’s a huge manufacturing company that was started by my father and his brother years ago. The Steele Corporation. Ever heard of it?”

  He let out a low whistle. “Who hasn’t? They have been in the news a lot as one of the few companies who don’t outsource.”

  “Yes, and we’re proud of that fact. Although Taylor and I don’t work for the company, we’re members of the board. After my father died, my uncle, along with his four sons, began running the company. Now my uncle has retired and Chance, Sebastian, Morgan and Donovan are doing a good job of handling things.”

  She paused a second as if thinking of her family. Then she began talking again. “Chance at thirty-nine is the oldest and is CEO. Sebastian is thirty-seven and is considered the troubleshooter and problem solver in the company. Then there is Morgan, who at thirty-five heads up the research and development department. And last is Donovan, who at thirty-three is in charge of the product development division. Chance, Sebastian and Morgan are married. Donovan is single and according to him, has no intention of marrying. He likes being a ladies’ man.”

  Quade nodded. Donovan sounded a lot like his brother Reggie. “What about your sisters? Are they married?”

  “Yes, and Taylor is expecting. She’s due to have her baby the first of the year and we’re very excited about it.” Cheyenne paused for a minute, then smiled and said, “Now tell me about these Westmorelands.”