Expecting His Child. Leanne Banks
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only temporarily, from her mind.
She instinctively walked toward the nursery. She hadn’t bought a crib or even painted the baby’s room yet. The only piece of furniture in the room was a toy chest full of odds and ends she’d begun to collect. She knelt beside the light oak chest and touched the infant sleepers, receiving blankets, a stuffed bear, then brought out the little box that made her heart contract and expand every time.
Baby booties.
It was the silliest thing, but the tiny, tiny white booties made it all feel real and right to her. Seeing Noah tonight had confused her, and she didn’t need to feel confused. Martina knew what she had to do. She had to keep her head together and love and raise this baby. She had to resist the urge to lean, especially on Noah. He made her think. Every time he visited her, there was more to like, more to admire, more to want and, in turn, more to fear.
The thought of knowing him more made every muscle in her body tense. It wasn’t just that he was a Coltrane, although heaven knows that was enough. Martina had a feeling in her heart, in her blood, that if she fell for Noah, his being was so big and powerful that he would swallow her and she would simply disappear.
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