Warrior's Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather

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СКАЧАТЬ hair the color of autumn leaves, each strand unique in its vibrance. And her body? Enticing curves a man could ride, slow and sensual, like a smooth hypnotic current

      He jerked forward when the doorbell sounded, locking the recliner in place. It was 9:40. She was early.

      He pulled open the door. Pushed away his lust. Business and pleasure didn’t mix where women were concerned.

      “Hi.” She smiled. She looked younger than the day before. Her blue jeans were faded, fraying at the knees, her denim blouse tied at the waist. A green ribbon secured her ponytail, but wispy tendrils had worked loose, gently framing a heart-shaped face. She smelled like citrus-scented soap, clean and fresh.

      Colt glanced down and let out a low whistle. Her Western boots were ostrich. The lady had class. Money.

      He stepped away from the door. “Come in.”

      She was still smiling. “Boots are my weakness.”

      Women like you are mine, he wanted to say. “Yeah, I can see that.”

      She gazed around the room. “Impressive place.”

      He followed the line of her eyes and assessed his surroundings with renewed interest. Constructed of native timber and pegged-beam ceilings, the six-bedroom homestead used to serve as the main lodge He’d considered renting it out and moving into one of the log cabins out back, but couldn’t bring himself to abandon his daughter’s room. Her pink canopy bed and favorite stuffed animals remained there, waiting for a child who would never return.

      “Big place for one guy, huh?” he asked.

      “Soon there will be two of you.”

      He smiled at the thought. His home had been empty far too long. “The patter of little feet.”

      “Little boots,” she amended.

      He winked at her, something he hadn’t done to a woman in a long time. Melanie reminded him of his youth for some reason, and although she didn’t look familiar, she felt familiar. Something he didn’t quite understand. “Do you want a cup of coffee or iced tea or something?”

      “Tea sounds nice.”

      She followed him into the kitchen then sat down at the oak table in the adjoining dining room. It seated twelve. He poured a tall glass of sun tea and joined her. “We used to have people around all the time. Tourists. Sometimes I hated it, having strangers in my house. Other times, I really enjoyed it. When my grandparents died, I couldn’t keep the bed and breakfast going. I raise quarter horses. That keeps me busy.”

      “My work keeps me busy, too.”

      He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “If we decide to go through with this, I want full custody of the child. I’d want this to be like an adoption on your part.”

      She gazed into her tea. “I know.”

      “I couldn’t take another custody battle, Melanie. You have to be sure you can do this. You have to convince me I can trust you, that you’re being completely honest.”

      A shadow hooded her blue eyes. They went from daylight to dark in an instant. “A custody battle? I don’t understand.”

      He blew an anxious breath. His scars hadn’t healed. Dredging up the past hurt, but she had a right to know. “I wasn’t happily married. I married Shelly because of the baby. I never loved her the way a husband should. We argued all the time. She kept accusing me of cheating. I hadn’t been, but she was obsessively jealous. I couldn’t even talk to another woman. After a few miserable years, I told her I couldn’t take it anymore, that I wanted a divorce.”

      Melanie twisted the dainty gold chain around her neck. Colt studied her nervous fingers, bit the inside of his lip and continued. “Things got real ugly after that And Meagan, our daughter, got caught in the middle.” He tugged a hand through his hair. “We ended up in court. It was a long, drawn-out process, but eventually I got custody of Meagan. Shelly was issued weekend and holiday visitations. The psychiatrist who testified seemed to think it was in our daughter’s best interest to remain with me.”

      He pushed his chair back and gripped the tabletop, expelling pain and frustration from the past. “But the court ruling didn’t mean a damn thing because the first weekend Shelly had Meagan, she closed her bank accounts and ran. She kidnapped my little girl. Took her away from me.”

      His brown knuckles whitened. The worst was yet to come. “Even though I searched and hired people, we never found them. A whole year went by and then one day the police showed up at my door Shelly and Meagan had been killed in a drive-by shooting in Chicago.” Colt caught his breath, felt the familiar sting beneath his eyes. “The last time I saw my five-year-old daughter was at her funeral.”

      Someone had killed an innocent child because they’d mistaken Shelly’s car for one belonging to a rival gang member. His baby girl had met a violent death on a cold, empty street. Oh, they’d caught the lone gunman, but knowing that bastard was rotting in jail hadn’t eased his pain. Colt had vowed to himself over and over that no one would ever take another child from him again. Not the child’s mother nor some sick, violent stranger. He would protect this baby with his life.

      Melanie looked up. Her eyes were lined with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

      Colt’s heart clenched. A part of him hated what he was asking her to do. Deep down, he knew a child should be raised by two loving parents, yet Shelly’s deception had made it impossible for him to welcome another woman back into his life. Had Shelly not kidnapped Meagan, his daughter would still be alive.

      He trapped Melanie’s gaze. Finding a surrogate mother was his only recourse.

      “If we create a child, are you willing to hand the baby over to me, walk away and not look back?”

      Colt waited. Melanie Richards didn’t respond.

      Two

      “Melanie?”

      “Colt?”

      “I asked you a question.”

      He hadn’t asked her a question. He’d asked her to give away her flesh and blood Their baby. She wanted to run, the very idea suddenly creating panic. How could she do this?

      She gazed into his dark eyes, at the pain within. How could she not? Colt Raintree needed a family. A woman who loved him. A child. Melanie reached for his hand. She would tell him what he wanted to hear. Convince him to conceive a child with her.

      His callused hand abraded hers. She squeezed it. He would fall in love with her before the baby was born, and later he would understand why she had kept her identity a secret. He would forgive her. After all, compassion had been what their past relationship was based on. How many times had he made her smile when she’d been on the verge of tears? And then there were the boosts of encouragement, the moments when he’d cupped her face and told her, “A smart girl like you can accomplish anything.”

      Melanie sighed. Although she had accomplished plenty over the years, she still hadn’t fulfilled her biggest dream. Melanie Richards had yet to win Colt Raintree’s heart. “I want to give you a child, Colt. I know what this means to you.”

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