Quade's Babies - Brenda Jackson [29]
“No.”
“Any other children?”
He shook his head. “No. The triplets are my first and I feel blessed to have them. Thank you.”
She knew why he was thanking her. “There’s no reason to thank me. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted them and never considered any other option.” She didn’t add that she’d known they would be a constant reminder of him and their one night together.
“Okay, that does it. You’re falling asleep on me again,” Quade said.
Before Cheyenne could catch her next breath, Quade had stood up, crossed the room and swept her into his arms. “Hey, put me down!”
“No. Not until I get you into bed.”
Her heart jumped in her chest with his words. If only he knew the picture his words suddenly painted in her mind. “I can’t go to bed yet, Quade. I have a lot of things to do.”
He looked down at her. “Like what?”
She rolled her eyes. “I had my sisters over for dinner so there’re still dishes in the sink that I need to load in the dishwasher. Then the babies’ clothes that I washed earlier need to be folded and I need to take out the trash for tomorrow morning’s pick up.”
“Consider them all done. I’ll handle it.”
She glared up at him. “No, I can do it myself.”
He glared back. “The only thing you have to do is take care of yourself, so you can in turn take care of my babies.”
She frowned. “Your babies?”
A softening flickered in the depths of his dark eyes when he said, “Yes, my babies.”
She held his gaze and swallowed deeply, knowing there was no way she could deny what he’d said. They were his babies. Quade’s babies.
“Now are you going to be easy or will you be a troublemaker like our son?” he said, smiling.
She wished he wouldn’t smile like that. Whenever he did, it stirred things up within her that she preferred to keep still. “Steeles aren’t known to be troublemakers, so he must get it from your side of the family, the baby-making Westmorelands.”
He chuckled. “We can do more than make babies. We can also be great husbands once we put our minds to it.”
She rolled her eyes upward. “Spare me.”
“Wish I could, but I can’t,” he said with a wry smile. “In fact, I plan to do just the opposite. Starting tonight I’m going to lay it on thick.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Do you know what that means?”
She looked away from him and then said. “No.”
He knew she was lying. She knew. “Well, then I feel obliged to tell you. By the time I’m through with you, Cheyenne Steele, you will be falling into my arms and agreeing to do anything I want.”
She snatched her gaze back to him, curled her lips and said, “Why are you so arrogant?”
“Am I?” he asked as he began walking toward her bedroom with her nestled in his arms.
“Yes.”
“Never noticed.”
Cheyenne released a sigh, refusing to say anything else. She doubted it would do any good anyway. When he stopped walking, she glanced around and saw she was in her bedroom.
“Here you are,” he said, angling her body to slide down his. Her sharp intake of breath was a dead giveaway that she had felt his arousal as her feet slid to the floor. Some things she figured just couldn’t be hidden. And, she thought further, the heat simmering between them was another thing neither of them could hide. It was just like that first night. She had wanted him then and she hated admitting that she wanted him now.
When her feet touched the carpeted floor, she still held on to his shoulders and it seemed her body automatically swayed closer to his as if it needed the contact. She studied his features. “Troy favors you.”
He smiled as he tightened his hands around her waist. “Yes, he resembles a Westmoreland. And the girls look like you.”
She nodded. “We did good, didn’t we? We make beautiful babies.”
“Yes,” he said huskily. “The result of perfect lovemaking.”
She gave a little pleased smile. “You think so?”
“I know so. Close your eyes for a moment and remember it.”
Cheyenne could feel the heat of his gaze on her the moment she closed her eyes.