Flames Of Attraction. Brenda Jackson
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