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She snuggled closer to him, reveling in the physical contact, needing the affirmation of her place in his life. He'd been desperate for her, but did that mean anything more than he hadn't tired of her physically yet? She could not believe he could touch her so gently and take such care to insure her pleasure and still hate her.
The absence of hatred did not guarantee love, however. And she needed his love, now more than ever. She took the masculine hand resting on her hip and pulled it over her to press against her flat stomach. Her menses had not come. She wanted to take a pregnancy test, but she was sure deep inside that she carried Dash's baby.
Would he be happy? She wondered. His mother would be ecstatic, but it wasn't her mother-in-law that Tess wanted to please. It was the man who had made such beautiful love to her, the man now holding her as if she meant something to him, as if he had missed having her in his bed as much as she had missed his presence in the night.
The past few days had been horrible and she had vacillated between certainty that marrying Dash had been the biggest mistake of her life to an irrepressible hope that things could get better, that he would come to care more deeply for her. After that first phone call, he had called every day. She didn't know if it was because he wanted to put a good front on for his family, or if he'd discovered he needed the connection as much as she did. Did it really matter?
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