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She clicked off, then darted him a glance. “He’s on his way to work and will call us.”
Anxious to alleviate his anxiety, she got up and walked over to him. Grasping his hands, she said, “Would it help if I tell you it’s not time for me to be ovulating yet? If I’d thought there was any chance for me to conceive, I would have talked to you about it first.”
She felt his body shudder with relief.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Andreas. I want a baby. Your baby. But I asked you if we could have this trial period to see if we could make a real marriage between us. Until we know it’s rock-solid, we have no business bringing a child into the world.”
His hands slid to her shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more. Last night I wasn’t think—”
The rest of the words came out muffled because she’d covered his lips with hers to quiet them. “Last night was the most glorious night of my life. That’s the way it should be when two people are in love. Please don’t ruin it with regrets.”
“Dominique—”
He crushed her mouth with his own, sweeping them away to the same place they’d gone last night. Yet the way he clung to her revealed needs and fears he hadn’t yet articulated.
There was so much she still had to understand about her husband. God willing, they would make it through the next month and have a stronger union for it.
Just as he’d picked her up and started for the bedroom his cellphone rang. “That’s probably Dr. Josephson,” she said when he relinquished her mouth.
He carried her over to the couch and sat down with her on his lap. She reached for the phone and identified herself. It was the doctor.
“Hello, Dominique. My receptionist said you were anxious to talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Actually, it’s my husband who would like some questions answered. Do you have time now?”
“Is he right there?”
“Yes.”
“Put him on.”
Their conversation went on long enough that she slid off his lap and went into the kitchen for drinks. He kept a stock of juices in the fridge. She pulled two from the rack and carried them back to the living room.
Whatever Dr. Josephson said must have relieved her husband somewhat. When he hung up, more animation lit his handsome features. His black eyes didn’t appear as haunted.
She removed the cap and handed him a bottle of ice-cold lemonade. He took it and devoured most of the contents before setting it down on the table.
“That tasted good,” he murmured, studying her intently.
“I thought we could both use one.”
His intimate gaze traveled down her figure. “I like your dress. The colors blend perfectly with your hair and skin.”
Her body started to tremble. “It’s simple.”
“It’s stunning.”
“Thank you.”
“Paul told me you came to Greece without luggage.”
“I bought a few items in Fiskardo.”
“Enough for all of two days,” he said dryly.
She had an idea where this conversation was leading. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she would ask her parents to ship her wardrobe from Sarajevo. But at the last second she caught herself.
In the past she’d never let Andreas go shopping for clothes with her. She’d returned the one outfit he’d bought for her without trying it on. It had been a dress a little like the one she was wearing, but she’d wanted something that hugged her neck and hid her body. She hadn’t felt beautiful, and had preferred that her thin arms were covered too.
