His arms snaked around her hips and gripped her tightly. The warm weight of his embrace sent a surge of tenderness through her. She brushed her palm over the silky blond hair on his head, still damp from the bath. Her fingertips were sore from writing and the cool softness of his hair felt good against the abused skin. He held her a little tighter and inhaled sharply when she dug her fingernails into the back of his neck and scratched along the contours of his skull the way she knew he liked. “I love you so much,” he murmured into her belly, then turned his head to rest his cheek on her thigh. She gazed down at the dark blond shape of his head, the beautiful profile with clenched brows, sharp cheekbones and long, straight nose. He was just like a child, seeking comfort from whatever tiny yet insurmountable turmoil he had encountered. For him it had been her desire to replace him. At least that’s what she realized he had seen it as. It had never occurred to her that either of her lovers might see a child as competition for her love.
