Chapter 9

"Well, did you?" he asked when Teresa offered no reply and just stared at him coldly. "What's the matter baby, cat got your tongue?" he mocked holding her even tighter when she would have pulled away.

"Let go of me Fox. What goes on between Dylan and me is no one's business but our own," she yelled and Fox's face tightened with anger at her refusal to answer him.

"Well, seeing as he's reaped the benefits of what I started I don't see why I shouldn't also enjoy the comforts of your sweet body," Fox replied silkily though inside he was seething with rage. The thought of his Resa in the arms of his best friend made him see red, especially after what had happened between them that afternoon.

"I don't want your filthy hands on me," Teresa yelled trying in vain to slip free of his hold.

"You didn't have a problem with my hands when we were out by the pool. In fact you loved everything I did to you," he replied easily, shifting his weight so she could feel how aroused he was. Teresa's eyes fluttered closed and the now familiar warmth began to spread over her.

Fox felt her body begin to soften and mold itself to his and grinned triumphantly. Taking advantage of the fact that she had ceased to struggle he bent his head and captured her mouth in a hard, hungry kiss, without any of the gentleness that he'd shown earlier. He was too angry to be gentle and what he really wanted was to punish her for her actions earlier and for giving to Dylan what she'd refused him. Streaking his fingers in her silky, dark hair he held her head tightly as he deepened the hard, punishing kiss. Teresa felt angry tears seep from her lashes even as her body molded itself to his and before Fox could break her completely she bit his tongue, hard enough to draw blood.

"You little bitch," he yelled furiously.

"That's so you realize that I don't let any man put his hands on me unless I want them there," she told him with a proud tilt of her head and Fox watched her with a mix of anger and admiration.

"And next time you lay a finger on me without my consent, I'm going to do a lot worse," she threatened before running to the safety pf her room.

When she had reached the sanctuary of her room, Teresa leaned against the door and let the angry tears fall. Fox's accusations had wounded her deeply, how could he think that she would run from his arms to Dylan's in the blink of an eye?

"Because he saw the two of you together, fool," her conscience whispered.

"Damn him, damn him to hell," she muttered angrily wiping her tears. But even as she cursed him, she wanted him, could still feel the imprint of his body pressed against her and the taste of him on her mouth.

"Stop it Teresa, just stop it. Fox isn't the man for you, he loves Chelsea," she told herself.

"But Chelsea is dead and that makes Fox a free man," she whispered.

"You're playing with fire Teresa and you're going to get burned," her conscience warned.

But Teresa didn't care, all of her life she'd done the right thing and that had gotten her nowhere. She wanted Fox, her body burned for him the way it had never wanted anyone else and she knew it was mutual. Fox wanted her with the same passion and intensity that she wanted him. What did it matter that he didn't love her? Ethan had claimed to love her and he had broken her heart. And if what she suspected was true, well then she had an even stronger reason to go after what she wanted.

And what she wanted was Fox. With a little sigh she walked to the bathroom to take the test that would forever change her life. Again.

Fox sat on one of the sofas, a snifter of brandy in his hand as he thought back to the conversation he'd had with Teresa. He'd seen the wounded look in her eyes when she'd run out of the room and he hated the fact that he'd put it there.

"Go talk with her, fool. You can't just leave things like that," a tiny part of him whispered.

But he was afraid. Teresa occupied so many of his thoughts already that Chelsea's memory was becoming dimmer and dimmer and it pained him to admit that the pain of her loss was easing thanks to the feelings he'd developed for Teresa. Chelsea had only been gone six months and she deserved better than for her husband to be chasing someone else so soon.

"I'm sorry babe, so sorry," he murmured but he didn't know if he was apologizing to Chelsea or to Teresa.

Throwing the snifter against the wall in an abrupt motion, he scrambled to his feet and made his way to the stairs. Getting drunk was not going to solve his problems and suddenly all he wanted was a cold shower and his bed. He'd worry about his feelings…tomorrow.

Teresa stared at the small tube with incredulity.

"Pregnant? Oh God, what the hell am I going to do?" she murmured with a rising sense of panic.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

A/N- As always all feedback is appreciated