64
Connie awoke with no questions about where she was. John’s gentle breathing was still regular with sleep. She knew how much time had passed, could tell by her internal clock that it was late afternoon, despite the heavy gray out the porthole glass.
She had never been one to lie abed. Her father had called her his “personal alarm clock” because of how she simply sat upright fully awake.
This afternoon she didn’t want to move an inch. John lay warm beside her. His arm still draped lazily around her. He’d held her in his sleep.
She rolled until her nose rested against his skin and breathed him in, deep and warm. She could grow very, very used to this. John had definitely spoiled her for any other man.
What was she thinking?
There was only one man she wanted. And he lay here beside he
