My husband, she thought in wonder. Mr. Fines—no, Paul—lay on his side, head propped up on his left hand where his wedding band gleamed. When their gazes met, his mouth tipped up, and an answering smile formed on hers. They'd done it. They were well and truly married. "Hello, sleepyhead. Didn't know if you were done in until the morning." His thumb swept over her bottom lip. The casual intimacy made her heart skip a beat. "I must have dozed off. But I'm feeling quite awake now," she said. It was true. Being with him like this, snug in their intimate cocoon, she didn't want to miss a thing. "Good. Because there's something I forgot to do earlier," he said. Thinking of his thorough lovemaking, she couldn't imagine anything he'd missed. He must have read her thoughts because he laughed. "What a wicked little baggage I've married, to be sure." Flushing with sudden embarrassment, she averted her gaze.
