“Eglantine.” Harry peeled herself off his chest and looked down at him. “We have to get out of bed.” “I don’t think we do, no.” “We do. We’re becoming sloths. For three days all we’ve done is make love, drag ourselves out to the patio to eat, take short breaks to swim, and then we’re back in bed again.” His gorgeous dark eyes glittered at her with a light that never failed to make her shiver with delight. “You could be right. We should eat in bed. That would eliminate all that patio time.” She laughed. She couldn’t help it—he filled her with so much joy, she felt as if it were bursting from her. She wanted badly to say it, positively ached to mention the word, but she wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to hear it yet. He seemed happy, yes. He certainly had done everything possible to make the last few days filled with nothing but happy memories.
