by Laura Taylor
* * *
David found Emma in bed after he finished his conversation with the ambassador and the embassy security officer. He stood at the end of the bed, his heart bumping erratically in his chest as he surveyed her in repose. Naked and sprawled on her back, her long black hair framed her face and tumbled across her pillow.
Leaning down, David ran his fingertips up the length of her exposed leg. She stirred, but she didn’t awaken. When he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, she moaned and whispered his name. Instead of sinking down beside her, he forced himself to step back from the bed and the temptation she posed.
He knew she needed to sleep, almost as much as he needed to feel her avid mouth and tender touch skimming over his body, lingering here to tantalize, pausing there to torment. Shaken by the depth of his hunger for her, David abruptly turned away and strode into the bathroom.
Stripping down to his skin, he stepped under the needle-sharp spray of a hot shower. He stood there until the muscles in his body began to relax and the hunger he felt for Emma eased to something approaching a manageable level. And all the while he repeatedly reminded himself that he owed them both time to think, time to be certain that being together once they returned to their respective lives was what they both really wanted.
After placing their soiled clothes outside the bedroom door, David extinguished the bedside lamp Emma had left on for him and joined her. He drew her into his arms and pulled a quilt over their bodies.
He held her, absently noting the sound of air-raid sirens in the distance and trying not to think of the next leg of their journey to freedom. If successful, it would end with their parting.
