There were no words between them. Not that they were awkward as they dressed, pulling on flight suits, tucking pantlegs into boots, holstering weapons.
Emily thought it was exactly the opposite. They dressed exactly as they flew, exactly as they’d made love, in absolute and perfect harmony. Never had such peace washed over her as when Mark brushed at her hair with his fingers and as she strapped his watch about his wrist.
If she’d felt mellow after waking in the hospital, when he had taken such exquisite care of her body, she’d need a new word to define her feelings now. Languid. Sanguine. Glorious!
None of them were enough.
She started laughing. A giggle at first, but it built and built until it rolled about the hangar and pulled Mark into its arms and hers.
They began to dance. A ja
