She paused for a moment before opening the door to the bathroom, trying to steel herself for the fact that he was probably in the living room putting sheets on the couch.

But when she opened it, he was in the bed, sleeping on his back. His upper body was bare, his arm thrown over his face to block out the sunlight. The thin, beige curtains were little protection against the noon rays. His gun was in its holster, slung over the headboard, and his body was relaxed in sleep.

Her stomach did a little flip and she sucked in her breath. He wasn't the teenager she'd almost married. Not by a long shot. Muscles ripped in his stomach, and hair curled on his chest. His bicep was flexed where it rested across his face, and there was a long scar on the back of his arm. He was all man, and she wanted him. And what she was feeling didn't feel at all like the call of a lost first love. It felt like woman wanting a man.

Maybe she should sleep on the couch, not him.

She walked to the bed and lifted the covers, scooting in carefully so as not to shake the bed and wake him. He grunted, but didn't move.

Kim curled up on her side so she could watch him, clutching her bandaged hand to her chin. His chest was rising softly with each breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. He still hadn't shaved, and the whiskers on his chin were long. She trailed her fingers over his jaw, remembering the first time he'd let her shave him. She'd cut him six times, and he'd still let her try again a week later.

She sighed.

Then Sean jerked and he moved his arm, his eyes at half mast as he peered sleepily at her.

She smiled.

He closed his eyes again and shifted his arm in that move he used to do when he wanted her to snuggle up against him. She wiggled forward until her head was resting on the front of his shoulder. Then he curved his arm around her and pulled her up against him, his fingers buried in her hair.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep breathing the familiar scent of the man who'd never left her heart.

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