This time, their lovemaking was slower and tender, rather than urgent. The warm water and oils made every touch silky smooth, every movement languid and deliberate.
When they finally emerged from the tub, the water had cooled and their fingers were thoroughly prune-like, but Fenella felt more relaxed than she had in a long time.
"I could sleep for a week," she announced, toweling off with one of Kalugal's luxurious Egyptian cotton towels.
"We have about ten hours before we need to leave for the airport," Din said, checking his watch.
He was so literal that sometimes it was funny.
Naked in bed, Fenella sighed contentedly as she curled into Din's side. "You know what I'm most excited about?"
"What's that?"
"Decorating our house. Making it ours." She propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "I've never done that before."
He wrapped his arm around her. "We will go shopping together and find other hideous but unique items."
She laughed. "You have terrible decorating taste."
"My taste is not terrible," he protested. "It's eclectic."
"Din, you bought a lamp that looks like a brass octopus with tentacles."
"Octopus? It looks nothing like an octopus. That lamp has character," he insisted, then yelped as she poked his ribs. "Fine, if you hate it that much…"
"I love it," she admitted, settling back against him. "I love how excited you get about the weirdest things. Like that plate with the constipated camel."
"He's not constipated; he's contemplating."
"He's definitely constipated." She yawned. "But I love that you saw him and immediately thought, 'This needs to come home with us.'"
"You're mocking me," he said, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
"I'm not," she said seriously. "I do love it. No one else would get so enthusiastic about ugly lamps and constipated camel plates. It's very... you."
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."
"It is." She pressed a kiss to his chest. "I love that you're already thinking about making our home special, even if your version of special is a bit strange." She yawned again. "I'm keeping you, you know. Terrible taste and all."
"Good," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Because I'm keeping you, too. Messy bathrooms and reality-show addiction and all."
"Healthy interest," she mumbled, already half asleep.
"Of course. My mistake."
As sleep pulled her under, Fenella felt the last of her anxiety fade away. "Love you," she whispered into the darkness.
"Love you too," came the reply, along with a gentle squeeze.
