chapter ten
It was morning when Eden noticed that Adam was gone. She could see the sun steaming in one window and hear the plaintive sound of mourning doves outside. She could tell he had just left because the sheets beside her were still warm and the scent of him was on the pillow—the soap scent from the night before.
When he came from the bathroom, he was standing naked over her and she looked up at him and smiled.
“I should fix your breakfast,” she said, about to bolt from bed.
He stopped her short.
“You stay here a while. Get used to the morning and your body. I imagine you’ll be sore. Besides, I think you’ll want to see what’s on TV,” he advised her. “When you’re done, you can shower and take care of your wounds—though I don’t see that I left too many marks.”
She wanted to
