9
Sam had showered, dressed and made coffee. He placed a steaming mug of hot coffee on the side table next to the bed and watched Sarah as she slept.
Sarah lay on her back, casually sprawled diagonally across the bed, her naked body covered only by a sheet. Her hair spilled haphazardly over the pillow, and as she slept, a wayward strand of hair on her lips fluttered gently, in sync with her soft breathing.
Sam Rose was not one to use the ‘love’ word frivolously. In fact, in relation to members of the opposite s*x, he had only ever used it twice. Indeed, given his penchant for and his long history of relationships with ladies, it was a statistic some might find less than believable.
The first time he had considered himself to be genuinely in love ended in disappointment. The object of h
