The Perfect SolutionChapter 47 Useless Titles
Hours later, Erik lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling, his wife's sleeping body draped and cuddled atop his chest. The faint scent of their earlier lovemaking still hung in the air around them. "I shall never know what I have done to deserve this, but merci, mon Seigneur, merci beaucoup." He ran a gentle hand through his wife's wild mass of curls, brushing a few errant strands from her face. Smiling, he placed a soft kiss upon her forehead, which caused her to stir...