Exhausted, they both slept for most of the afternoon, their limbs intertwined like tangled vines.  From time to time, a body stirred, or a hand brushed against skin, or a few affectionate words dropped from drowsy lips.  But mostly, they were still.  Until Dumas opened his eyes and glanced at Mari’s clock.  A lazy smile curled his lips when he saw that a few hours remained before either of them needed to be at work.  However, when he shut his eyes again, sleep proved stubbornly elusive.  It figured.  He’d never been able to rest for long periods (another little gift from his time in the military).  Yawning, Dumas shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow.<br/><br/>Gazing down at Mari, Dumas still couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He thought that he’d hurt her beyond all forgiveness.  And yet, here she lay, sleeping beside him.  What could explain this miracle?  Was she an angel sent from heaven?  Could anything except an angel withstand the hell that raged inside him?  Shaking his head, Dumas cast away such whimsical thoughts.  Mari’s heart might be divine, but her body was flesh and blood, just like his own.  She was a woman.  She was<span style="font-style: italic">his</span>woman.  And now that she’d truly given herself to him, he’d never let her go.<br/><br/>Gently, Dumas stroked Mari’s throat, until his fingers reached the silver necklace chain.  Following its slender pathway led him to the small brown bunny charm.  He’d have tell her about that now -- he’d have to tell her about everything.  There couldn’t be any more secrets between them.  But that could wait for a little while longer.  For now, she should rest as long as she needed to.  He’d keep her safe.  Settling back down on the bed, Dumas wrapped his arms around Mari and waited for her to wake.