She smiled at Sam's words.  Could it be?  Had she almost rendered him speechless?  Irene burrowed closer to him, not that it was actually possible, but she just felt like wriggling nearer and snaking her arm up to slip her fingers under his head.<br/><br/>"Spent, Sam.  I'm over-drawn on all accounts," she murmured against his chest.  It felt so good to be like this, close.  Making love was wonderful...now.  But, this was just as good, while vastly different.<br/><br/>"You don't thank me for loving you.  You bone-headed man.  Of course I do; you're so deserving of it and you make me feel the same way---valued, precious.  So, don't you thank me, Sam Markham, or I'll be very, very annoyed with you."  She ruined her fierce words by yawning widely and then chuckling.<br/><br/>"Sleep.  To sleep; perchance to dream," she mumbled.