The morning sun spilled through the curtains in lazy streaks of gold. Diana stirred first, her body deliciously sore in places that made her blush to even think about. The sheets were tangled around her legs, the faint scent of sweat and salt still clinging to the air.

Emma was curled into her, skin warm against skin, both of them bare beneath the rumpled blanket. Her arm rested possessively across Diana's stomach, as if she'd refused to let go even in her sleep.

For a long time, Diana simply ...