It was like they were newlyweds again. Even the news about the choir's selection couldn't upset Shelagh. Sheets of music spread out over the sitting room floor, piles of records on the chair, the cabinet. Usually such a mess would drive her to distraction, but for now she was content to dance in Patrick's arms. She rested her head upon his chest and closed her eyes. Their time estranged from each other had taught them both how important it was to trust the other. Silence would not always do. They still had much to tell each other, but knew it would all be shared.

"Let's go to bed," he whispered in Shelagh's ear.

A tingle went down her spine, but out of habit, she pulled away. "First let me straighten up this mess. And there's the tea to put away-"

"No. Let's go to bed, now." He pulled her closer to him, and she could feel the urgency in him. Resistance slipped away. She could clean up later. Or in the morning.

She stepped out of his arms and took his hand. "What are you waiting for?" she teased.

Later, sated and relaxed, Shelagh wrapped herself around him. The increased trust they had started to build had had a delightful consequence. Of course, she had been nervous when they first married. Nothing in her previous life had prepared her for the intimacies of the marriage bed, but Patrick was gentle-and patient-with his wife. Gradually, Shelagh became more relaxed and self-assured. What had begun as a sweet sharing had deepened into something even more profound. Now more passionate, their love-making became a sensual experience Shelagh had never anticipated. She was eager for him to claim her, and at times became an enthusiastic instigator.

Breathing in his skin, she giggled.

"What?" he laughed.

"Nothing."

"Shelagh, we promised to tell each other everything."

"Maybe not everything, Patrick. Should keep some of the mystery, don't you think?" Her hand caressed his neck.

"Not if the mystery comes with a giggle like that," Patrick declared, his voice husky. Shelagh knew where this was headed. Again.

"Patrick!" His hands were stirring, finding her ticklish spot. "Patrick, please…"

"Patrick, please what?" he murmured, only barely touching her now. "Tell me what you were thinking."

"Please, Patrick. I can't. It's too…" She buried her face into his neck, and took a deep breath. "This is so embarrassing. It's about...It's about your libido."

"My libido?!"

"Oh, please, Patrick. It's just a silly question. Don't make me say it."

"I am very sorry, madam, but if you bring up the subject of a man's libido, you absolutely may not drop said subject." Deftly, he rolled her on her back, kissing her collarbone. He knew she didn't think well when he did that. "You were saying?"

Closing her eyes, Shelagh took a deep breath.

"Isn't it, well...isn't it rather…" she fumbled for words.

"Really quite tremendous?" he supplied. His hands were everywhere now, and he caught her laugh in a deep kiss. Words were forgotten as lips glided over lips, tongues met and danced languidly. They were content with this loving, postponing the fierce intensity both knew would come. His hands glided over his body, and his mouth left hers to taste her skin.

"What I was going to say," Shelagh continued, as if there had been no interuption, "was-oh-was…"

"Hmm? What were you going to say?" came his whispered voice from somewhere above her navel. "About my libido?" She could feel his smile against his skin.

"Libido? Oh, yes. Yes!" His fingers were flitting over her thigh. Suddenly, she pulled away. He was not happy to break the contact. "Yes, your libido." Sensuous Shelagh was replaced by Bossy Shelagh. "Patrick, I know that my knowledge of the subject is limited to what they told us in Nursing School and, well, and you, but it seems to me that yours is highly pronounced!"

He nipped at her shoulder. "Are you complaining? You seem to be quite content as you are!"

"Yes! I mean, yes, I am content." She moaned as he moved towards the other side. "But Patrick. I have to ask. You aren't twenty years old anymore…"

"Are you afraid for my stamina? Because if you are, I can assure you that I can go for much longer. You should be worried about your own!" His body shifted, and she could feel the weight of him pressing her into their bed.

The words rushed out. "But that's just it! Patrick, if this is what you are like now, you must have been insatiable twenty years ago! You must have been relentless!" Blushing fiercely, Shelagh could not believe what she had just said. Neither, it seemed, could Patrick. For a moment, neither of them breathed, and then the bed began to shake with their laughter.

Rolling on to his back, Patrick pulled Shelagh atop him. "Sweetheart. My lovely wife. I have never been a man of over-eager needs. I suppose I've been quite ordinary, in fact." He threaded his fingers through her hair, rubbing his thumb over her ear. "I didn't have any complaints, not really. Sex was never an obsession with me. It was a lovely way to spend an hour, don't get me wrong. But it never was what it has become."

Shelagh stared down into her husband's eyes. "And what has it become?"

He smiled. "When we are together, when we make love, I am so completely connected to you. My spirit unites with you so completely, that my body simply rises to the occasion." The last was accompanied by a smirk. "So you see, it's not me, it's us. Together."

Shelagh rested her head on his chest. "So what you're saying then, is that my libido…"

"Is really quite tremendous!"