Her eyes fluttered open, greeted with a tender gaze. A loving smile formed on his lips as he reached for her, brushing back the strands of gossamer soft hair that had fallen along her cheek. His hand lingered a moment on the soft skin, before straying to her neckline down to her shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her back and hugged her to him.

She shifted under the covers, snuggled against his warm body and laid her head on his shoulder. Her eyes drifted over his chest, and her fingers grasped the arm that encircled her, holding her snugly. Morning light drifted in between the closed velvet drapes – the day was well advanced and Sara had never felt so rested. In her memory, she'd never slept this long and she knew she could only attribute the feeling of security and contentment to this man, the love of her life, her husband now – whether or not he was in the eyes of the law.

A contented sigh escaped from her lips as she snuggled closer to him. They'd exchanged vows that were more than mere words. Despite his past communication barriers—especially with her—he didn't hesitate to respond to her vows last night and that had meant more to her than any eloquent and elaborate declaration of love ever could.

Her skin tingled where his fingers drew lazy circles on her back. It was after a few moments of silence that she realized he was spelling out words. She concentrated intently on what he was saying – her name, love, beauty and home were a few of the words she could decipher. It wasn't something she'd expect from Grissom, but then she'd learned over the last few weeks that he was as unpredictable as the weather.

A knock at the door disturbed their quiet ruminations. Grissom called out an 'enter' and Sara's maid came in. She glanced shyly toward the bed and her eyes grew large at the sight of their bare shoulders peaking out from under the sheets. Averting her eyes, she went to stoke the fire and then drew the drapes. She started pouring fresh water into the basin on the dressing table, when Grissom requested a bath for his wife.

Sara looked up at him and he winked. Hearing him call her his wife, with a tenderness she'd never heard from him, brought a tear to her eye.

The maid curtsied before leaving the room.

Grissom reluctantly left her warmth and went to wash his face in the water basin. Sara turned on her side and watched him with amusement. He went through the same ritual every day. Would she ever get tired of it?

She caught his gaze in the mirror. His look sent her blood racing through her, shivers tingling her skin, as his eyes traveled down her face to her throat and then to her bare shoulders.

With a blink of an eye, his expression changed to concern, a frown creasing his brow. It worried her. "Grissom, what's wrong?"

He didn't reply, but instead braced himself on the dressing table with his hands, head bowed, shaking back and forth in disbelief. He looked back up at the mirror, his posture remaining the same. He met her eyes, watching as she sat up and the sheet fell from her, baring her nudity. His breathing hitched as memories of last night warmed his heart. But now, the look of worry that was etched across her face brought him back to the present.

He pushed off from the table. When he reached the bed and sat on the edge, he grasped her hands and held them in his lap. "It's not what you think. Last night," he closed his eyes, remembering it vividly. "Last night was a fantasy, come to life. You're beautiful, Sara, in heart, mind and body. I can't find the words to tell you what it means to me. Even if it's not legal, you are my wife in my heart."

Stubborn tears started to form against her wish, beginning when he took her hands in his. She couldn't believe the emotional depths that he was speaking from. She could, however, feel that there was something not quite right and she, with a quiver in her voice, had to ask, "But?"

He sighed, grasping her hands tighter. "I lost my control and got distracted." A shy smile formed on his lips and a chuckle from hers. "But seriously, Sara, I forgot something and it could tremendously affect… us."

A frown knitted on her brow, and her mind raced with the possibilities he could be alluding to. It didn't take much for her to realize what it was. He hadn't said it scared him or that he didn't want it to happen. It sounded more like he was trying to convince her it wasn't such a terrible idea. That they could deal with it. She couldn't agree more.

This time, she gripped his hands, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm not worried about it."

"You're not?"

"No… if it happens, it happens."

Still, he wondered at how the situation would be with a child involved, especially if they were going to be crossing the Atlantic. The journey would take a month, probably longer. – he didn't want her to be sick during their travels.

"I think, until we're settled somewhere…" his voice drifted off, the corners of his mouth lifted as he daydreamed, fantasizing about creating a warm and loving environment to raise a child in together. "We should have a home set up before we decide to have children. We need to be careful."

So he did want to have children, she thought. Relief flooded over her. She'd briefly entertained the notion as she had drifted off to sleep, but hadn't thought about it again until he'd brought up. Last night, well, she couldn't be sure of anything, but she felt an eerie shiver course through her at how close to home he could possibly be. She began internally to count the days... her eyebrows rose with alarm and she darted a glance toward Grissom. He was looking down at their tangled hands and had not seen how startled she was. With some quick forethought, she disguised her thoughts; it wouldn't do any good to alarm him, at least not yet. Instead, she nodded in agreement and asked, "So, where do you want to live in 1822 America?"

He stared blankly at her. Her question caught him off guard. With their topic of conversation having been children, it was unexpected. He licked his lips, his customary nervous reaction. "I, umm, I don't know. Where do you want to live?"

Sara chuckled. "Well, I don't think Las Vegas has been settled yet, so that's out of the question."

Their situation was certainly amusing.

Sara's maid returned with two other maids, all carrying piping hot water in large copper buckets. When they returned with a second load, Sara gracefully eased her body into the steaming water. It was hot, but it eased her sore muscles, muscles that she hadn't used in, well, years.

Grissom watched from the edge of the bed. Instead of letting the maids dote on Sara, he approached the tub and nodded to them that they were excused, taking a sponge from one of the maids before they left.

Sara swivelled her head around, wondering where they were going, but smiled when she saw Grissom approaching her with sponge in hand. She eased back against the tub, letting the water cover up over her breasts, her nipples just barely peaking out through the ripples.

Tormentingly slow, Grissom knelt next to the tub, easing the sponge into the water until it had absorbed all it could. He reached forward and tantalizingly slid it over her shoulders – first over the left, to down below her neck then over to her right shoulder. He dipped the sponge again and pressed it to her chest, gliding it down through the valley between her breasts.

She responded with a groan as she pressed her chest against the sponge. The feeling he had created in her, with so little effort, was intense, leaving her breathless.

He glanced up at her through lowered eye lashes and she met his gaze as his hand moved lower, running the rough sponge along her inner thighs, then back up to swirl in the curls that sheltered her warm center.

"Mmm, Gil," she muttered through a sigh. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes as each new sensation sent ripples of pleasure through her. She lifted her arms and gripped the sides of the tub.

Grissom watched the passion within this woman whom he loved more than any words could say, flit across her face. Her breathing became heavy, panting with each stroke and growing with intensity when he let loose of the sponge, his fingers instantly taking its place to stroke her tight nub. She gasped, the forceful strokes pulling her closer to the edge.

She thought she'd died and gone to heaven when his finger slipped lower, entering her devilishly deliberate in their intent. She lifted her hips meeting each of his thrusts when he pushed a second finger into her. The intensity was too much and she cried out his name as she tumbled over the precipice.

He let her down easy, his strokes becoming mere flicks of tender attention as she slid back to the bottom of her bath tub.

Her eyes opened, seeing the intensity with which he stared at her, making his love for her that much more evident. It touched her deeply. "I don't suppose you want to join me in here?"

Grissom eyed the water and then moved up her long, sensuous body. It would be so easy to slip in and finish what he'd started, but his sensibilities were heightened by his earlier acknowledgement of his slip-up during the night. It was hard enough for a woman to bear a child in this day and age, but to add to it a crossing of the wide Atlantic was more than he wanted to put on her. If things went the way he was now thinking, they could be on a ship within days. He looked down at his hand when he felt a tug on it, Sara's hand having grasped onto it. Reluctantly, he shook his head. "If I do, we'll never leave this room."

Sara understood more than the agreeing nod of her head let on.

After they finished dressing and had breakfast with those guests and family members that were awake, they chose to tell Danielle and Edwin that they would be making plans to return to America.

Danielle was terribly saddened to hear they were leaving; she'd come to think of Sara as a sister and although she'd be gaining one very soon with Edwin's betrothal, it wouldn't be the same.

Edwin was very gracious and offered Grissom his help in anyway he could to obtain passage for their trip and for anything else they would need. He had to attend a meeting with his steward, but gave directions for Mr. and Mrs. Grissom to be driven wherever they required throughout the day.

Within the hour, Sara and Grissom found themselves seated in the carriage and on their way toward the Port Authority offices to obtain their passage – back to America.