I'm trying to get back to my schedule with posts. Everyone has been so patient; waiting for Sam's recovery has taken a toll on Christopher and all the readers following the story. Hopefully you'll find it was worth the wait. Happy reading.

The morning sun broke through the window and cast it's glow on Sam. Christopher watched in awe as the light played through her mussed hair and cast its glow over her nude body. Her skin couldn't be any more perfect, he mused with an appreciative smile. Remembering the portrait begun by Sir Leonard Spenser-Jones, Christopher thought the man must not have been quite as good an artist as everyone seemed to think. He hadn't captured Sam at all, not his Sam, his beautiful Sam.

She began to stir and he watched with fascination as consciousness began to take hold of her. "Morning love," he whispered. She turned her head to look up at him and smiled a very groggy, sleep heavy smile. "It's a beautiful morning," she said drowsily.

He kissed the tip of her nose and she settled once again on his chest. After a moment she began to giggle. Perplexed Christopher asked, "what is it my love?"

Lifting her head, she looked up at his face and then back at the object of her mirth. "Is it always on like that?"

Noting the direction of her gaze, Christopher quirked a smile. "Is when you're so close," he replied as he took note of his early morning how'dya do. "Golly," she answered with large round eyes. But he noticed that her surprise changed to palpable interest.

Her recognition of his state created a debate in Christopher. His instincts beckoned him to act but he knew she had to instigate anything. Her instincts and more importantly her feelings for him had to overcome her fears. Until that happened any action on his part would end in disaster."It's up to you Sam," he whispered. "Mmuch as I want to, we're on your schedule."

She blinked and looked back at him. The fear he saw again in her eyes was undeniable. "I want to, Christopher. I really do. Bbut... I'm so ..." and then she sat up, her fists pounding into the mattress in frustration and anger. "I won't let them win. I won't let them take this from me... take you from me."

Sitting up next to her, wrapping an arm around her, Christopher kissed her tenderly on her temple. "Not taking me anywhere. I'm here; not going anywhere without you."

"But I need to get past this... this fear."

Holding her hand, Christopher kissed her, gently. "Hardest part is getting started, Sam."

Pressing her lips together in a determined expression that Christopher recognized easily, she nodded. And then suddenly she was kissing him frantically. Sam's determination carried them for a few minutes, carried them into a wonderfully blissful state of desire and hunger. It seemed they had suddenly both grown more hands as they touched and survey and much to Christopher's delight, Sam seemed to be more comfortable with his explorations. Also to his delight, her curiosity was quickly becoming insatiable.

This time there was no surprise when she took him in hand. She read all the signals perfectly, learning just how and when to be attentive. And even more significant, she was tolerating Christopher's similar study of her anatomy. Just when he thought he might be at his limit of toleration, he planted a soft kiss on her aromatic mound of Venus, eliciting a primordial moan from Sam that told him she was perhaps ready. "Sam?" he croaked.

"Please... I think... yes..." she whimpered back as he continued his attentiveness.

Christopher positioned himself over her, rested the tip of his manhood against her heat, and paused. "You're sure?" He wasn't quite sure how he'd manage if she said she wasn't; he was already at the point of explosion. Closing his eyes and thinking of the cold sea water, he waited for her acquiescence. The wait wasn't long. She wiggled against him and moaned, "yes." His own determination to take things slowly was at war with his instincts to take her quickly. But with the help of the thoughts of the cold water, his larger brain was able to control his much smaller, more focused one as he sank into her. Christ, she is tight... and... he closed his eyes, fighting thoughts that would carry him over the edge too quickly, leaving Sam behind. Sam...concentrate on Sam. Is she alright?

Risking a glance at her enraptured face, he had his answer. Her head was back, a look of both longing and acceptance blending in her features in a way that made his fire burn even hotter. Her mouth was open slightly and was inviting him, so he accepted, kissing her torridly as he began to withdraw and repeat his journey into her. Her arms rose, her hands on both sides of his head, her fingers in his hair possessively. She was answering his fire! And then... she began to move with him, matching his rhythm. A few more strokes and suddenly she stopped. Just as her pause began to register in his now lust hazed mind, she squeezed him. "Oh..ggod," he stammered, fighting to not lose himself right there. And then she did it again, setting him off in a frenzy that he couldn't contain. Much to his surprise, she was right with him ... to a point.

Much to his chagrin, he couldn't hold back and reached his peak, exploding once again as a result of her effect on him. He knew he'd left Sam behind and was prepared to apologize and do a bit of groveling. Just managing to hold himself still over her, while her body milked him, he was awed by the expression of pure elation her face now wore. Finally, her undulations slowed and then stopped and she released a happy sigh. Only then did he feel he could collapse beside her. She rolled toward him, her arm covering his chest once again. "That was lovely," she cooed contentedly.

Christopher frowned. Had he missed something in the heat of his own completion? He was certain he hadn't. And then he relaxed. Compared to her one previous experience, he supposed it was rather pleasant. And he had plans to show her even more pleasantness in the future.

His evaluation of their first coupling was confirmed when she began exploring again almost immediately. It wasn't that Christopher could or would complain, but he knew he wasn't ready. Still, perhaps he owed it to her to simply lie there and take his punishment?

And what punishment it proved to be! The woman's curiosity was insatiable and she left nothing to chance in her investigation. This time she was taking her time, experimenting and watching his reactions. Much to his surprise and her apparent delight, his little trouble maker was responding well and becoming a bigger trouble maker with each touch. Their second time Christopher was better able to manage his own body and while his explosion was somewhat lackluster compared to the previous one, Sam was able to find completion and he found that even more satisfying.

As they lay together after finding completion in one another, Christopher relished the feel of her against him, nestled in the crook of his arm, her hand resting once again on his chest. He could tell Sam was thinking again by the distracted energy he felt in her touch. "Thinking again, Sam?" he teased.

"Too deliciously tired to think very much. Just... savoring," she said with a gentle brush across his chest. "You're such a clever man, Christopher Foyle. Able to keep the south coast under control during the war, uncovering spies in London, a brilliant fisherman, you can drive even though you prefer not to, know so much about literature and history, and you can take me to the top of the world and make me fly."

Christopher closed his eyes languidly as he soaked in her praise. So she said you made her fly, you old goat. Didn't think you had the capability any longer, but there you are... she's happy, quite happy. And you're feeling a bit chuffed too. Don't let this slip through your fingers. Hold her close and don't let her go...

"Nnot so clever, just enough to let you convince me to marry you," he said softly to tease her.

She looked up at him, "Tosh, you did the asking."

"Wull, ddn't leave me much choice..." he teased again.

"I... I didn't force you," she said, working herself into a proper shambles. "You...asked because ... because you..."

He knew he'd hurt her when he saw how flustered she was and he needed to repair it. "Sam, I asked because I couldn't bear to be without you; had enough of that while I was away in America. And when I came back and saw you again, I knew I couldn't let you go."

That seemed to do the trick as she smiled and relaxed into him again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I suppose I'm still just a bit nervous."

He caressed her back lethargically. "Nno need to apologize. Understandable... all still a bit new for you."

"Yes, but ever so incredible," she said as she nuzzled into him. "I had no idea it could be that... nice."

Christopher smiled his own contented smile. "Careful love, mustn't expect too much from this old man." She was quiet for a moment and then she sighed. "Everything alright?" he asked, a little worried.

"Oh yes." She sighed again. "Just feeling a bit sorry for your first wife," she said mischievously.

"Oh?"

"Well, if you are like this now, when you are ever so much older, then how difficult it must have been for her when you weren't. Must have been a real trial for her." her head lifted and she looked at him enough for him to read the mirth in her eyes.

Christopher pinched her. "Steady on, Mrs. Foyle," he shot back as she jumped.

"Why did you do that?" she squeaked, rubbing her bum where he'd insulted her.

"Mmmm, punishment for your insolence," he teased. "But I probably was a bit of trial for Rosalind in many ways," he said more seriously. "That wasn't one though," he said as he looked at her pointedly. "I was working at rising in the ranks and she had Andrew to chase about the house all day. Hardly the perfect situation for mornings like this one."

"Oh... right," Sam replied thoughtfully. And then the mischief took hold again. ""So I'm the lucky one then," she said as she settled back against him."You're not a policeman anymore and I don't have any little Christophers to chase around so we possibly could have more mornings like this one."

A tingle ran through Christopher as he saw her delight in the notion. "Counting on it," he said smugly. "But I'm the lucky one."