Perfect Strangers

Suddenly a yell came from the ship: "Emmanuel! What is taking so long?"

Emmanuel lifted his head at the sound, his lips pursed.

"I must go," he said. "Lay here and wait for your man. He will come to your rescue."

"I do not want to be rescued," Violet said. "Not from you."

Emmanuel looked deep into Violet's eyes. Without another word he lowered his head and placed his lips upon hers, the two embracing for the first time. Violet felt his rough lips caress hers so sweetly, and when the yelling came again and he pulled away she felt a part of her being taken with him.

"Fare thee well, m'lady," he said, and swiftly he turned and walked away, leaving her there alone.

Violet lay down in the grass, her body weak from the night. She fell into an unrestful sleep, and now here she was, still in her husband's embrace. He slowly lifted her to a sitting position and held her at arm's length, looking her up and down.

"My dear Violet, you look terrible. Tell me, did they do anything untoward? Did they violate you in any way?"

Violet's mind fluttered for a second to her last moments with Emmanuel, the feeling of his kiss still lingering on her lips.

"No," she said at last. "They did not a thing."

"Good," the Lord Roland said. "Then we shan't have to attack them after all."

~~~

Veronica heard Greg swearing loudly, her concentration being pulled from the story.

"Greg?" she called into the kitchen. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah!" he called back. "I just burned myself, it's no problem."

She hesitated. "Do you want some help?" she offered.

"No, I've got it!" he called, and she let out her breath.

Veronica went back to reading, engrossing herself in the story. In the kitchen, Greg finished making his meal -- Kraft macaroni and cheese -- and took it to the dining room table to eat. Veronica only half-listened to him eating in silence, and when he was finished he took the bowl back to the kitchen and started cleaning up.

When he was finally done he came into the living room, hovering a few feet away from the chair.

"Umm, I finished cleaning the kitchen," he said, and Veronica looked up from her book.

"Great," she said.

"Did you ... want to wa

tch some TV?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure I missed most of the game, but … we can watch whatever you want."

"No, I think I'm okay," she said, and Greg seemed to deflate a little.

"Oh, okay," he said. "Well, I guess I'll be in the TV room then."

"Okay," Veronica said, and she went back to the book before he left the room. As he turned and walked away she glanced up at his retreating back. She watched him walk, shoulders down, out of the room and a minute later the sound of the television came on, sports announcers telling the viewers at home what the score was. Veronica dropped her gaze back down to the book again and kept reading.

Chapter 11

The next morning Veronica awoke alone again in her bed. She blinked and stretched, glancing over at the clock: 9:41. She'd slept later than she had anticipated. But at the same time, she felt more rested than she had in years. Throwing the covers off of her, she donned her dressing gown and went downstairs to the kitchen.

The kitchen looked tidy, and there was a note on the table:

"Hey honey,