"Orv ... you're kidding..."
But she knew he was not kidding. But now, now she wanted to put on her clothes, the playful sex mood was over, she wanted to take her skirt and blouse off the nail, hide her sex. The hay and straw became ugly: why was she such a fool, risking pregnancy again? And in this stable! At this time! She was the biggest ass in France! Then, in spite of herself, in spite of her reasoning, she yanked her body over his and hugged him desperately, kissed him desperately, aware of the weeks ahead without him.
Like Chuck ... another blindness!
All right, then another blindness.
Chuck, Chuck, where are we?
"Hold me, love me love me," she begged.
He cuddled her, mouth to her shoulder, fingers exploring, enjoying her warmth, fumbling at the same time for something had spattered in his brain: a voice, then, a roar, the pressure of fighting, Landel at his cannon, Zinc and his machine gun, all the impotence of violence.
He watched her get dressed.
She was no longer his.
Buttoning the cuff of her blouse, she asked: