“They are coming past our table. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. Her steps slowed.
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