"Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. shouldn’t be friends. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. He was tall, nearly six feet, and from his stature it was clear that he spent some spare time working on his physique.
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