He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. Sanguine they were not. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. “Um, he took me to the Big Apple. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. Nothing seemed to be amiss. When she spoke, her lips twitched.
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