He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it. He threw her on the bed. " "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. She was the first to recover herself. Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it.
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