’ ‘Unfair!’ echoed his junior. She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. And I want you for myself—for my wife. They must have a key. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. ’ ‘Yes, she will.
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