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Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. ’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her. And then you go—and half throttle me. ’ Gerald hissed in a doubtful breath. The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight. ” “He was probably right,” she declared. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly. Parbleu, but I will certainly kill him this time.
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