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But somehow, now that he'd revealed the truth to Abby, it didn't hurt as much. |
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He'd caused Abby pain, though. Maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt, the way she did with him. Yet |
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He blurted out before he could change his mind, "Tomorrow, we're going to find those damned journals." He felt, rather than heard, her sharp intake of breath. "Look, maybe I've been too" He never finished the thought as his mouth became too busy to say more. |
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Once again, Abby walked through the glass-paneled door into Aunt Jess's antique-jammed parlor, this time following Grace and Mike. |
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Jess sat on her favorite settee, knees primly together beneath the long, sky blue skirt tucked about them. Her silvery hair billowed around ancient features, so like Lucy's, that always made Abby want to weep with homesickness. |
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"Now don't upset her," Grace scolded before Mike began to speak. |
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Wearing dark trousers and a crisp yellow shirt, he moved his large frame with pantherlike suppleness that reminded Abby of their wonderful, secret nights together. Like last night. She never had imagined that lovemaking could steal all sense of propriety. Or perhaps it was the fact that she made love with Mike that transported her to such amazing heights. She would not need a ride on one of those soaring jets, so long as she could remain with him. |
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She wished she did not feel so relieved that |
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