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him. She was as wet as he, and she smelled vaguely of cinnamon and potpourri. To his surprise, he liked feeling Abby Wynne so closeand he hated it. His body was reacting treacherously. Months had passedmaybe longersince he had been aroused by a woman. He had been content to feel nothing. Now, despite himself, he enjoyed the combining and strengthening of their body heat. |
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Soon she stopped shiveringbut he did not let her go. He did not want to release her, not yet. Amazed, upset with himself yet filled with a compulsion impossible to ignore, he realized he might not ever want to let go of this strange yet lovely young woman. |
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The man who held her close made Abby feel small and protected. It was not a sensation she was used toand despite her upbringing, which forbade unmarried men and women to act in such a manner, she discovered she liked it. The warmth radiating from his large, firm body even helped her take her mind off their periland the fact that she huddled there half nude with a strange man who had ripped her skirt right from her body. |
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He had done it, of course, to save her life. Still, she could not help feeling humiliated, for it appeared now that they would live. |
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She looked up, intending to thank himand found herself gazing again into the depths of those gray eyes that so resembled Arlen's. But they were not Arlen's. They were deeper, more |
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