“Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. I didn’t betray you, I swear I didn’t. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered.
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