In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. It can wait a bit longer. ‘—and what do I do? Well, we know what I do. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. “It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. It worked. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. 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. Earles drew out his cheque book.
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