She turned a resolute face southward. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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