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Because, good God, Lily Wellstone had the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and the spirit of the devil glinting from her eyes. She was a woman worth losing his soul for
Carolyn Jewel
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He did not want to go to his grave knowing he had risked nothing for the woman he wanted. He wasn’t an ass, though. Or if he was, he did not wish to give her incontrovertible evidence of the fact. What to say to her, then, when he knew he was likely to speak too gruffly?
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Oxthorpe stood. He could do nothing else. Her hands stilled, and her smile faded away. She stood and dropped into a curtsy. What did one say in such situations, when one knew a lady disapproved? “Miss Clay,
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