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He smiled. "I suppose I thought we'd have a madly impractical, terrifyingly modern sort of marriage. One based on love. Not to mention dangerous undertakings and hair's-breadth escapes from burning buildings, high ledges and exploding sewers.""And bickering.""Always that, yes.""Assuming I want to marry at all.""True. I know of no good way of forcing you to do anything.""And you're mad enough to think it could work - one day?"He cupped her face in his hands. His smile was so brilliant it seemed to illuminate the room. "I think it would be heaven."She trembled, then. "You have a very strange idea of heaven.""Kiss me and see
Y.S. Lee
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Calmly, slowly, she reached behind with her left hand and came up against — yes, fabric. Fine linen, to be precise. So far, so good: she was inside a wardrobe, after all. The only problem was that this linen was oddly warm. Body warm. Beneath the tentative pressure of her palm, it seemed to be moving...With terrifying suddenness, an ungloved hand clamped roughly over her nose and mouth. A long arm pinned her arms against her sides. She was held tightly against a hard, warm surface."Hush," whispered a pair of lips pressed to her left ear. "If you scream, we are both lost
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