Spurling. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. ’ ‘Back?’ Melusine put a hand to her aching temple. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. She let out a wail. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them.
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