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... ill in place. He had just complimented her writing, and she had, in response, frozen. She was staring at him, her lips parted, her book forgotten in her lap. Her hazel eyes were wide, and he could see a thousand, unreadable, frantic thoughts swimming in them. She looked, he thought, like a startled, beautiful fawn.
"Ines?" he asked softly, his voice a low, gentle rumble.
Ines blinked.
She was pulled, with a jarring snap, from the depths of her own mind. She had been stari ...
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