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... de the car...

Ramsey immediately raised the partition behind the front seats and drove toward the corporate headquarters.

Sinclair’s fingers traced over the spot on Camilla’s lower back where she’d been injured, his dark eyes narrowing slightly beneath the fabric of her clothes.

"What happened?"

Camilla blinked in surprise.

She had only winced for a split second—how had Sinclair noticed?

"I bumped into a table corner at the café," she murmured.

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