Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. ” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged.
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