Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his arms and forming a tented cage. “Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that.
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