She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest. "Leave me, Sir; I insist.
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