It was an impulse. “Michelle, I don’t ever want to hear you mention the subject you mentioned at dinner again. “Your friend, “DAVID COURTLAW. She gurgled. His brute strength surged through her veins, she could feel his energy in her heart, his life force stolen like candy from a baby. \" Shari drawled as she looked up from her dissected sausage. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult.
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