The merchant swears before looking up to identify the culprit. I fight the urge to break the man’s jaw when his gaze softens with each second spent greedily running his eyes over her. “My fault, miss,” he says silkily, moving to brace a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right? That was quite the tumble.” “Much better now, thank you.” My eyes roll involuntarily. She bends to pick up the pile of skirts before placing them back onto his cart. “I’m just so embarrassed!” “No need to be, my dear.” His hand is back on her shoulder, and I’m considering breaking it. “Say, if yer not busy right now—”
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