“You are being presumptuous. Perhaps I intend some trickery that involves buying you tea.” Devon took a step toward her. “Will you poison it?” “I might,” she said, lifting her chin and absolutely refusing to retreat. He set a finger beneath the rim of the umbrella, tilting it back. His eyes were full of dangerous promises as he looked down at her unblinkingly. “I might push you into the water,” he said. Hot sparks went through her. “I might get you a croissant along with the tea,” she countered. His mouth twitched. “I might tie you up, gag you, and put you on the next train to Istanbul.” The
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