He exhaled a curse, pictured Kassandra’s raging eyes, her too-perfect smile, the heat of her hand. On him. Touching him. Fearless and hard despite the innocent brilliance she’d used to mask all her true emotions. “Kassandra…” he whispered into this space that smelled like her. Rolling his neck, he cut his fingers through his short dark hair and went to inspect the damage her perusal had caused. As far as he could tell, the woman had touched everything. His drawers. His books. His bed. She’d gone into his bathroom. Looked through his towels. It was like she’d been searching for something. But
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