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Mad Rogan stepped close to me, his big body too near, the look in his eyes too heated. I smelled a hint of sandalwood and vetiver, mixed with an almost harsh, peppery scent. He bent down, arresting, his eyes so blue. My heart beat faster. He smiled a slow, predatory grin. “Resistance is futile.” “You are not assimilating me.” I stood my ground and raised the phone to my ear.
