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“Show me,” he said softly. And before she could let herself think of what he meant—if he meant for her to go to her knees—if he wanted her to touch him—if she would expire on the spot if he touched her back—he said, “Show me the memory.” Briony blinked at him. And as she stared into his gray eyes, she felt the pinprick of a mind asking for entrance into her own.
