Leslie LaRue

52%
Flag icon
“She never felt me hold her. She must’ve been frightened . . . and alone . . .” “You held her,” he whispered. “You held her inside your body. She wasn’t frightened, my angel. Not while she felt the strength of your love. And you must believe me, for who knows the strength of that love better than I do?”
My Dear Hamilton
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview