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It was the way she carried herself, like she’d seen it all—the good, the bad, the downright ugly—and still believed in goodness.
I hadn’t thought collarbones could be sexy, but here we were.
Dark eyes. Bronze skin. Red lips. All smiles and sunshine, unaware she’d walked into a pit of vipers. A goddess entering the gates of hell, and she didn’t even know it.
how was I supposed to tell the man determined to save me that I didn’t want to be saved?
