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Caleb is leaning against the wall, intently watching Dr. Bailey's every move. Tension radiates from him, and even Dr. Bailey can feel it, every now and then glancing at him for approval before touching me. And every time, Caleb barely gives him a strained nod, as if that small acquiesce costs him everything.
"You make it very hard for me to be a gentleman, Darcy. But that's what you want, do you not? A proper, virtuous, boring gentleman." "Doesn't everyone want that?" I counter in a soft voice—one that doesn't seem convincing even to my ears. "That's what you think you want, darlin'," he drawls, his voice a combination of decadence wrapped in seduction. "But I know what you need."
"What if I told you that you're my entire reason for being? That you're why I wake up in the morning. Every goddamn day from the dawn of time until now. What if I told you that you belong to me in a way no woman ever belonged to a man? That I might be evil personified, but you're the only one I'll ever be good to,"
"We made it," I echo. "We're finally free."