Natasha emerged from the kitchen’s swinging door and Arthur hurtled over the counter with astonishing grace, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her deeply. After a second of stiffened surprise, Natasha melted into his arms. When at last they broke apart, Arthur bent his head and bit at her shoulder playfully. Hoots and wolf-whistles went up and down the length of the dining room. Natasha blushed like a schoolgirl, swatting at Arthur’s chest. “Go on, you,” she told him with an unconvincing attempt at sternness. “The water heater is still leaking.” He flashed her a grin that nearly made Grace
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