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... sal.
Holly had no choice but to bend down and take a seat.
The cool evening breeze swept through, lifting her hair and brushing against Blake Sinclair’s wrist, only to vanish quickly.
The touch in that moment was so light it felt like an illusion.
Blake Sinclair’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, and the fingers resting on the door handle gently tightened.
Without a word, he closed the door and moved around to the driver’s seat.
"Do you want Chinese or ...
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