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Allen didn’t turn at first. Just stood there, cloak fluttering behind him in the after-storm wind. A monarch in stillness, a devil at rest.
“Great,” he finally said, voice casual. “If you understand.”
Then he moved. Just a small step. Then another.
He stood beside her, looking down at her Lust avatar—the tight-leather dominance, the sultry curves, the confident stance she always defaulted to. But beneath it, it was still her. Still Emma.
And he did somethin ...
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