” “You have not answered my question,” he reminded her. At least for one moment, it was. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. Wood to a seat within it, immediately pushed from land. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his.
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