She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. Melusine gritted her teeth. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth.
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