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... r—something slow and honeyed, all brushed snare and upright bass. Around them, couples drifted toward the dance floor, silhouettes merging under the lantern glow.
Chloe’s fingers tapped against Ryan’s wrist, a silent question.
He groaned. "Don’t make me relive the Crown Hotel disaster."
Chloe remembered the way he’d once stepped on her toes and couldn’t help but laugh.
Ryan kept up the banter, but his actions betrayed him—he was leading her toward the dance floor, ...
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