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... d at the base of the grand staircase, a tall, unmoving figure of masculine impatience. He was dressed in perfect, severe black evening wear, the white of his cravat stark against his tan skin. As Ines’s foot touched the top step, he snapped open the gold pocket watch in his hand.

CLICK.

"We are twenty minutes late, Ines."

His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the foyer. He snapped the watch shut and slipped it back into his waistcoat pocket, his eyes never leaving her ...

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