It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. Perhaps you will meet him someday. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. ” She wanted to feast upon him badly, his passion, his youthfulness.
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