“Does the public dungeon intrigue you?”
A male voice, thick and rich as honeyed molasses shivered down her spine. When Claire attempted to turn, he pressed into her back, nestling his face against her neck so that only a whisper separated his lips from the shell of her ear.
Power buffeted her but didn’t smother and rather than drowning, Claire felt swaddled in the absolute security of this man. When she inhaled to speak, the clean scent of soap and fresh air filled her nose. “Yes.”
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