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... box of velvet and tension.
The horses lurched forward, their hooves clattering against the cobblestones of the London street. Inside, Delaney Kingsley let out a breath she felt she had been holding for an hour.
She looked down at her feet.
One foot was clad in a sensible, soft black leather boot. The other was still clad in the burgundy satin slipper that felt like a torture device.
Rowan sat opposite her. He picks up the second black boot sitting beside her. He ...
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