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... nly sounds were those made by the wind rustling the trees, echoing continuously.
Cressida Jones seemed to hear her own heartbeat, like a drum, rapid and chaotic, ultimately dissolving into nothingness as Tim Payne suddenly bent over and lowered his head...
After all, he had drunk some wine and couldn’t control his actions. His lips accidentally brushed past her ear.
"Cressida," his voice sounded like it was rubbed with sand, low and magnetic.
"Hmm?"
"Are y ...
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