When he returned, it was always the same. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her.
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