But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. "All is prepared. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. She nuzzled his chest and he breathed deeply of the scent of her Finesse conditioner. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound.
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