’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. He frowned. She had to have him, her body was going crazy for the want of sex.
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