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SILK WICKEDNESS 24

‘So was I.’

'What? The T-shirt didn’t even make it over her head. It froze halfway and resumed temporary thigh-to-cleavage cover.

‘I fell asleep. Crashed. Out for the count.*

Why on earth didn't I guess? I was shattered enough to crash out, and I wasn't even driving.

‘Then I’m glad I didn’t ring and wake you. You obviously needed it.’

‘I should have set the alarm.’ His voice was no longer exasperated. Its edges had softened, like bitter chocolate in the sun. ‘Do you want a written apology, or shall I just grovel?’

He added that little half-smile that would have melted anybody, and she was duly melted. Or perhaps woozed would have been more accurate. ‘No grovelling will be necessary,’ she said lightly. ‘It was a tiring day.’

‘In more ways than one.’

‘Hard on the feet.’

‘And the patience.’

‘Especially the patience.’

For several long seconds, this verbal ping-pong ceased. Only their eyes spoke in the dark.

‘How’s your cat?’

‘Still with us. Just about.’

‘I’m glad.’ His voice was like that
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