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That hen she caught a glimpse of Mr Clark’s notebook She had expected a few notes, perhaps a page in some scrawled code that only he could unravel

But she saw nothing like that

She reached over the table and plucked the book frorowled

There were no words at all in his notebook--just a si of a bearded man in an office "That is exactly Peters from the Review," she breathed

"Yes" His hands twitched "I ood" Free turned the page There was a penciled drawing of a café in Edinburgh, gray clouds threatening overhead

"Of course I’ood," he told her "I’ht I have that back, or are you not done violating my privacy yet?"

"When you put it that way, then… No I aot his e "And here’s a train car" She flipped it again and then stopped The next page was her--a pencil sketch of her standing on a stool, wearing one of her favorite walking gowns, and leaning forward

She sed "Right This" She flipped the page again

But that was her, too, head bent over heraround an excla at so And the next was her, too

He reached forward and s you," he told her, his tone ht, and I do hate failing at any endeavor"

Her mouth was dry "On the contrary" She did her best not to sound shaken "They seemed…very well done, to my eye"

"Yes" His enius, after all Likely the only reason I found the drawings inadequate is the sexual attraction"

She felt her sto But no, she wasn’t looking away

"It’s rather rapple with than it is for you," he said politely, almost courteously "You see, you don’t have an abys with fire before She’d never before been teh tool; any reasonable person kept it safely locked ahen they could But this was a heat she could enjoy

She had to say so back that necessary distance between theed hiht," she heard herself say "That must be difficult for you I’m pretty brilliant myself"