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Why was it that seven years after the affair, Anastasia Douglas was still his go-to ht release?

Why did he re coffee when he had hundreds, if not thousands, of more important memories to recall?

Double shot, black, with one sugar, and hot enough to burn

Her hair, a tousled black cloud that framed exquisite bone structure as she purred her content black liquid to cool it before setting it to her lips

He hadn’t been the only hedonist in their short-lived relationship The things she could do with her mouth…

He shivered and it wasn’t just because of the cool dawn air

There’d been soht he’d reater than usual abandon He’d made the first move, used every bit of charh they’d ended up naked in her tiny student apartht and instead of leaving the nexthis back on everything but her Learning her Loving her Ra no resistance

He’d hts and infiltrated her days

They’d lain on the grass in a tiny gated park with his face to the sun and Ana’s head on his hip as she read Russian poetry to hilish She’d been equally fluent in both languages, or so she’d said—courtesy of her Russian lish father—but the results of her translations had been confusing

Russian poetry was never ed the question as to why she was atte the impossible in the first place

She wanted to be an interpreter, she’d said Maybe for the European Parliament, maybe for the United Nations Secretariat, and to do that she had to be the best of the best She was practising