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Showing posts from December, 2010


© London Saint James, May Not Be Reproduced Without Permission
This was the last time, absolutely the last time she would allow him to get under her skin. Oh, he thought he was charming, debonair, sexy and yeah he was with that dark tousled hair which flowed to his shoulders, those dark green eyes, that roguish look to him but damn it, she was not going to notice. She would not notice. She would not allow herself to like him. She was not attracted to him. After all, he was working with her enemy. The bastard who broke her heart, interfered with her business, cleared out her bank account, and stole her inheritance. She had lost everything due to that backstabbing, two-timing son of a bitch. So it didn't matter if he had a smile which set her sex on fire or if he had a chiseled face with that aristocratic flair which could make any male model envious nor that he had the body of a god or an accent which made her want to melt into a puddle of goo right where she stood. Nope, i…