He felt he would have sold his soul for a look at New York; hell, he would have sold it for one deep lung-filling breath of Forty-second Street at rush hour. “And now,” Lengyll said, “we’ll toast your arrival proper. Known for six Baronies around, it is, and can’t be copied. They didn’t send these brats here to discover your secrets, Rimer; folks such as these don’t send their babbies into danger on purpose.
And when she touched them, the heat between her legs flared suddenly and urgently. He reeled a little, then stood firm as he was handcuffed. Oh, she had seen a lot of Hart Thorin over the years, and he had seen a lot of her, as well. The crime had come home to them because of a certain item—a bird’s skull—left in Mayor Thorin’s lap.
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