Something about Italy? Sam stepped slowly backwards, keeping his eyeon the door, remembering its location for future reference. Now wasn?tthe time. ...He would have to try and get in there when no-one wasaround.Sam hurried the rest of the way to his room on the lower deck, hisbreasts swaying beneath his robe, his ponytail swishing from side toside. He felt proud of himself. He?d actually gone and done somethinguseful.He opened the door to his room, eager to think and plan about his nextmove. It was an irrational hate. She’d never truly been in his presence for more than a moment or two. Just knowing he was to be her husband – that she had no choice in the matter – was enough, though.“A moment,” she called to her brother. She had to say something, or he’d continue to knock until it brought her parents. She certainly didn’t want to see them until later. Preferably, much later.She laced and tied the neckpiece angrily. She knew it was likely to be another hot day and she felt she’d. More

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