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Thirty eight

Belle's POV

Damn! This room only got hotter.

Zane's presence was more than enough torture, but his gaze made me feel suffocated. Before the dance floor, Amanda's question made me curious, but he did not give a response.

I could not help but wonder if Zane was actually into those kinds of things and sort of ladies. If he was, then was he playing with me? Or was that why he said he could not love me?

I sighed as I made my way back to my seat from the dance floor. As I was about to sit, I noticed his eyes following my movements, making me hyper-aware of every move I made.

It wasn’t just his eyes, though. It was the way his hands had lingered on my waist while we danced earlier, the gentle pressure that had left an imprint on my skin long after the music had ended.

His touch had been firm, but now it felt like it was aiding his eyes in their pursuit, roaming over me in ways that made my skin tingle and my heart race.

As memories of his kisses and the way his hands had once trailed over
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