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Drawn to the enemy

Inside the car, Maxwell drove in thoughtful silence. Naya thought about letting him ramble on, but she was too anxious.

“What does he expect me to buy?”

Maxwell looked at her, as if only at that moment did he realize that he wasn't alone.

“What do you want to wear to your wedding?”

Naya frowned.

“I'm getting married in the Lunas' dress. He's a werewolf, he should know that this dress doesn't tear or age, and can only be worn by the Lunas.”

“I hope you plan to wash it. Adam hates the smell of mothballs.”

Naya's face turned red.

“If that's what he wanted me to buy...”

“I imagine you must have clothes... Intimate, better and more... Current than that dress you're wearing.”

“Oh!” Naya felt her face burn even more with embarrassment. He was talking to her about sexy nightgowns. That was embarrassing.

“My mom made my trousseau.”

“Oh my God! Are you going to wear clothes like this dress, which was probably your mother's choice, on your wedding night? Better not wear
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