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Chapter 25

Steel spoons and glass dishes cranked in the Italian murmurs. Servants ushered quietly around the dining, filling the already flowing plates with scrumptious dishes. Apart from sloshing of colored liquid in red wine glasses, suppressed chuckles of gossiping women and, sincere discussion among men, nothing seemed important in the room. Tara couldn't help but not care. Not that she still didn't understand Italian, she didn't want to. It was way better to not know things. The language barrier certainly was a blessing. She was never expected to take part in conversations. She couldn't be more glad for being excluded from their family chit chats. But as much as she wanted to, Donavan didn't leave her alone.

Ever since their arrival, Donavan had not been hesitant about carrying his wife. His hand had barely left her small waist, carrying her everywhere like a protective gentleman. It tingled when his hand tightened around her waist and she found it strange, strange how he wanted to show her
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