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Chapter 48

Lucien entered his townhouse on Half Moon Street in a rage, his jaw clenched and aching. Today had been a disaster. He'd let himself lose control, get too close, and he'd enjoyed every minute of it.

If it hadn't been for those warm brown eyes of hers, pleading for his kisses

The door to the servants' quarters opened and his valet, Felix, emerged with a stack of freshly pressed white shirts in his arms.

"Felix, I'm going out tonight. Ready my things."

The valet nodded and hurried to Lucien's room. Lucien's hands twitched, feeling the urge to break something. He stormed into the drawing room and grabbed the first thing within reach, an expensive oriental vase. He arced his arm and

"I say, Lucien, you all right?"

He spied his brother, Lawrence, a few feet behind him in the open doorway. Except for the fact he was five years younger, he was a mirror image of Lucien. Anger still boiling deep inside him like a dormant volcano, Lucien now aimed the vase at his meddlesome brother.

Lawre
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