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THIRTY-EIGHT

Clarissa felt her body shake in ways she couldn’t describe. Being in Archer’s arms was exhilarating. The most intense was the way he looked at her. She felt like she was the only one in the room.

He swirled her around, and she leaned in closer at the end of it all. Something in her head made her wish he would kiss her. Despite his temper which was right, she wanted him to claim her, and make her his without a second thought.

The thought stunned her, as she rose in the air in a sort of choreography. Archer looked completely immaculate and the intensity of his gaze didn’t seem to waver even for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled when her legs touched the floor, and she held his shoulders in a firm grip as they kept swaying to the beat.

He angled his head sideways. “Why are you sorry?” He asked softly.

“I stupidly left the party because I felt like there was no one I knew here, and I was feeling suffocated. I shouldn’t have done that,” she said quietly.

He swirled her around once more, a
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