The Billionaire's Marriage Mission

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The Billionaire's Marriage Mission
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Helen Brooks
THE BILLIONAIRE’S
MARRIAGE MISSION



MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

AS THE DOOR CLICKED gently shut behind her the quiet sound registered with all the force of a thunderclap on Beth Marton’s ears. For a second she froze, unbelieving; then she turned, gingerly pushing against the unyielding wood. Of course it didn’t budge—but then it wouldn’t with the latch having sprung shut.

‘Oh, no, no.’ Beth pushed again, harder this time, even as she told herself it was pointless. She was locked out. If she had been standing outside her flat in London that wouldn’t have mattered. There were at least a couple of neighbours always around that she could have called on in the block in which the flat was situated, and one of them could have telephoned her sister who had a spare key for emergencies. But this was not London…

She glanced somewhat wildly about her, vitally aware she was clad in nothing but bubblegum-pink silk pyjamas with spaghetti shoulder straps. The dark windy night was not encouraging. And rain was forecast.

When a cold nose nudged one hand she glanced down at the big dog who was surveying her with impatient eyes. ‘I know, I know,’ she muttered. ‘We’re out here and your dinner’s in there, but it was you who insisted you needed the loo a minute ago.’

And it was her who had followed Harvey outside with the torch so she could make sure he didn’t disappear into the blackness. Which was doubly daft in hindsight, considering he knew it was dinner time—Harvey’s favourite moment of the day—and also that there was nowhere he could really go. The garden surrounding the little cottage she was renting was all neatly fenced.

A gust of wind brought the smell of smoke on the air, reminding Beth she had lit the fire in the sitting room a few minutes before. And the guard wasn’t in front of it but standing to one side of the slate hearth.

Panicking now, she scurried round the outside of the cottage to see if any of the windows just might be on the latch, although she doubted it. When she had arrived at the place half an hour ago, travel weary after a journey she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy but hugely relieved to have found the isolated building in the dark, everything had appeared shuttered and closed. After retrieving the front door key which had been hidden under a plant pot as the agent had told her, she had lugged all her stuff inside, only stopping to bung perishable food into the little fridge before she had stripped off for a wonderfully welcome shower.

Once the stickiness of the tortuous journey—which had consisted of traffic jam after traffic jam—had been removed she hadn’t been able to face the thought of dressing again, and so had pulled on her pyjamas before opening a bottle of wine and lighting the fire. Harvey’s enormous basket established in a handy corner, and a tin of his favourite food open in the tiny cottage kitchen, she’d been about to feed him when he’d made it plain he needed to be let outside for a moment.

‘Ow!’ As she slipped on something squelchy and ended up on her bottom in something which smelt utterly disgusting, her eyeballs rattled with the jolt to her system. The urge to cry was suddenly and very childishly paramount, but instead she recovered the torch which had fallen out of her hand and struggled to her feet. Harvey seemed to have quite forgotten about his dinner and was entering into this new game with gusto, jumping about her and barking delightedly. He’d found the long journey from London to Shropshire boring but this was altogether more like it.

Thankfully the torch still worked, but Beth didn’t need its light to tell her a fox or badger obviously skulked about the cottage garden at night. The smell on her pyjamas and fluffy mules did the job more than adequately.

Walking round the building to the front door again, she stood for a moment, shivering in the cold May night. The day itself had been quite warm, too warm in view of the hours spent stuck unmoving in traffic, but the night air had a bite to it which said summer wasn’t quite round the corner yet.

She would have to smash a window and climb in somehow; there was nothing else for it. Beth gazed at the beautiful old leaded lights in the sitting room windows. All the glass was the same, and when she had drawn up earlier and admired the mullioned effect she had thought then they must be quite valuable. The cottage was tiny and chocolate boxy, complete with thatched roof, wooden beams throughout and all the charm one would expect considering it was a couple of centuries old. But charm didn’t help her right at this minute.

Harvey’s stomach was rumbling and the game had lost its appeal. He began to whine and when an enormous long-haired German shepherd dog whined it wasn’t the same as a poodle. Beth couldn’t hear herself think. ‘All right, all right.’ She shushed him with a click of her fingers. She was going to do a considerable amount of damage if she smashed one of these lovely old windows but she couldn’t think of any other course of action. As far as she could recall, she hadn’t passed another dwelling place for some miles once she had turned into the long lane which had eventually led to the cottage. Besides which, she was hardly dressed to go tramping round the Shropshire countryside.

She shone the torch on the window as she pressed the glass. Each window was stone mullioned and the leaded lights appeared to be supported by steel bars behind them. She wasn’t even sure she could climb in if she did manage to break the glass. Of course she could smash one of her car windows but she’d freeze to death in there tonight, and in the morning she’d still have the same problem, her car keys and everything else being in the cottage.

‘Oh, Harvey.’ The urge to cry was back. This, on top of everything else that had happened lately was too much. Why, when she was trying to pick herself up and sort herself out, was she hampered at every turn? It just wasn’t fair. She sniffed miserably and Harvey, now sensing all was not well, pressed protectively against her legs. She plumped down on the doorstep and put her arms round the shaggy neck, tears running down her cheeks. And it was like that, huddled into the warm animal fur, that she first noticed moving lights on the hillside.

Someone was driving down the lane leading to the cottage!

Jumping up, she dashed past her car and the small area of lawn which made up the front garden and opened the big swing gate, holding Harvey’s leather collar as she waited for whoever it was to reach them. She shone the torch anxiously into the road, hoping the vehicle owner wouldn’t just drive straight past. It wasn’t as if she looked as though she might be a dangerous mugger or something, she reasoned frantically, not in her pyjamas. But for that same reason she wanted any potential rescuer to see Harvey and know she had the sort of guard dog it wasn’t wise to ignore. You heard such horrible things these days about women being attacked when they asked strangers for help.

It seemed an eternity before the car reached them but it could only have been a minute or two. Then brilliant headlights lit up the darkness, swallowing the meagre light from the torch. A large estate car swept by before Beth could blink. For an awful moment she thought the driver hadn’t noticed them standing on the grass verge, but then she heard the screech of brakes after the car had disappeared from view round a bend in the road. A few seconds later it reversed and came to a stop at the side of them.

The window wound down and a deep male voice, in tones of mingled amazement and amusement, drawled, ‘What the dickens are you doing out here dressed like that?’

Enjoying myself? For a moment she almost let her tongue rule her brain before logic told her she had to get this guy on her side, whoever he was. Biting back the caustic retort which had sprung to her lips, she said evenly, ‘I appear to have locked myself out when I was seeing to my dog. I don’t suppose you’ve got anything in the car I could force the door with?’ She swung the torch in the direction of his face as she spoke and saw him flinch as the bright light hit his eyes. ‘Sorry.’ She lowered it immediately but the brief glimpse had been enough to tell her the man was dark-haired and youngish; beyond that she hadn’t been able to see.

‘You’re asking me to do a bit of breaking and entering?’

 

Amusement was definitely paramount now and Beth had to take a deep breath before she could say sweetly, ‘I suppose so, yes. Can you help?’ She was shivering from head to foot and in a minute her teeth would being to chatter, and this clown found the situation funny. The unfeeling so-and-so.

‘You’re cold.’

She hoped it was her shaking he had noticed and not the way her nipples were standing out like chapel hat pegs against the thin silk of her pyjama top. Not that she could do anything about it; she couldn’t even cross her arms over her chest with one hand holding Harvey’s collar and the other clutching the torch. ‘A bit,’ she said steadily. ‘Which is why I’d like to get back in as soon as possible.’

The engine was turned off and the driver’s door opened, a big figure uncurling itself from the dark depths of the vehicle. The next moment she was being handed a bulky jacket which must have been on the passenger seat beside him. ‘Here, put this on,’ he said easily, glancing down at Harvey who had begun a low rumbling growl in the back of his throat.

Beth didn’t try to stop the dog; in fact she made a mental note to give him an extra handful of his favourite biscuits once they were inside. The man was tall—very tall—and intimidatingly broad-shouldered and muscular from what she could ascertain in the dim light. She didn’t like to shine the torch up into his face again to get a good look at him but she was feeling distinctly nervous, being so scantily clad.

The next moment the stranger crouched down so that his head was in line with Harvey’s powerful jaws, his voice relaxed and soothing as he said, ‘Steady, boy. No one’s going to harm your mistress,’ and offered a hand for the dog to sniff.

There was a brief pause and then the rumbling stopped and a large pink tongue licked the man’s hand as Harvey’s tail wagged a greeting. Beth wondered if Harvey would look quite so pleased with himself if he knew he’d just blown the extra biscuits.

‘Nice dog.’ The man stood up and stretched out a hand, saying, ‘Give me the torch while you put the coat on.’

Beth didn’t see any point in arguing. If he was going to hit her over the head with something and have his wicked way with her, it might as well be the torch as anything else. Clearly Harvey was going to be no help whatsoever.

The man pushed past her and walked to the cottage door as she slipped the jacket on. It drowned her, but right at this moment that was very welcome. She followed him, Harvey trotting at her side, and watched as he first tried the door and then walked round the building checking each window as she’d done. Of course he didn’t end up sitting in fox or badger dung.

When he re-emerged from the back of the cottage Beth said a little testily, ‘I’d already tried all the windows.’

He didn’t comment on this. What he did say was, ‘What’s that terrible smell? Raw sewage?’

‘I slipped over at the back of the house. I think an animal had been there.’

‘And how.’ He didn’t bother to try to hide his amusement.

She wasn’t about to stand in the wind and cold discussing how she smelt. And he hadn’t exactly been a gentleman to mention it in the first place. ‘So, can you get me in?’ she asked shortly. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

‘Probably, but I don’t intend to. There’s no point in forcing the door or a window and causing a considerable amount of damage when you can contact the agent in the morning and ask them to call by. This place is rented by Turner & Turner, isn’t it? The local estate agent?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘So I suggest you come back to my place and get a good night’s sleep and we’ll sort it in the morning. You haven’t got anything on the stove in there, have you? Nothing’s going to cause a problem?’

Was he mad? She would no more think of going back to ‘his place’ than flying to the moon. Stiffly now, Beth said, ‘I lit a fire. I can’t leave it.’

‘You already have,’ he pointed out silkily.

‘The guard wasn’t in front of it.’

‘There’s hardly any smoke coming out of the chimney so it’s probably dying out already. It’ll be all right.’

So now he was an expert on fires? ‘I can’t possibly just walk away; you must see that?’

‘Of course you can.’ The comment about the estate agent had told her he must be a local, and this was confirmed now when he added, ‘I know John Turner; I’ll call him myself in the morning and explain the situation. You’ll be back in by ten o’clock. He’d prefer that than breaking and entering, I’m sure.’

She didn’t want to be back in by ten o’clock, she wanted to be back in now. ‘If you know him, can’t you phone now?’

She could see the silhouette of his head shaking as he said, ‘No can do. Friday night is John’s snooker night with the lads. Nothing gets in the way of that.’

This was absolutely ridiculous. ‘I couldn’t possibly go home with you, Mr…?’

‘Black. Travis Black. Why couldn’t you come home with me, Miss…?’

‘My name’s Beth Marton and I’m not in the habit of accepting overnight accommodation with complete strangers,’ she said tightly, refusing to acknowledge Harvey, who had set himself down at the side of Travis Black for all the world as though he was his dog instead of hers. The traitor.

‘We’re not strangers, we’ve introduced ourselves.’ It was lazy and the amusement was back tenfold. ‘And rest assured I’m not so desperate for female company that I’ve seized on your unfortunate predicament with rape and pillage in mind. It’s a genuine offer; you’ll sleep alone, especially in view of that…unusual scent you’re wearing.’

Swine. Dignity was hellishly difficult in view of the pink silk pyjamas and the smell, but Beth made a stab at it as she said crisply, ‘Thank you for the offer but I couldn’t, Mr Black. There’s Harvey, for one thing.’

‘I wasn’t proposing you tie him up and leave him here. Of course he comes too.’ He turned at this point, beginning to walk back to his car. ‘Still, it’s up to you.’

‘Where are you going?’ Beth knew her voice was too shrill but she couldn’t help it. He wasn’t going to just leave her here, was he? No one would be so hard-hearted…would they?

‘Home.’ He didn’t bother to turn round. ‘It’s late and it’s been a long day. I’m hungry, tired and it’s beginning to rain. You can come with me or stay here—it’s up to you.’

She didn’t move until he had actually seated himself in the car; she couldn’t quite believe he was just going to drive off. When he started the engine she admitted defeat, especially with the few spots of rain turning into a steady downpour.

She hurried across the garden to the gate, Harvey bounding at her heels, and tapped on the driver’s window. It lowered. This time she kept the light just clear of his eyes but allowed the torch to give her a clear view of his face. It was an interesting face. Not handsome exactly—it was too rugged for that and the bright light showed up a scar on one chiselled cheekbone, but it had something which would make any red-blooded woman take a second glance. His hair was ebony-black but she couldn’t determine the colour of his eyes with the brightness of the light distorting everything.

‘I can’t stay out here all night,’ she muttered. ‘There might not be anyone else pass by.’

‘Sure fire bet,’ he agreed pleasantly. ‘My house is the only other building along here and the lane finishes at my front garden.’

And he had just been going to drive off knowing that? ‘Where do I put Harvey?’ she asked stiffly.

In reply he got out of the car and opened the back of the estate. Harvey jumped in and settled on the big blanket there as though he had been doing it all his life. Beth glared at the animal as Travis pulled the door down. He then walked round the vehicle and opened the passenger door for her without saying a word, but she just knew he was smiling inside.

She slid in. ‘Thank you.’ It was said through gritted teeth.

‘My pleasure.’ He closed the door very gently.

Once he had joined her in the car she became even more aware of the height and breadth of him and felt all the more vulnerable because of it. She also became rather more aware of the truly disgusting smell emanating from her clothes. ‘I hope I don’t spoil the seat,’ she said in a small voice as the car began to move. She had noticed the car was a top of the range Mercedes Estate. She bet it was the first time the beautiful interior had been subjected to such abuse.

‘It’s leather; it’ll sponge down if necessary. Once we get to my place you can have a shower and I’ll sort out something clean for you to put on. It won’t be pink, though,’ he added, deadpan.

‘Not your colour?’ Beth asked in the same tone.

‘Clashes with my eyes.’ He grinned without looking at her.

‘Right.’ He was trying to put her at her ease. And, she reminded herself, he was providing a roof over her head for the night and if he hadn’t come along she would have been in a real fix. ‘This is very kind of you,’ she said belatedly.

‘That’s me all over. Orphans, strays, lost sheep…’

‘Yeah, right.’ He was joking but the way she was feeling it was a little too near the mark. Beth forced all emotion out of her voice as she said, ‘If yours is the only place on this road I was lucky you came along.’

‘Especially as I don’t live here all the time. I mostly work and live in Bristol.’

‘Oh, yes?’ She glanced at the hard profile. ‘What do you do?’ He wasn’t the type of man you could easily pin a label on.

‘Industrial design.’

That covered a thousand and one possible avenues, but as his voice had been dismissive Beth didn’t like to ask what he specialised in. Instead she said, ‘So your home here is a sort of weekend place?’

‘More of a bolt-hole,’ he said shortly. ‘And you? Do you work?’

She nodded. ‘Although I’m taking a break for a while. I’m an architect.’

She waited for the surprise which normally—and, as far as Beth was concerned, unflatteringly—followed this statement when she was talking to a man socially. As far as the male race seemed to think, the fact that she was slender and finely boned with honey-blonde hair and big blue eyes precluded her from having a profession which involved visiting construction sites and dealing with builders, among other things. The least of the offenders usually attempted to hide their amazement and say something like, ‘Really? How interesting,’ as they eyed her up and down blankly. The worst guffawed and said they didn’t believe it.

Travis merely nodded. ‘Work for a practice or local authority, or freelance?’

‘A practice. They’re holding my job for six months.’

She’d anticipated more questions but when none were forthcoming settled more easily into her seat, having become aware she was holding herself as taut as piano wire. The trees either side of the narrow lane formed a canopy overhead and the night was pitch black, the car’s powerful headlights cutting through the darkness but somehow emphasising the loneliness of her surroundings. Her stomach kept flipping over like a pancake on Shrove Tuesday.

And then suddenly there were massive gates in front of them which Travis opened by remote control within the car. They drove through on to a pebbled drive and almost immediately the vista opened up and Beth saw a large house a hundred yards or so in the distance.

She didn’t know what she had been expecting—probably a cottage similar to the one she was renting or something a little bigger—but it wasn’t this mansion of a place in what was virtually a small park. She glanced at Travis—a quick look—but his eyes were on the windscreen. As bolt-holes went, this certainly wasn’t the norm. Mind you, she was beginning to think Travis wasn’t exactly the norm either, she thought ruefully.

Well-tended landscaped grounds stretched either side of the winding drive, and by the time they drew up in the horseshoe-shaped pebbled area in front of the house Beth had to admit privately to being somewhat overawed. Even if she had been dressed to the nines and perfectly coiffured she’d have felt a bit intimidated, she told herself silently. As it was…

Her thoughts made it all the more incongruous when Travis exited the car and walked round the bonnet to help her out of the vehicle as though they were on a date or something. She tried to be as graceful and dignified as present circumstances allowed—which wasn’t saying much.

Outside lights situated at the front of the house had clicked on automatically as they’d arrived, but, flustered as she was, Beth had been concentrating on the absurdity of her situation rather than anything else. Now, as she slid out of the Mercedes with his warm hand supporting her, she looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time. A little bolt of electricity caused her breath to catch in her throat. Grey, she thought inconsequentially. His eyes are grey.

 

‘What’s the name of your dog?’

‘What?’ The cool voice had registered but her scrambled brain hadn’t been able to compute.

‘Your dog?’ he repeated patiently.

She became aware of the barking. Harvey was taking exception to being stuck in the vehicle when they were outside. ‘Oh, Harvey. His name’s Harvey.’

‘I suggest you get ready to reassure him. He’ll be meeting my dogs in a moment and I’d prefer him to be friendly.’

The slight hiccup in her thought processes caused by the piercing quality of the deep grey eyes fringed by spiky black lashes evaporated. ‘Harvey is always friendly,’ she said tightly before she realised it didn’t exactly reaffirm his guard dog persona.

‘Good. Sheba and Sky aren’t.’

The next moment he had opened the back of the estate car and Harvey had jumped down and, before she could ask him what he’d meant, he was turning the key in the lock of the front door. Immediately two grizzly bears—or that was what they looked like to Beth—bounded on to the drive.

There was a tense moment or two, on Beth’s side, while the two dogs circled Harvey, but his wagging tail and lolling grin didn’t falter. Within seconds the three dogs were inspecting each other’s rear ends and introducing themselves. Beth sighed with relief. ‘They’re lovely,’ she said unconvincingly, keeping her eye on the dogs in case they suddenly decided to go cannibal and give Harvey a hard time. ‘What are they?’

‘Apart from being female, I haven’t a clue,’ Travis said easily, clicking his fingers, at which signal both dogs shot to his side and sat down. ‘They were dumped by the side of a road in a cardboard box at five or six weeks old. A friend of mine saw the incident and something made him go back and look inside the box. The vet reckons there’s a number of breeds in there, but who’s counting?’

Whatever their pedigree, Harvey seemed to find the two dogs attractive. Beth noticed he’d gone into macho man mode as he sauntered up to Travis and leered at the two females.

As they entered the house Beth’s first impression was one of space and mellow wood. The large hall was oak floored, as was the wide curving staircase which led to a galleried first floor. The walls were light with several modern paintings providing vivid splashes of colour, and just a small oak table, either side of which stood two upholstered hardbacked chairs, broke the clean lines.

‘I’m sure you’d like to shower and change while I feed the dogs. Has Harvey been fed yet?’ Travis was walking to the staircase as he spoke and his dogs stopped at the foot of it. Presumably they weren’t allowed upstairs.

‘No, he hasn’t. I was just about to give him his food when we got locked out.’ Beth followed Travis up the stairs after telling Harvey to stay. He made no objection, plonking himself firmly in the middle of the two females, where he appeared quite content. So much for the guard dog routine.

The oak floor continued along the galleried landing and, after leaning over to make sure Harvey was still behaving himself, Beth joined Travis where he was standing by an open bedroom door. ‘You’ll find some T-shirts and jogging bottoms in the wardrobe and a guest robe behind the bathroom door,’ he said easily. ‘Make yourself at home. There’s plenty of hot water. When you’re ready, come downstairs and find me in the kitchen. Do you like spaghetti Bolognese?’

‘What? Oh, yes. Yes, thank you.’ Terribly flustered, Beth stepped into the ankle-deep cream carpet of what was obviously a guest room and Travis shut the door behind her, leaving her alone. She gazed around her. The coffee and cream room had definitely been decorated and furnished by someone with minimalist taste, but it was beautiful. She suspected the whole house would be beautiful.

Gingerly, as though she was going to leave a trail of dirt and destruction, she made her way over to the open door of the en suite bathroom, which reflected the colours of the bedroom, and peered into the huge mirror stretching over a pair of basins.

She groaned out loud at the reflection staring back at her. Not only were her pyjamas and slippers the worse for wear, but a large smear of mud—at least she hoped it was merely mud and not what she’d slipped in—had deposited itself on the side of her face. Her hair had dried in a tangled riot in the wind and her make-up free face was shiny where it wasn’t filthy. She looked like something the cat wouldn’t deign to drag in. Not even if it was desperate.

Ten minutes later she felt more like herself. She had found face and body lotion along with shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom cabinet, and once she was clean, moisturised and sweet-smelling everything didn’t seem so bad. After blow-drying her hair into its normal silky shoulder-length bob, she found some women’s T-shirts and jogging bottoms neatly folded in a drawer in the otherwise empty wardrobe. Fleetingly she wondered who they belonged to. His girlfriend, maybe? she thought as she put her own things in water.

Right, time to face him again. She padded downstairs in bare feet, aware that her stomach was jumping with trepidation, which was daft, really daft, but she didn’t seem able to help it.

Once in the hall, she stared about her. Travis had said she should join him in the kitchen but there were several doors leading off the expanse in front of her. Assuming the kitchen was probably at the back of the house, she made her way down the hall towards the furthest door and knocked nervously before she opened it. ‘Hello, it’s me,’ she said unnecessarily.

‘Hi.’ Travis was stirring something on the stove, the three dogs lying at his feet, apparently replete and content. Harvey wagged his tail at the sight of her but didn’t bother to get up. ‘Grab a seat,’ Travis continued, ‘and pour yourself a glass of wine.’

She was conscious of one piercingly thorough glance before he turned back to the stove. That, and the sight of the big powerful body clothed in a black cotton shirt, open at the neck, and black denim jeans was enough to make her all fingers and thumbs as she sat down at the big farmhouse-style kitchen table and reached for the open bottle of wine.

Large though the table was, it was swallowed by the roomy capaciousness of the kitchen. The stone-flagged floor, honey-coloured wooden cupboards and granite work surfaces looked like a blending of old with new but it was very pleasing to the eye. The wine was very pleasing to the tastebuds. Deep red and with aromas of blackcurrant and cherry, Beth found it steadied her nerves nicely.

After several sips she was sufficiently calm to say evenly, ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Not a thing. It’s ready.’ Within a moment he had whisked two plates of spaghetti Bolognese over to the table along with a dish of lightly roasted vegetables. Beth’s mouth watered. As Travis sat down he said matter-of-factly, ‘You clean up nicely. More than nicely.’

‘Thank you.’ She knew she had turned an unflattering shade of red and it was annoying. It wasn’t as though she was a stranger to compliments from the male of the species; it was just that this particular male was altogether…disturbing. Which was the last thing in the world she needed right now. ‘And thanks for feeding us,’ she added, indicating Harvey with a wave of her hand. ‘I really didn’t intend to put you to so much trouble when I waved you down earlier,’ she finished primly.

The grey eyes surveyed her expressionlessly. In the bright light of the kitchen his face was rugged and attractive, full of very sharply defined planes and angles which the scar down one cheek heightened. His nose was straight, his thick brows and eyelashes the same coal black as his hair, and his mouth was sexy. This last thought was unwelcome but it was true. Travis Black exuded a cynical kind of sexiness that was overwhelmingly magnetic and Beth felt her toes curl with the force of it.

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