She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder. ” “A—what?” Anna asked. She received into her slack grasp the pistol and dagger, only half aware of taking them. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. .
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