“The first time he had ever personalised her so much as to call her by her given name rather than thinking of her as Alfredo Medrano’s daughter, or the more sarcastic Doña Medrano. Or the woman he had been expected to ask to marry him. It was a shock. A real slap-in-the-face, punch-in-the-guts shock. Had he really not ever seen the person in this woman? He had kissed her, dreamed of her, fantasised about her— but had he ever really and truly seen her? Now she had frozen, still facing the door, t...urned away from him. All he could see was her tall, slender back, the curving hips and long legs. There was the silken fall of her jet-black hair. But he couldn’t see her face. Had he really ever seen her face? Had he really ever seen her? Who was Estrella Medrano? Who was this woman he had practically been ordered to marry—so arrogantly, so autocratically that he had been set against her from the start? ‘Don’t go,’ he repeated, more firmly this time. ‘Don’t walk out like this.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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