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The heavy furs were kicked off the edge of the mattress, the crisp linen sheets were wrinkled and twisted into knots, and the air was thick with the lingering, heavy scent of pine, and sweat.
The morning sun filtered through the thick wooden shutters, casting thin, golden stripes across the floorboards.
In the center of the massive bed, Roxy was dead to the world. She lay on her stomach, her dark hair splayed wildly across the pillows in a tangled halo, her breathing deep ...
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