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... ars were sparse.
In the quiet night, the sounds of the wind, running water, and two people’s breathing were in the air.
Eleanor Winslow gazed at Adrian Grant for a long time, her breath skipping a beat.
The man watched her with extreme patience, neither urging nor questioning.
Eleanor’s eyelashes trembled slightly due to her unsettled emotions, "Adrian, you..."
Her thoughts were a bit chaotic; she knew what she wanted to say, what she wanted to ask.
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