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He shattered my defenses, and I was fragile to begin with . . .
The first time I saw Adam Black, I was between the arms of a criminal, a gun to my throat, and even then, I knew I was staring at the most dangerous man in the room.
Maybe it was his confident, cerulean eyes, or the sex appeal radiating from his pores like heat waves on a scorching day, but by proximity alone, he made my vision blur and my heart stammer.
The day I was nearly killed in a bank hold-up, I began to live—because of him.
Now, I’m praying for the first time in years, hoping the scars of my past, the secrets I keep, don’t interfere with my future . . .
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