The nearest arched window poured its soft light over him, allowing me to seeevery inch. Dressed smartly in black loafers and slacks, he wore a thigh-length, blackcoat. He'd brushed his golden hair back, tucked behind his ears, and his cheeks lookedflushed, no doubt due to the bitter, evening air.He looks like an angel in the winter snow. The thought made me growl in irritation."Hello, Magpie."I couldn't move. "Adrian.
Elizabeth Morgan, Stepping Stones
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