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Somehow she had managed to cleanse the blood from her hands that were folded neatly before her. The same could not be said for the rest of her uniform. The darkened jacket had been hung over the back of the chair, leaving him a clear view of a blood-splattered shirt and the shapely figure it failed to conceal.
Two voices spoke at once. One mellow and deeply masculine, the other clear and soft. ‘I’m sorry.’
They stared at each other in surprise.
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