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Why had he brought her home?

He’d known it was a mistake. It was just that for a second he’d been overcome by a protective streak he couldn’t explain, one he didn’t even like. Rescuing women was a fool’s errand—he’d done it once, and he wasn’t going to do it again. He glanced back at Megan, and the memory of holding her swamped him—the soft, yielding quality of her body, the smell of her hair. She was so beautiful. Was that it?

No, it wasn’t just her current vulnerability that attracted him. It wasn’t just her big blue eyes or her body, either. Those things were distractions, sure, but distractions that were relatively easy to dismiss. After all, there were lots of pretty and needy women in the world.

What Megan possessed was far more dangerous. To his resolve. To his heart.

But he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her ...

Wife On His Doorstep

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