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“I promised I’d marry her, Jock. She’s carrying our baby. Backing out wasn’t an option.”

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Ian, in decisive mode, usually turned Sophie’s legs to Jell-O and her mind to mush, but just now her brand-new groom sounded like a man who’d looked the executioner in the eye and gone under a blunt blade.

He’d lied to convince her to marry him.

She was nearly sick right there on the floor. As she slammed her hand over her mouth, Ian and Jock came around the corner. Unlike most of his overly buff colleagues, Ian was lean and long, agile and—right now—furious.

As if she’d lied to him. As if she’d married him under false pretenses.

“What are you doing?” Shock made his voice too harsh to recognize.

Swallowing, she said, “Hiding behind a marble column, listening to you end our twenty-minute marriage.”

The Bride Ran Away

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