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her。 She finally fell into a restless sleep; only to be awaken at

intervals by the creak of that bed。 It was nearly dawn when she realized

that she wasn't brooding about Jeff for a change。 On that ironic note;

and thoroughly worn out; she slept soundly。

What seemed only moments later; she was jolted awake by a thunderous

noise in the kitchen。 Livid; she bolted out of bed; whipped the chair

from the door; and stormed toward the source of the racket。

〃What; in God's name; was that noise?〃 she shouted; rounding the kitchen

door in time to see Mitch picking up the first of a scattered mess of

pots; pans; and metal utensils that covered the linoleum by the stove。

He wore a navy velour robe that barely touched his knees; and was

barefoot like her。 And disheveled。 And very; very cranky。

Shooting her a sidelong glare; he bellowed; 〃What kind of housekeeper

are you; piling things in the cabi like that? Did you really expect

them to stay put once I opened the door? And where in the hell is the

orange juice press? My Lord; woman; get to it and clean up this mess!〃

Friends who knew Anne to be easygoing; even…tempered; understanding; and

acmodating would never have recognized the spitfire she suddenly

became。 It had been too long a day yesterday; too long a night last

night; too disturbing an ordeal for months; for an ounce of poise to

survive。

Dark eyes flashing; she confronted him。 〃You clean it up。 I didn't make

the mess; and I'm not your slave! It happens that I didn't touch that

cabi when I arrived。 Put your blame on whomever you please; as long

as it isn't on me! And what right do you have to wake me up? Thi

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情深不负遇见农门谋生之携子敛财穿成年代文失忆男配的早死妻子燕脂旖风道士生活录钻石硬汉
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