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Page 147
sudden tearfulness as Peter, who uttered a strangled, "Oh, my God," and dropped his bag so he could put both arms around her. It was scarcely the place for an avowal of faith or even for comforting a young woman whose feelings had been hurt, as Peter realized. After a hearty squeeze, he pushed Linda away and grabbed his valise as suddenly as he had dropped it.
"Let's get out of here," he muttered.
What had astonished Linda so much that she had failed to react when Peter grabbed her was the tell-tale tears. They had brought a final realization of the true depth of her feelings. It was far too late to consider that falling in love was dangerous. It was far, far too late to tell herself that Donald was handsomer and had better manners than Peter. It was equally useless to question or berate herself about why. She was head over heels in love with this mana man who grabbed her in public, then pushed her away, who made nasty innuendos about her character and purposes, who said he thought he owned her.
The enormity of that idea stunned Linda further so that she let herself be herded, with shoves from Peter's shoulder and elbow, out of the airport building and right to the parking lot. Still numb, she took the lead to the car. By the trunk, Peter held out his hand and she put the keys into it, in the next moment finding herself firmly escorted to the passenger's seat. At the exit, she heard the liquid flow of Italian, and money changed hands.

 
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