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Page 15

| a row of cocks, and flung them out to the customers without spilling even one bubble. |

| A slight clapping of hands drew Ashton's gaze to Sasha. "Bravo!" she said, her hair swirling around her shoulders as she stepped up to the bar where Ashton was now arcing liquor from tumbler to tumbler. "Ashton, you've missed your calling. You should join the circus. My word, your performance would surely make a circus juggler blush in shame." |

| "Anything to keep my lady entertained," Ashton said, continuing to perform his feats with the alcohol, cheers and applause proving that his efforts were appreciated by more than just Sasha. He glanced at the painting. "Sweet darlin', I dedicate my performance to you today. It seems that you need something to get your mind off Woodrow Rutherford. You can't give up on him, can you?" |

| Blood rushed to Sasha's cheeks. "Ashton, he promised that he'd be back," she said, her lower lip curving into a sensual pout. "He must have met with some tragedy. Perhaps . . . perhaps the ship on which he was traveling to England was wrecked in a storm at sea. I . . . would never know, would I?" |

| She toyed with the tiny cameo ring on her left hand, recalling the moment Woodrow gave it to her. It was a promise ring, of sorts. |

| "I can't believe he's dead," she added pensively. "A man as kind as he should live forever." |

| "Sasha, I think it's best if you concentrate on our partnership, not on the aristocrat and what may have happened to him," Ashton said, jealousy scalding his insides. He paused from his bartending to lean across the counter, only a whisper away from |

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