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Chapter Four

She almost tripped again, but his hands continued to steady her. His touch created an odd tingling, something she’d been in the bathroom trying to avoid.

There was definitely a large amount of chemistry zinging between them, and for some reason Cecile was scared. Something about Luke made her feel as if she were in a fun house, on one of those moving floors that tilted you off balance.

“Elizabeth and Devon are sharing the first dance,” Luke said as he led her back into the ballroom, his hand on the small of her back to guide her. “We’re up next.”

The lights had dimmed and a spotlight was trained on the center of the dance floor where Devon and Elizabeth were wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Ready?” Luke asked.

Cecile trembled slightly. His touch had made her edgy, as if she were about to fall down a slippery slope—and yet something told her she’d love every minute of the dangerous experience. “You know, the wedding party having to dance is a silly ritual,” Cecile said.

“You’re such a romantic,” Luke said, chuckling at her cynical attempt to disengage. “And I would normally agree with you, except that this ritual gets you into my arms, and for that I’m grateful. I’m looking forward to holding you.”

That statement simply had Cecile closing her mouth, her glib reply dying on her lips. As much as the prospect of being close to him both appealed and frightened, she found herself wanting him to hold her. She’d had such a bad run with men, but she sensed that Luke was somehow innately different. Yet, was this just here and now? Or maybe something more?

“Let’s go see how I dance,” Luke said, not giving her a chance to contemplate her thoughts further. The confident gleam in his blue eyes spoke volumes.

The spotlight dance concluded, and within seconds she was out on the dance floor and pressed up against him. He slid his arm around her, his right hand splayed against the curve of her lower back. His moves were easy as they stepped in rhythm, a unity to their flow.

Heat began to rise, creating a flush that spread across Cecile’s face and chest. If she wanted, she could easily lean her head forward and rest it on his shoulder, but instead she glanced over that shoulder and tried to stare into the darkness and decipher the mess her feelings had become.

She was older now, and this wedding had proved to her that she did want it all. Luke was the whole package. His fingers pressed against her, drawing her closer, his intentions clear. He was temptation personified, his moves a prelude to the night to come, should she choose to accept. The music ended.

“How’d I do?” he said, his deep voice holding a slightly husky quality.

“Too well,” Cecile admitted and she detached herself and made her way over to the bar. Getting a drink would put some space between them. Never had a dance made her so rattled. She needed something to cool her off, maybe provide her some focus or at least rationale for this insanity. She ordered a glass of wine and a glass of water from the bartender and took both over to the table where her parents sat. An empty seat had opened up now that the dancing had started, and a waiter stopped by with wedding cake. He put several slices down. Seeing the bouquet toss was next, Cecile excused herself to wash her hands, deliberately missing the event. Knowing Elizabeth, she’d probably aim it directly at her, and while Cecile did want to find Mr. Right, she didn’t need Luke getting any wrong ideas for she was sure he’d get the garter. Upon her return, she ignored the garter toss, ate some cake and made small talk with her parents.

About ten minutes later, black fabric entered into view on her left, and Cecile glanced up from finishing the last bite of her second piece. Luke.

“Did you save me any?” he asked, gesturing to the empty plates.

“No,” Cecile said unapologetically. She glanced at her parents, but as if on cue, the music had changed to Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” and they were rising to their feet and heading hand in hand toward the dance floor.

“You know, you are a surprise,” Luke said as he lowered himself into the chair next to her. “I thought you would have been out there with the bachelorettes.”

“I didn’t want to risk it,” Cecile said. “Knowing my sister, she’d probably run over and hand me her throwaway bouquet.”

Luke reached into his pocket and fished out a blue garter. He twirled it around his finger. “Like Devon did to me?”

“Exactly,” Cecile said. She’d been right, which was why she’d deliberately put her back to the dance floor so she didn’t have to watch the garter toss. She frowned.

As if sensing her question, Luke said, “I got out of having to dance with the girl who caught the bouquet. She was five.”

“Oh,” Cecile said.

Luke leaned over. “Jealous?”

“Ha,” Cecile said, covering her fib with sarcasm.

“Then what would you call it?” Luke asked, not letting her off the hook.

“A simple case of avoidance?” Cecile suggested.

He shook his head, those surfer-blond locks glistening. “Nah, that’s not what it is. You’re not the type who avoids confrontation. If you didn’t want a man’s attention, you’d tell him to take a hike. I think you’ve just discovered that I’m more man than you can handle.”

“In your dreams,” Cecile said. She pushed the empty plate away. “Don’t flatter yourself. I haven’t seen my parents in a while, so I was spending time with them. I’ve been in New York up until this past week.”

Luke simply arched an eyebrow. “So you’ve moved back home?”

“Not exactly. Back to my hometown. I grew up here, but I’ve been away since graduating high school. I just got a new job and so here I am.”

“Here you are,” Luke parroted.

“Right,” Cecile said, at that moment deciding it was time for him to talk about himself. “What about you? Have you always lived here?”

“Pretty much,” Luke said. “I went to Northwestern and have worked in Chicago ever since. So confirm something that’s impressed me so far about you—you aren’t the type of woman who plays typical games, are you?”

She tilted her head and studied him, trying to decide how best to answer. “You seem to think you know a lot about me.”

“I don’t. I’m pretty certain I have you typecast, though, but you do keep surprising me. I definitely would like to get to know you better, maybe take this ‘date’ to another level.”

“Hmm. I’m sure you would,” Cecile said, her fingertips keeping rhythm with the music as she let his words wash over her. She’d already indulged in an extra slice of wedding cake. What would Luke be like if she let herself have even just a taste of what the wedding magic promised? Would she regret saying no until the end of her days if she let this one moment slide by? Answer not forthcoming, she glanced at her empty wrist and exhaled in frustration. Her watch was in her bag under her chair at the head table. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Actually, yes.” Luke stretched out his arm so that the tuxedo sleeve rode up, revealing a toned forearm and a platinum watch. “It’s ten-thirty.”

“Wow. That late already.” The event ended at midnight. She glanced around. Many guests had already left. Others were crowding the dance floor.

“I guess time flies when you’re having fun,” Luke said.

“I suppose so,” Cecile said. She blinked, a bit fuzzy from too much wine and a lack of sleep from the past few weeks. No matter how tempting Luke was, her conscience told her to say no to spending the night with him. She assumed that was what he’d meant when he’d asked to take things to the next level.

Of course, that part of her in overdrive wanted nothing more than to say yes, but what if he was just another Mr. Right Now? As much as they were easier to deal with, she was tired of having flings and was ready for more. If she passed on tonight’s offer, she’d at least prove to herself that she’d changed, grown past indulgences that had no basis in anything but momentary passion. She wanted to wait for Mr. Right. If that was Luke, he’d understand. “I’m not planning on staying too much longer,” she told Luke.

“Then you have to dance with me at least one more time,” Luke insisted. The music changed, this time to a contemporary number. He rose to his feet and pulled Cecile with him. “Come on.”

His fingers on hers incited, and Cecile allowed herself to be swayed. “Okay. Just one song,” she said, especially since the faster numbers didn’t allow for any intimate contact. Touching Luke planted ideas in her head, made her want to pursue him. And admittedly Luke was one of those men who made dancing enjoyable. She’d always loved to dance, and with Luke, one song slipped into two and then three as the band played all her favorite songs in a row.

Despite having a good time, she begged off when a slow number began and made her way to the head table to retrieve her purse. She slid the beaded strap onto her shoulder and turned to him. “This has been great. Thanks. I’ll see you.”

“Sure,” Luke said. The moment was awkward and she knew he was disappointed, but she was exhausted, tired from her relocation and all the wedding events of the past week.

Although it might not be what she wanted, sleep sounded exactly like what she needed, so she left Luke and went to find her sister. Elizabeth was out on the dance floor, leading a version of “The Electric Slide,” a staple at every wedding.

“You aren’t leaving?” Elizabeth asked as she stepped to the side, the line dance continuing without her.

“I’m going to call it a night,” Cecile confirmed with a nod.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “But you can’t! Devon and I are closing the place down, and I’ve barely gotten to talk to you. And what about Luke? Loretta said you’re here with him.”

“He just said that to keep her from hitting on him,” Cecile said. A glance around the ballroom showed that Luke was nowhere in sight.

“He’s a great guy, Cecile,” Elizabeth said. “You should get to know him.”

“Perhaps in the near future,” Cecile said. “Right now I’m just ready to head back out to the suburbs.”

“You should have just stayed here for the night like Mom and Dad,” Elizabeth insisted. “Stop by the front desk and see if there’s a room. I don’t like the idea of you in a cab this late at night.”

“Really, it’s no big deal.” Cecile sighed as she saw her sister’s face. “Okay, fine. I’ll ask. I’ve got a bag checked anyway that I need to pick up.”

She took the elevator to the lobby and, because she’d given her word, approached the front desk. A minute later, the clerk told her the hotel was full. “I can find you something at a nearby hotel,” he offered.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Cecile said. She’d simply take a cab to her parents’ as she’d planned all along.

“Cecile?”

She turned upon hearing the familiar voice. She swallowed. Luke had loosened his bow tie and it hung down, exposing his neck and collarbone. “Hey, Luke,” she said. “I thought you’d gone.”

“No, I’m on my way out now. No sense in staying if you were leaving.” He came closer, and her breath lodged in her throat. Even in the bright lobby lights he looked great.

“I’m waiting for them to retrieve my garment bag,” Cecile said, the moment stretching.

“Ah,” he said, stopping only an arm’s length away.

Cecile’s knees weakened slightly as she realized how powerless she really was to the attraction she felt when around him. She also saw the moment for what it was: fate sending her another chance to say yes. Cecile was a firm believer in fate’s signs. In college, she’d been torn between two sororities, but a last-second experience at one of the parties had been the incentive she’d needed to pick the Roses. From that choice, she’d gained her best friends. And until recently, her job in New York had been perfect, but when she’d been passed over for a promotion, Cecile had taken that as a sign to try for something new. That decision had led her to The Allegra Montana Show.

Now fate was thrusting Luke Shaw in front of her once more, a sign that perhaps turning down his offer had been the wrong decision. Twenty years from now, would she regret passing by this chance? Or should she seize the moment and have a grand passion to remember when the nights grew long and cold and she was alone?

As the bellhop returned with her bag, Luke took the suitcase from her hand. “I’ve got it,” she protested.

“I’ll take it,” he replied, and she decided to let him carry her bag at least to the hotel’s taxi stand. “Do you have your valet ticket?”

“I’m taking a cab out to my parents’,” she said.

He paused and turned. “This late?”

“Yes. My apartment isn’t too far, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon.”

The pupils in Luke’s blue eyes darkened. “So stay with me.”

“You’re joking,” Cecile said, flustered and voicing the first thing that popped into her head. Luke had to be a mind reader. And worse, her libido was now fully wide-awake. And willing. Chemistry and fate made for a deadly, irresistible combination.

“I’m not kidding,” Luke said, his forceful tone sending anticipatory shivers down her spine. He led her to the revolving doors. “I’m just a few blocks away.”

“You’ve been hitting on me all night,” Cecile said, following him out onto the street as if he were the pied piper.

“Yes, I have,” Luke told her. They’d stopped right outside the taxi stand. “I’m not an animal, Cecile. My parents raised a gentleman. I won’t lie and tell you that I don’t want you. I will tell you that I’ll keep my hands off you if that’s what you’d like. You need a place to stay and I have one. So what do you say? I’ll drive you home tomorrow, when both of us are thinking more clearly. If not, I’ll see you to your cab.”

The doorman stood discreetly a few feet away. Luke nodded to him, and the man waded out into the street, blew his whistle and hailed a taxi. Luke handed the man her bag.

The cabbie started loading the suitcase into the trunk, then opened the passenger door and waited for her.

Luke reached out and put his hand on her arm. “It was great meeting you,” he said.

No! Cecile inwardly shouted as her body overrode any misgivings her head might have. Fate had given her another chance, and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

And her only reason would be that she was trying to be a good girl, holding out for a Mr. Right who might never come.

Scarlett O’Hara had it right. Tomorrow was another day.

“You are getting in with me, aren’t you?” Cecile asked. Luke paused and tilted his head. She had him with her next words. “I don’t think I know what directions to give him to your place.”

It took less than five minutes to reach his high-rise building, less than a minute to take the elevator up sixty-eight floors. Anticipation hummed between them, and Cecile tried to concentrate on her surroundings. While the outside was simply a normal rectangular skyscraper with few architectural details, inside, Luke’s living room soared a dramatic two stories. The space was light, bright and modern. Minimalist pieces and modern art dominated the space. The first floor consisted of the living room, a dining area, a kitchen to make any cook jealous, a full hall bath and the second bedroom. Upstairs contained Luke’s loft office and, beyond that, the master bedroom suite. Her apartment was a shoebox compared to this.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. “Wine? Beer? Soda?”

“Water?” Cecile suggested, suddenly extremely nervous and not wanting any more alcohol. Sure, she’d been in this type of situation before, but this time she was with Luke. And that made her nerves feel like eggshells. While she wanted this man, she wanted whatever happened between them to be worth the buildup. She didn’t want crass. Or tawdry. She stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a phenomenal view of Lake Michigan and the well-lit Navy Pier.

“Here you go,” Luke said a few moments later as he returned and handed her a glass of water. “Are you hungry? I can have some food delivered. Or I make a mean omelet.”

“I’m fine,” Cecile said. She noticed he’d stripped out of the tuxedo jacket and removed the bow tie.

She took a long drink, for her throat had gone dry. Luke was sexy. Very sexy. Too sexy for his own good. What was she doing here? He was like chocolate cake. Sinful. Decadent. Worth the guilt. She’d never been one to be able to resist what was forbidden, especially when fate intervened.

“Do you believe in wedding magic?” Cecile asked.

He frowned slightly. “Define what you mean.”

She tapped the glass with her forefinger. “The feeling that there’s something in the air at weddings. Something that makes people do things they shouldn’t.”

“I know what you’re talking about,” Luke said.

“So was that why you were hitting on me?”

Luke had chosen water, as well, and he sputtered slightly as a sip went astray. “No. I hit on you because you’re a very beautiful, desirable woman. Surely you know that.”

“You didn’t just want to pick me up, have some fun, enjoy a quick roll in the hay?” she pressed.

“I’m not afraid of going home alone at the end of the night,” Luke said. “I wasn’t staking out the hotel lobby.”

“No?” Cecile’s body reacted to his honesty. She’d come willingly to his house, but she’d had to question him to be positive she was about to make the right choice. For some reason, it was important she not be a notch on his belt, important that, had she turned him down, he wouldn’t have just turned elsewhere.

“No,” Luke said. “From the first moment I saw you I wasn’t settling for anything less. Why else would I leave after you did?”

“I have to admit, you’ve been tempting me all night,” she heard herself say. If he was turned on, so was she. Life had a way of putting her in situations like this, making her realize that leopards couldn’t change their spots. And with a man like Luke Shaw, who wanted to change in the first place?

“So what are you going to do?” Luke asked, his voice silky and seductive.

“I haven’t decided,” Cecile said, although in reality she had. She needed release and fulfillment. She was a woman with needs, and hers hadn’t been met in a while. She didn’t want Bob. She desired flesh and blood. She wanted to be driven over the edge and into the abyss. She wanted Luke.

And with that, all her resolutions to say no flew out the window. She’d start over tomorrow.

“Is there anything I can do to help you decide?” Luke asked. He’d moved toward her, almost as close as he’d been during that first slow dance.

She’d been seduced before but never like this. Luke was out of her league. Her body already hummed, and she was damp. “You don’t make anything easy, do you?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Never,” Luke said. He reached out and ran a finger down her bare arm. She shivered but not from cold. “I get what I want, Cecile. Always have, always will.”

“And what do you want?” Cecile said, her breath lodging in her throat as she waited for his reply.

“I want you,” Luke said, his tone forceful and determined. A thrill shot though her. “And I definitely want this.”

With that, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

Chapter Five

The man could kiss. Oh, maybe it was because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like this, but Cecile didn’t think so. Luke Shaw was simply the master. He pressed her shoulders up against the plate-glass window and plundered her mouth like an experienced sexual pirate.

She heard herself moan as he raked his teeth across her tongue, felt herself shake as his hands gripped her buttocks and drew her lower half forward so that her body molded to his.

He ran his tongue over her lips, teasing and cajoling. His lips lingered, pleasuring her with an endless kiss that robbed her senses. Time stopped as Cecile simply let herself enjoy. Then he slid his lips to the side, over her cheek and over to her right ear. “Follow me,” he said.

At this moment she might let him lead her anywhere, but he led her upstairs into his bedroom. Here again he had floor-to-ceiling windows but this time with a western view. He left the lamps off, undressing her in the muted glow of the city lights coming through the sheers.

He unzipped the purple dress and let the offensive garment pool at her feet. Lowering his lips, he kissed his way over the skin he’d exposed. He suckled her through her bra, and when she cried out with pleasure, he unhooked the purple lace and tossed it away. Then he replaced his mouth and danced his tongue over her sensitive peaks.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her. And unlike other men who’d said that line, with Luke she believed. He raised his hands to remove the pins in her hair and sent the updo tumbling down. The strands cascaded to the tops of her breasts, and he lifted a lock to his lips. “I love this color. So fiery and lovely against your skin.”

And then he kissed her neck before he began to work his way lower. All Cecile could do was let the pleasure wash over her in waves. She reached for him, but Luke brushed her hands away. “Enjoy,” he commanded, and as he stripped away her matching purple underwear and lowered himself to his knees, she simply obeyed his instructions as the bliss began.

She clutched the top of his head for support as pleasure rocked her, and then finally he was standing, kissing her mouth and carrying her to his bed. He threw the coverlet aside and placed her on the soft sheets. His fingers were everywhere, and Cecile groaned as he spread her legs and worked her into frenzy. Then he removed his own clothes, freeing a part of him that strained for attention. He was a big man and perfectly proportionate. He protected himself, leaned over her and slid inside.

“Oh,” Cecile said as her body adjusted to his presence. He fit her well, and she quivered as the first of her releases began. He stroked easily, sending her into multiple valleys and crests, each one exponentially more pleasurable than the rest. He kissed her eyelids, kissed her lips, kissed her breasts. He slid in and out, his body matching her rhythm until he shattered them both in a climax unlike any Cecile had experienced.

She’d never been so satiated. She and Tori had often complained to each other that after lovemaking the woman was often still so wired that she felt like she could go outside and run a marathon. But not this time. Not with Luke.

The man could dance. He could make love. Both superbly. He drew her into his arms, and her body rested, spent and totally fulfilled.

“Good?” he asked.

“Phenomenal,” she told him, and then her eyes began to close.

“I’m glad. I’ll be back in a second. Just rest.”

She heard him enter the bathroom, and within moments he’d returned and curled her to his side as if she had belonged there forever. She decided she liked it and, within moments, drifted away.

ONCE HE WAS SURE she was sleeping, Luke slipped from the bed to retrieve her suitcase. She’d want it in the morning.

When he returned, he set the case on the floor and took a moment to stand there in the muted light and study her. She was beautiful. There was no other word for it. Her strawberry-blond hair fell about her shoulders in waves, the style from the wedding long gone. He had kissed her creamy skin everywhere, and he let his gaze trace a path down her body to the small of her back. His sheets hid, yet outlined, the rest of her—those long legs that had wrapped around him tightly and taken him to heights never imagined.

His first impression of her had been right—she was everything he wanted in a woman. He’d dated enough to know the difference between lust and love. He knew the difference between “this is a woman I want to do” and “this is a woman I want to have.”

Cecile fit in the latter category. He was a realist and perhaps a little jaded. She had asked him if he believed in wedding magic. Magic was Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. It had a time and a purpose. However, that didn’t discount that something had happened between him and Cecile, something new and different, as if the right key had finally fit the lock of a place he subconsciously kept guarded.

There was a country song about a man seeing a woman and immediately imagining the dress and the church and happily ever after. Luke had no such immediate illusions with Cecile, but Luke knew that something was different this time, and it demanded further exploration. Luke slid into bed and curled her to him.

She sensed his presence for she rolled to face him. “Hey,” she said, immediately awake. She touched his chest, and Luke tried to fight the desire that overtook him as she moved her lips to his. Somehow he’d slow this relationship down. Tonight would not be a one-night stand. Not by a long shot.

WHEN SHE FIRST WOKE up that morning, Cecile needed several seconds to remember where she was. And exactly what she’d done. She leaned up on her elbow. The bedside clock read nine-fifteen. She lowered herself back down onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Beside her, Luke slept on, his breathing steady and regular.

Cecile’s heart raced a little, and she worked to steady herself. How many times during the night had he reached for her? How many times had they made love? Each time he’d wanted her, she’d woken up and found herself ready and willing.

Her body ached from all the pleasures it had blissfully endured. Luke was a generous and giving lover, and she’d enjoyed every moment she’d spent with him. Her only regret? That it was time to let the magic end and get back to the real world. Sure, Luke had said last night that he’d drive her home, but Cecile was independent. As much as she’d like to stay here, mornings after were always awkward. She’d let him sleep and leave a goodbye note.

Besides, she’d made herself a vow. Tomorrow had arrived. Despite the connection she’d experienced, Cecile’s cynicism had returned with the light of day. Good sex wasn’t a foundation for a relationship.

Cecile slipped from the bed and slid into her undergarments only. Luke had retrieved her suitcase and she’d grab something out to wear for the ride home. She refused to travel to the suburbs in a bridesmaid’s dress.

She frowned as she wadded up her clothes and made one more sweep of the room before padding her way down the stairs, now clad in black knit pants and a red short-sleeve sweater. She zipped the bridesmaid dress and heels inside the suitcase and glanced around. She had her purse. She wore the flip-flops she’d worn to the salon for her bridal party pedicure. She had just about everything. Opening her purse, she drew out her watch and slipped that on before reaching for her phone.

Her cell phone! That was still in Luke’s tuxedo pocket! Cecile glanced around the living room. He’d taken the jacket off last night before they’d gone upstairs. Where had he put it? Kitchen? The morning sun was flooding through the huge eastern windows, the Sunday-morning lake view beautiful. She knew she didn’t have much time before Luke stirred.

She found the jacket tossed onto the back of a dining room chair. Snagging her phone, she flipped it open. No messages. She tucked the device into her purse and surveyed the condo a final time. Time to leave a note. Leave her phone number.

She paused. That would defeat leaving things as they were. While she sensed Luke was somehow different, her jumping into his bed had proven that, while she’d had good intentions, she wasn’t different. She hadn’t resisted acting on her urges. She’d still chosen a Mr. Right Now instead of searching for Mr. Right.

No, maybe things would be better simply left in silence. He could always ask her sister if he really wanted to track her down. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t know where to find him should she change her mind.

Once out in the main room, Cecile made her way to the front door. She again glanced around one final time, her mind once more debating the subtleness of just running out. Then she stilled the indecision in her head, reached for the door handle and left.

LUKE HADN’T SLEPT so well, or so late in quite a long while. He stretched, his feet not quite reaching the end of his California king-size bed. He felt great. That was saying something, actually. Normally after a night of truly excellent sex he was a little wiped out. Content but not very rested. This time everything had been beyond perfect. Despite the lack of sleep, his body had never been so alive or so in tune. Making love to Cecile had been incredible, better than anything else he’d experienced.

He reached for her and discovered she wasn’t there.

Luke frowned and sat up immediately. He hadn’t closed the drapes, but it was clear it was still morning, and a glance at the clock told him it was almost ten. When had she left? And how had he not woken up? He’d always woken up before.

Then again, he’d never made love to Cecile before. Everything about her—and everything about last night—had been different.

Sure, at the start of the wedding reception they’d simply been toying with each other, seducing each other with words. Then she’d said yes, and when they’d arrived at his apartment, things had become turbocharged. For him, that first kiss had changed the stakes. He’d wanted her, and not just to slake some lust. Last night hadn’t been about indulging in temporary wedding magic, as she’d called it. He’d experienced a connection, darn it. Hadn’t she?

Maybe he didn’t have her pegged as thoroughly as he thought he did. She’d surprised him yet again. He tossed off the sheet, pulled on some boxers and made his way downstairs. The part of him expecting a note quickly found itself disappointed. She’d vanished without a trace, forgoing a goodbye.

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Yaş sınırı:
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Hacim:
201 s. 3 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9781474022194
Telif hakkı:
HarperCollins
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