18

Chapter 7

Chapter Five


Chapter Five

“WHAT‟S wrong?” Alyssa asked as Luc sped through the night, toward

her house.

Three a.m. wasn‟t the best time for a heart-to-heart, but he exuded a

fuck-off vibe like she‟d never felt from him before. Something grim rolled off

him in choking waves, and though she knew he wouldn‟t welcome the

conversation, she felt his pain and couldn‟t remain quiet.

“Nothing.” He bit out the word.

“So you always run red lights for the hell of it?”

Luc‟s body tensed. “Shit. Sorry. I wasn‟t paying attention.”

“Did He-Man say something to upset you?”

His hands tensed on the wheel. “Deke is still looking at your security

system. He‟ll call in a few when he‟s done.”

A non-answer. Luc was good at evasion. Then again, maybe this had

nothing to do with his cousin.

“Look, if your foul mood has anything to do with what happened in the

kitchen earlier—”

“It‟s over, it‟s done, and it‟s not happening again.”

Like hell. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I gotta tell you, Chef, I don‟t think your new girlfriend is keeping you satisfied.”

“Keep her out of this.”

“If there‟s one thing I know, it‟s men. And if you were happy, today

wouldn‟t have happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Something almost did.”

Luc was quiet for long seconds. Alyssa cursed under her breath. She‟d

pushed too hard. Maybe tomorrow would be a better time to talk.

“We haven‟t been seeing each other long. We haven‟t . . . Sex isn‟t the

point of the relationship.”

Translation: He hadn‟t slept with this woman. As sexual as Luc was,

seriously? Alyssa was happier about that than she should have been.

“What? You two play Scrabble together?”

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“Just drop it,” he growled.

For now. “All right. Thank you for helping me with Primpton today. I

didn‟t get a chance to tell you how much I appreciate you defending me.”

“He‟s a disingenuous prick trying to stir up trouble to either elevate

himself or his bullshit cause. I would have defended anyone he trashed.”

Maybe that was true. But if Luc had nothing but contempt for her, he

wouldn‟t bother. He must have some other feelings for her. She just had to

figure out what and how to grow them.

“Which is part of the reason you attract me,” she said softly. “You have

a good heart.”

“Alyssa—”

“Yeah, I know. I was a good fuck, and now you don‟t want to talk about

it.”

Damn it, she should have been subtler. She had to keep control of her

emotions and use her head, or he would bolt.

Silent minutes slid by again; then he surprised her by asking, “What

happened to your mom?”

“Who told—?” She sighed. “Fucking Tyler. He doesn‟t know when to

shut up.”

“Two weeks isn‟t long to grieve.”

Alyssa hesitated. Answer him and open up a potential door of pain?

Shut him out and end the rapport and another chance to show him that she

was a real woman under the garters?

“We weren‟t close. Her absence doesn‟t alter my day-to-day life. She

was my blood, and I know I should feel like part of me is missing . . . and in

a way, I guess I do. When I first heard, I went through the shock and denial.

Anger consumed me for a few days. Now I just feel . . . numb.”

His gaze softened. “You‟re still processing.”

“I guess. I‟ve never really lost anyone before.” She wrapped her arms

around her middle.

When she thought of her mother‟s death, a tight emptiness cramped

her gut. But she couldn‟t manage to cry. Maybe too many years had gone

by. Maybe she was still too angry.

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“Allergic reaction,” she murmured. “My mother was violently allergic to

peanuts. Somehow a trace of them made it into her food and . . . she didn‟t

get medication in time.”

“I‟m sorry.” He reached across the distance separating them and

grabbed her hand.

She squeezed it. Now that she was talking about her mother, it wasn‟t

that hard. “I think what bothers me the most is knowing that, because she‟s gone, we can‟t resolve what was wrong between us. It can never be fixed.”

“And you regret the time you spent apart?”

Big, tough question. “Yes and no. I wish things could have been

different, but they couldn‟t.”

Luc released her hand to focus on driving again, and she felt the

withdrawal of his touch like a pang. Why did she crave this man who

wanted her far more than he liked her? And way, way more than he

respected her?

“I know it‟s none of my business, but did she . . . disapprove of your

career?”

Alyssa sent him a bitter laugh. “Dancing around a pole isn‟t a career;

it‟s a way to make ends meet. And no. She didn‟t know. I appreciate you

listening, but there‟s nothing you can do to change the fact we‟ll never have

the chance to speak again.”

“Is your mom one of the reasons you help the other dancers improve

their lives?”

“No. I improved myself for me and me alone. I don‟t give a shit what

other people think. But if these girls have the drive, I want them to better

their own situations because they want more for themselves. They‟ll need

the fortitude to manage a grueling schedule.”

Luc nodded. “Sounds like eighteen-hour days.”

“Often.”

He sent her a measuring stare. “But you did it—more than once.”

“As I said, I‟m a business owner. And I have ambitions.”

Alyssa saw the moment he understood.

“That‟s what Bonheur is about. You want . . . what? Normalcy?

Respect?”

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Luc was getting uncomfortably close to the truth, and it would probably

make him laugh. Likely he thought her chances for respectability had died

when Clinton was still president.

“It‟s just a restaurant,” she protested weakly.

“No. Bonheur is your happiness.”

She swallowed. He‟d guessed that quickly, but she was afraid to admit

he was right aloud. Would he laugh? What if the restaurant failed and she

had to continue dancing? What happened when she got too old for even

that?

“I‟m not ashamed of myself,” she snapped.

He understood her, but not completely—and she couldn‟t allow him to.

She wanted to feel his body against hers, his heart beating with hers. She

wanted his love, and yes, his respect. He could be as sexually demanding

as he wanted, but he had no right to expect her to just hand him her soul

on a silver platter. He was probing into a past she never discussed. With

anyone. Blabbing about it wasn‟t going to change a damn thing. And who

needed the pain of dredging it up when it did no good?

Luc turned to her, his expression startlingly solemn. “I‟m sorry for your

loss. I hope you find the happiness you deserve.”

WHEN they reached the house, Alyssa hopped from the car before he

could get her door or say a word. She was hiding something. Luc was

beginning to understand her . . . yet there was a whole chunk of her he

didn‟t grasp at all. It shouldn‟t matter. He wasn‟t staying, and he couldn‟t

again be her lover—even temporarily.

Then why did he feel a driving urge to figure her out?

The pain. That note in her voice, the tightening of her sultry features.

The past, her mother—something beyond normal grief—hurt her. Pride hit

a note in there, too. Despite her pole-dancing ways, she‟d taken the time to

thoroughly educate herself. She helped others with the drive to do the

same.

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What the fuck did it say about him that, in this moment, he wanted to

slay her proverbial dragons for her?

Luc stormed in the house, just a few steps behind her. The

conversation should be done . . . but he wasn‟t ready to end it yet. He had

more to decipher.

But the phone in his pocket vibrated, and he pulled it out with a curse.

Deke.

He pressed the talk button. “Talk to me.”

“It ain‟t good, man. Sophisticated shit. Someone who knew a thing or

ten about security systems tampered with the sensors in her upstairs

windows, then rigged the control panel to automatically bypass that zone.”

So the culprit wasn‟t a drunk frat boy or a prankster. “Shit.”

“I‟ve fixed it again and put a trigger on it. If anyone so much as

breathes on the device, it will sound an alarm. When Jack gets back, I‟ll

have him look at it, too, see if there‟s anything else we can do to keep this

place tight.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep a close eye on Alyssa. Someone wanted to get to her badly

enough to screw with a top-notch security system. That‟s expertise or a

shitload of money to buy the expertise. Makes me wonder just how hard

this prick is for her.”

Luc wondered the same thing and cursed.

“I‟ll stay close to her, especially until Jack returns.” Wouldn‟t that do

wonders for his restraint? But he couldn‟t worry about that now when

Alyssa‟s safety might be in jeopardy.

“Need some hardware?”

Guns weren‟t his favorite, but Deke had made sure he was efficient

and accurate. Luc wasn‟t registered to carry in Louisiana, but the situation

was too serious to worry about technicalities.

“That‟s probably a wise idea.”

“Give me a day or so. I‟ll be back with everything you need.”

“I appreciate it.”

Deke hesitated. “I‟d do anything for you, man.”

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Except allow him to play daddy to this coming baby. Not that Luc

should expect it. Or deserved it after the way he‟d manipulated Kimber and

his cousin.

“Same here,” he said finally.

“You okay with the baby and everything?”

No. The news of Deke‟s pending fatherhood had nearly staggered him

to his knees, left him unable to breathe. Deke now had everything Luc had

ever wanted. Kimber and his cousin had barely tried to conceive and . . .

Luc sighed. He was thrilled for them. For himself, he despaired.

And he didn‟t want to talk about it again. Think about it, even. His own

failure as a man was sharp enough without the rehash.

This week he couldn‟t do a damn thing to move closer to his dream.

Until he returned home, he had to focus on his promise to Alyssa and now

on keeping her safe.

At the top of his list had to be figuring out who her stalker was. His

best suspects were Primpton, a nut job if he‟d ever seen one. Or Peter, the

frat boy who had money and apparently hadn‟t learned the meaning of the

word “no.”

But what about Tyler? Would the bouncer manufacture terror so that

Alyssa felt it necessary to be closer to him? He was shifty enough, but after

tonight‟s display at the club, Luc couldn‟t see why he‟d have to. Tyler could

touch her any way, anytime, he wanted.

Finally, Luc answered Deke the only way he could. “You deserve to be

happy. I‟m thrilled for you both.”

“Maybe you should . . . get tested again. It‟s been a while, right?”

Years, but nothing would change the fact he had a ridiculously low

sperm count. Enduring the humiliation of jacking off into a plastic tube

again made no sense. “There are other ways. I‟ve read recently about a

surgery that extracts sperm. I‟m also looking into adoption. Or maybe I‟ll

find someone with small kids or . . . There are options.”

“Absolutely. All great ones.”

“I‟ll work it out. In the meantime, take care of your sweet wife and give

her my regards.”

“Will do.” Deke sounded reluctant, but he dropped the subject and

ended the call.

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As soon as Luc pocketed his phone, he swore and did his best to push

aside the turmoil brewing in his gut. He had more pressing problems now.

He should have checked the house before letting Alyssa burst in. If

someone had breached her car and her club, it seemed logical he might hit

her house next—and perhaps make the attack more personal.

Thanking God that nothing in the house looked disturbed, Luc

bounded up the stairs two at a time with a pounding heart. He reached the

landing quickly. Light spilled from her bedroom door, and he eased inside.

A rumpled bed, feminine knickknacks scattered across the dresser, a

book on the bedside table. Nothing out of place.

But a trail of clothing snagged his attention. Strewn across the

gleaming hardwood floor, her tank top, filmy white skirt, silky hose, black

garter belt, and lacy bra lay a step or two apart. Heart beating even harder,

he followed the pieces to her half-open bathroom door. A barely there

thong with a rhinestone-studded GODDESS hung from the knob. Luc

leaned to the right and saw inside.

And lost his ability to breathe.

Alyssa had pinned her hair atop her head in a haphazard twist and

filled her jetted tub with bubbles. She leaned back and sensuously soaped

her gleaming skin with a pink loofah. Closing her eyes, she sighed.

Instantly, he got hard enough to pound steel.

Luc had ascertained that she was safe and no one had broken into her

house. He knew needed to back the hell away now. But like last night when

he‟d watched her bring herself to orgasm, he couldn‟t seem to make his

feet move.

Suddenly, she lifted her sultry blue gaze to him. “Need something?”

A loaded question. Yes! In fact, he feared he‟d gone beyond wanting

her to needing her.

Luc drew in a shaky breath. No. He just needed to get laid. His sex

drive had finally reasserted itself after Kimber and Deke‟s decision to

become a couple—and exclude him. Alyssa just happened to be the first

female in a fifty-foot radius.

Except . . . if he‟d met her yesterday and she looked like she‟d be the

sort of mother he had in mind, he would have hustled her into bed and into

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a relationship as fast as he possibly could. He didn‟t just want her; he was

beginning to like her. And that made her all the more dangerous.

Nor did her pretty pink nipples, hard and bobbing on the water‟s

surface, help clear his thoughts.

“Alyssa, don‟t do this to me.” God, he barely recognized his own voice.

“Please.”

She raised a brow at him, dragged the loofah across one breast, over

her nipple, licked her lips, and let loose a little whimper. Luc staggered

back, gripping the doorknob. The silk that had rubbed against her pussy all

day filled his hand. She was everywhere, frying his brain, searing his blood.

This had train wreck written all over it, and his craving for her was about to

jump the tracks.

“Do what? You‟re in my bathroom.”

He fisted his hands and counted to ten, eyes closed. “Shut the

goddamn door next time.”

“I‟m used to living alone. If you don‟t like the view, don‟t come in.”

She was being intentionally obtuse.

Swearing, he opened his eyes. “If you don‟t stop teasing me, you won‟t

like what happens next.”

Because he felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. What he‟d

done to her the last time he‟d spent the night with her would look like gentle

hand-holding compared to the need charging through his bloodstream. If he

unleashed that on her, God help them both.

Alyssa merely sent him a calm, considering glance. “Then leave.”

He exhaled roughly and stared at the ceiling. “I‟m trying.”

“Let me help you,” Tyler offered, his voice mere inches behind Luc.

As Luc turned, the bouncer shouldered his way in, drifting farther into

the little bathroom. He moaned appreciatively at the sight of Alyssa bathing.

“Damn, you look gorgeous, baby. Where‟s a camera when I need it?”

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Luc demanded. “Get out!”

Tyler glared over his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“I‟ve been staying here since Homer gave my room away.” Luc

crossed his arms over his chest. “How did you get in?”

The bouncer sent him a gloating smile. “I have a house key.”

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Those five words jolted Luc. Yes, he‟d suspected they were lovers, but

this sealed the deal.

If Alyssa was going to let Tyler barge in and stay, Luc couldn‟t remain

here, knowing they were fucking—or worse, hearing them. Getting out was

his only option.

Yet he couldn‟t make himself walk out and leave her to share her bed

with Tyler.

The other man reached around him and grabbed a towel off the rack

and held it up. “Out you go. I need to see you.”

Alyssa speared him with an impatient glare. “Now?”

Tyler nodded. “I tried to call and tell you I was on my way.”

“I think I left my phone in Luc‟s SUV. ” She sighed. “Can‟t a girl get

some peace?”

Despite her protest, Alyssa stood, water cascading down her golden

skin, nipples beaded and dripping. The sight charged Luc‟s need for her

again. Turbo-juiced and on fire, his sex drive overloaded his good sense.

“Let‟s go,” Tyler demanded.

“She stays with me,” he snarled.

Shaking her head, Alyssa sent him a smile of apology. “This must be

urgent. Hopefully, Tyler and I won‟t be too long.”

What was urgent? Tyler‟s need to fuck her? Couldn‟t be more urgent

than his own.

Damn, Luc couldn‟t believe that Alyssa had chosen the beefy caveman

over him. After she‟d been relentlessly tormenting him, nearly giving him a

blow job mere hours ago? After more than hinting all day that she wanted

him? She was giving Tyler her attention.

Alyssa stepped out of the tub and allowed Tyler to wrap the towel

around her, draw her body against his. He slurped water off of her soft

shoulder and groaned.

Motherfucking son of a bitch! Luc grabbed the door, barely resisting

the urge to punch Tyler in the face.

Why hit the man because the woman they both wanted had chosen? If

he should be angry with anyone, it was himself, for wanting her in the first

place.

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“Do whatever the fuck you want. Looks like you‟re going to anyway.”

Luc slammed the door and stalked out into the night.

NOT at all proud of himself, Luc stood across the street from Alyssa‟s

darkened house, whiskey bottle in hand, and waited. He‟d been here for

the past hour, and now that it was nearly four in the morning and he was

well on his way to drunk and angrier than ever.

She‟d chosen Tyler. Even now they were inside fucking like mad while

he wandered the park, his proverbial dick in his hand, wishing like hell that

he was in Tyler‟s place. This, after Luc had turned her down more than

once, fucking idiot that he was.

To make matters worse, he‟d picked up a message from Emily earlier.

Instead of being relieved to hear her voice, the high-pitched, happy-happy

tone had been like a red-hot steel rod shoved through his brain. She‟d

invited him to a church picnic next weekend, and his first reaction had been

dread.

What was the matter with him?

Alyssa Devereaux.

It had taken Tyler‟s intrusion, Alyssa‟s subtle rebuff, and his own

intoxication to realize that maybe the best course of action was to fuck her

and get her out of his system. Of course, that option wasn‟t available just

now since she was otherwise occupied.

Thank God he‟d bought this bottle from Alyssa‟s bartender after

Deke‟s visit.

What did Tyler do for her that got her off so satisfactorily? Was he an

oral god? Was he exceptionally well hung? Luc made a face at the thought

of Tyler‟s man parts. The one thing he very much doubted was that Tyler

could surpass his stamina. Luc knew he had the bouncer—and just about

anyone else—beat at that game.

Not that he‟d ever been proud of the fact he sometimes went into a

sexual frenzy and didn‟t emerge for hours . . . and didn‟t ask a lover about

her comfort or pleasure. He took and gave to her relentlessly until she was

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a slave to the clawing need. In his altered state, he lived for her fingernails

in his back, her breathy pleas, and above all, her screams.

Suddenly, Alyssa‟s porch light flipped on. The front door opened. Tyler

stepped outside, and she emerged behind him, wearing a pale satin gown

that flirted with her bare thighs, her hair spilling down her back like a

shining beacon.

The bouncer reached the door of his truck, then turned. He cupped

Alyssa‟s shoulders, brought her against his big body, stroked the soft crown

of her hair. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking perfectly comfortable

in his arms.

Luc looked away and took another swallow of whiskey. The liquid

crashed to the bottom of his stomach, burning. Or was his gut on fire

because he kept playing the vision of Tyler fucking Alyssa over and over in

his head?

No avoiding the truth now. Luc was so damn jealous he could hardly

see straight. Wasn‟t irony a bitch?

Alyssa straightened. Tyler murmured something, then kissed her

forehead. She nodded—then stepped back.

Luc frowned. If they‟d been burning up the sheets for the past hour,

wouldn‟t they part with a lingering kiss?

Finally, the other man hopped into his sleek black truck and drove off.

Alyssa watched him turn the corner. Then she clapped eyes on his own

SUV.

“Luc?”

Fuck. He should have left, driven off someplace so he didn‟t have to

see her with Tyler—and have her know that he‟d been watching. But no,

he‟d been too busy drowning in alcohol and jealousy to think straight.

With a sigh, he pushed away from the tree, his gaze glued to her

slender form, the breeze rustling her silky hair, her nipples poking the front

of her shimmering low-cut negligee, the satin clinging to her hips.

Tyler had probably just crawled from between her thighs, and damn if

Luc didn‟t want to crawl between them himself. He wanted her so badly, he

didn‟t give a shit if he got sloppy seconds.

He was in so fucking deep.

Finally, he stepped into the streetlamp‟s pool of light.

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Alyssa gasped, then smothered the sound with her hand. She peered

down at the bottle he clutched. “You‟re drunk.”

Luc wished that were true. He shook his head. “Not for lack of trying.”

“Come inside the house and let‟s get some sleep.” She turned for the

front door.

He darted after her. Just inside the foyer, he grabbed her arm. “You

have nothing else to say?”

She sent him a sharp glare. “No one asked you to leave.”

“So I was supposed to watch him maul you?” Luc slammed the door,

enclosing them in shadowy silence. Then something terrible occurred to

him. “Oh, hell, no. Did you want us both to fuck you? Together? Never

going to happen. I may not have exclusive rights to you, but I won‟t

voluntarily share you ever again.”

Alyssa wrenched her arm free from his grip and slapped him.

“Goddamn you! I‟m so tired of you finding every snide, roundabout way

possible to call me a whore. Just grow the balls and say it. C‟mon! You

think I fuck everything in pants.”

“Didn‟t you have sex with Tyler just now?”

Her mouth tightened. Pain crossed her face for a moment—until fury

took over. “Since you left, you‟ll never know.”

She stepped into the living room and turned for the stairs. And Luc

couldn‟t stand it. He should let her go; this consuming sort of anger wasn‟t

normal, wasn‟t him. But he couldn‟t do it.

He lunged and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her against him.

She‟d know instantly how hard he was, but what the hell? He was

perpetually hard around her. And if she hadn‟t figured it out yet, he had

more than a little clue for her.

“Did you let him fuck you tonight?”

Damn if his voice didn‟t break. Luc didn‟t want the answer to matter,

but he was way past pretending it didn‟t.

She struggled to get free, but he held firm. When she gave up, he

turned her to face him.

“Did you?” he demanded.

“You don‟t know a damn thing about me, and that question proves it.

Even if I gave you the truth, you wouldn‟t believe it. You want to hear that I

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went down on him in the bathroom, then we moved to the bedroom so he

could suck my tits while I rode him, then after a reverse cowgirl, he finished

me off from behind. That enough detail for you?”

Luc closed his eyes against the image her words painted. God, he was

going to throw up Jack Daniels everywhere.

He tightened his grip on her. “Is that the truth?”

“Wouldn‟t that make your life easier? You could quickly write me off.

Oh, fuck me first, of course. Everyone else does, right? But then you could

walk away because I‟m nothing more than a whore. Well, you know what?

Fuck you.” Alyssa elbowed him in the stomach.

Luc grunted and doubled over, clutching his middle, as he glared at

her retreating back.

“Damn it, Alyssa! I . . .”

“You what?”

What had he been about to say? Did it really matter? He‟d insulted her

utterly—and he still didn‟t know if he was right. He just knew that he had a

terrible fear that if he let her go upstairs and into her bedroom alone, he

might never have the chance to touch her again.

“I don‟t know,” he finally admitted.

“You‟re right!” she screamed. “You don‟t know. You don‟t know shit

about me. Did you ever think there was a woman under all this makeup and

provocative clothes who had real feelings that had nothing to do with sex?

Did you ever think that maybe I wanted you to see me as something other

than a stripper and an easy lay? That maybe you meant something to me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

Alyssa sniffed, then sobbed. The sound tore through Luc‟s chest.

Jesus, he never meant to hurt her. “I‟m sorry.”

“Forget it. It doesn‟t matter anymore.”

Her words incited a panic he couldn‟t fight. “Wait! I—”

“No.” She stepped back, away from him. “Forget it. I don‟t get my car

back from Remy until Wednesday, but I‟ll have Tyler drive me around until

then. I‟ll get you a room with Homer in the morning. Shouldn‟t be too hard

since I paid him to give away your room to begin with.”

Oh, dear God. The bottom dropped out of his stomach, and he finally

understood—too late. She‟d wanted him to be with her. Spend time with

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her. See what was between them, sexually and otherwise. And he‟d treated

her with silent contempt. Like dirt. But even if he magically fell in love with

her tomorrow, she didn‟t fit into his future plans.

Luc took another long swig from the bottle. “I‟m . . . sorry.”

“I get it. In your head, we‟re from different worlds. You‟ve put me in my

place, and I won‟t overreach again.” She stiffened her spine and headed for

the stairs, then turned back to him. “For the record, Tyler‟s visit was about

the break-in at the club. At tonight‟s sweep, he thoroughly investigated the

entire upstairs. Seems that my stalker left me another knife and „love note‟

embedded in the pillow of my bedroom at the club. And this one not only

called me a whore; he said he‟d put a stop to me for good very soon.”

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