And that meant that everything was different between them. She would never give in to the shadows again. She might not be as powerful as Julian, but her will was as strong as his. Jenny had come through the fire alive-and purified. It had burned away the part of her that had responded to Julian, that had craved his danger and wildness. The fire she'd passed through in the last Game, the one he'd created to trap her, had changed her. In those days part of her actually longed for the moment when she would stop fighting, for the final surrender. Fighting his sensuality, fighting his beauty, fighting the memory of his touch. It wasn't the same as it had been before, when she'd felt as if she were fighting him all the time in her mind-whether he was physically present or not. "Whatever it is, it's the last Game," Jenny said. Don't even know what game you're playing." He answered as easily as if they'd been talking for hours. Jenny, devastatingly aware that her jeans were crunchy from drying wrinkled and her denim shirt looked as if she'd crawled through a chimney, said, "You invited me to come-and here I am."
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