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Can we get out of here?””Your chariot awaits.””In the form of a blue Ford ute?” I curved my brow.”But of course,” he said in an over-the-top French accent.”Sacre blur, bad accent alert!””Wow,” he said, “Le rude?””Le sorry?””Le hurt.” Toby clutched his heart.”What can I do to soothe your shattered ego?”Toby drummed his chin thoughtfully, pacing around me. He stopped just near enough to whisper in my ear.”Le kiss?
