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“Yeah, angel. I know.”
“Din viktigpetter,” I told him.
He wrinkled his nose. “What’s that mean?”
“It means you have a big head.”
He smiled again. “Yeah? Well, my heart’s even bigger, and every inch of it is yours.”
I grabbed his ears and pulled him in for one last kiss before we went downstairs.
When I first heard the name Win Sinclair, I hated it. I certainly never thought I’d follow him halfway across the world.
And now that I was here?
I was home.
