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Emmanuel Saez

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“The digital revolution is not a spectator sport. It demands a proactive approach from all stakeholders, especially governments. By fostering a culture of continuous learning through a National Initiative for Education, we can unlock a future brimming with possibilities. Upskilling, reskilling, and cross-skilling will equip our workforce with the tools they need to not only adapt to the ever-evolving landscape but also leverage advanced technologies to become more productive, innovative, and competitive. A skilled and adaptable workforce is the cornerstone of a thriving digital economy. By empowering our citizens to embrace lifelong learning, we pave the way for a future where humans and machines work together, not just towards a brighter tomorrow, but a more prosperous and innovative one for all.”

“When she was his companion, her father had always felt himself stirred to interest and enterprise. "You ought to have been a man, Betty," he used to say to her sometimes. But Betty had not agreed with him. "You say that," she once replied to him, "because you see I am inclined to do things, to change them if they need changing. Well, one is either born like that or one is not. Sometimes I think that perhaps the people who must act are of a distinct race, a kind of vigorous restlessness drives them. I remember that when I was a child I could not see a pin lying upon the ground without picking it up or pass a drawer which needed closing without giving it a push. But there has always been as much for women to do as there is for men.”

“Lily Chadwick knew there was something different about the fiercely scowling gentleman the first moment she saw him. She could feel it. The instant their gazes met, caught, held, something skittered across her skin like a rain of white sparks. It entered her bloodstream, heating her from the inside until her breath became stilted and her knees went alarmingly weak. He stared at her from beneath a brow drawn low in a forbidding expression. His eyes were so dark, even the light of the glittering ballroom could not be reflected there. The angles of his face were hard, his jaw sharply defined, and he held his mouth in a harsh line that attempted to harden the full curve of his lower lip but didn't quite manage it. Lily tried to glance away demurely, but she couldn't seem to manage. She felt a flutter that became a tightening in her belly. Her heart stopped, skipped a few beats, then started up again in a frantic rhythm as he just kept watching her. Despite his severe, aloof appearance, something about him reached out to her, touching her with an intrinsic sort of recognition. It left her feeling as though she stood in the heart of a firestorm. She sensed with a certainty beyond rational explanation that his unyielding manner was a facade, as if he were a hero in some gothic novel. There was passion in him. She felt it in every quickened, prey-like breath she took while frozen under his intent stare. The silent interaction between them was becoming more inappropriate by the minute, yet she could not compel herself to break away. As though caught in an invisible trap, she stared back at him while her hands began to sweat and her stomach trembled.”

“She refused to feel guilty for not talking to Portia about the Earl of Harte. She couldn't discuss what she didn't understand, and she had no idea what to think of the man with the forbidding gaze. Avenell Slade. Lily snuggled deeper beneath her blankets. She loved the way his name felt moving through her mind. It was sharp and smooth at the same time. Dark and light. Lily knew she was no great beauty. She did not have Portia's dramatic dark hair or flashing eyes. Nor did she have Emma's commanding presence. She did her best to be content with her place among her exceptional sisters. But now, after experiencing Lord Harte's painful slight, she found herself wishing she stood out more, that she was somehow more attractive, more striking. She should forget him. Put him completely from her mind. He had made it infinitely clear he did not welcome her interest. Yet, she wanted to know him. It was that simple and that impossible. A hollowness spread from Lily's center. It was a sensation she had experienced more than once since she had begun her foray into the marriage market. It was the fear that what she sought might never be found- that the kind of deep passion she yearned for existed only in sordid novels. As thoughts of Lord Harte continued to agitate her mind and created a growing restlessness in her body, Lily imagined an often-read scene from one of her favorite stories. It was frighteningly easy to cast the enigmatic Lord Harte in the role of dark seducer, but she struggled to envision herself as the intrepid heroine. Lily did not possess a bold bone in her body. By nature, she had always been rather shy and had never been able to cultivate the kind of self-confidence her sisters possessed. Though she may crave the passionate experiences she read about, she did not possess the courage to explore such things beyond the privacy of her mind.”

“Tell me you did not spend all those nights with her and never spread her thighs to claim your prize.” A growl of fury rumbled from his chest at the crudity in her words, but the sound did not seem to bother Pendragon one bit. She actually laughed at his response. “Of course you did, my lord, as I knew you would. It was the final barrier you had yet to cross in your search for pleasure.” “It signifies nothing.” Her green eyes glittered. “It means everything.” The woman turned away from him and strode toward the chair he had recently vacated. With a swish of her skirts, she turned and lowered herself gracefully. Tipping her head, she looked at him with a superior little half smile. “What did you feel when you took possession of your gentle maiden?” Her words might have been mocking if not for her expression, which had settled into one of patient nonjudgemnet. It was the same way she had looked at him the first time he had gone to her. “Think carefully. What did you feel?” Avenell’s gut tensed as he involuntarily recalled the sensations of being burned within Lily’s warmth and softness. He relived in his mind the way their naked bodies moved together, heard her endless gasps and moans echo, felt the overwhelming heat, the pervading pleasure. Every time they came together it was intense and consuming, obliterating everything else in existence. That was the problem. He always felt too much with her. And despite that, he had never been able to shake his yearning for more.”