Jess Smith

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She closed her eyes at the thought. Spectacles. There was nothing tempting about spectacles. She reached up to remove them. “No.” She stilled, her hand halfway to her face. “But—” “Leave them.” “They’re not—” she began. They’re not smoldering. They’re not seductive. “They’re perfect.”
One Good Earl Deserves a Lover (The Rules of Scoundrels, #2)
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