Kaja Salsman

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“I can’t be late for work on my first day,” I tell him, pushing against his chest. His hands move to my waist, and he sends me the cutest pleading look. “Which part of ‘you own the company as much as I do’ did you not understand?” he asks, his voice soft, cajoling.
The Secret Fiancée (The Windsors, #5)
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