Cali  Massey

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“You must really like my pink hair,” I said, my voice cracking unexpectedly, “to go to all this trouble.” “I think it is beautiful,” he murmured, stroking liquid down the lengths of my strands, “as is the rest of you. But I do this for your happiness, not my own gratification. I would not care if you had red hair, blue hair, or none at all.”
Wrangled by the Alien Rancher (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #2)
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