Kelli

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Another round of sparring pulled him away from the rooftops, a half-dozen fighters coming from all directions. Fighting dirty. A hand grabbing his hair, another at the waist of his trousers. A third with a club of some sort. He raised a brow. “Unsportsmanlike, that.” The brute grinned—revealing a handful of missing teeth, and took a swing.
Daring and the Duke (The Bareknuckle Bastards, #3)
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