Heather Walters

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Someone knocked. “Housekeeping.” My spine turned rigid at the familiar voice. Two seconds later, I threw open the door with a scowl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Christian arched an eyebrow. “Is that the proper way to greet your boss?” “Fuck you.” He laughed, but the sound lacked humor. “Charming as always. Now let me in so we can clean up your mess.”
Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)
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