Isabelle Fernandez

49%
Flag icon
“Yes. I can smell the alcohol.” Tightness hampered her casual response. “Scotch…and perfume?” “Jealous?” Silk wrapped around my soft, mocking tone. “I have no reason to be.” She continued sketching, but the strokes were faster, angrier. “We’re just roommates.”
Twisted Lies (Twisted, #4)
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview