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... azor slicing down my spine. "What’s wrong, husband?"
"Don’t call me that." I put on my shirt and started buttoning it. "You drugged me."
She sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement and malice. "So what? You still have to take responsibility for me."
"I have a fiancée." The words came out hoarse, my throat dry. It felt like I’d been chewing on cotton balls.
Her hand shot out, nails digging into my wrist hard enough to leav ...
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