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"Lingerie, huh? There are seven sets, one for each day, enough for you to enjoy slowly. What? Don’t like the styles? I’ll send you a few more sets then."
Nina Sinclair felt like spitting blood; she could almost imagine Sharon’s suggestive smile.
"No need, thanks!"
"Why not? You’re about to start making babies with your flash marriage husband. Before next month, you should successfully have a golden egg in your belly. By the time the scumbag’s engagement party comes ...
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