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“Excuse me, but was that Mr. Rhodes I just saw leave?”

“It was.”

“But I have the results of the election.”

“The stockholders are having lunch in the dining room. Perhaps you’d like to tell them what happened.” JT turned to go.

“Before you leave, Mr. Stone, you should know that your father was voted off the board.”

JT spun around and stared at the auditor, wondering if he’d heard correctly. Then, JT realized he was grinning like an idiot. “Explain it to him.” He indicated Brent. “I have more important things to take care of.”

Twelve

Violet was unpacking the last of her     personal items from her suite at Fontaine Chic when her husband strode through     the bedroom door. She glanced up as his presence filled the master suite and     made the very air crackle with energy.

“Hello, husband,” she said, her tone matter of fact. “Was your     trip successful?”

“You know damned well it was.” He tugged his tie loose and     shrugged out of his suit jacket. When he looked as if he planned to drop both     articles on a nearby chair, Violet moved to take them from him. A gentle     tug-of-war ensued between them. “I don’t need rescuing,” he murmured a second     before giving her the win.

“Not anymore,” she responded, her voice equally soft.

It was going to be all right, she realized as she hung up his     jacket and tie. He hadn’t demanded to know what she was doing in his house. He’d     simply accepted her presence. Her anxiety quieted.

She came out of the closet and found her husband had stripped     off his shirt and was working on his shoes. Her mouth went dry as she took in     all his chiseled perfection. Had it only been a week since they’d last made     love? The severe ache in her loins made it seem like a whole lot longer.

His socks landed in a pile next to his shirt as he commented,     “The FBI hauled my father in for questioning.” JT slipped off his pants. Clad     only in his boxer briefs, he carried his discarded clothes into the closet. “Any     idea what that was about?”

“You didn’t stick around to find out?”

“I was too busy chasing after my wife to care.” He reappeared     in fully naked glory and stood with his arms crossed, staring at her. “Perhaps     you can enlighten me.”

It was difficult for her to concentrate with her husband’s     flawless physique artlessly displayed for her perusal. Did he really intend to     stand there like that and have a serious discussion? Her blood heated as she     took in the rise and dip of his muscular arms and the flawless definition of his     rock hard abs.

“Perhaps you’d like to shower first and then we can talk?”     Violet suggested, hoping he’d take the hint that it was a conversation better     conducted without distractions.

“Actually, I’d like to hear what you have to say first.”

Damn him. Well, two could play at this game. She reached behind     her and took ahold of her dress’s zipper. His expression didn’t change as she     unfastened her dress, but when it pooled at her feet, she caught a minute     widening of his eyes.

“Charity Rimes finally returned our call a few days ago,” she     said, unfastening her bra and letting it fall to the ground. She shimmied out of     her underwear before continuing. “After Tiberius had contacted her, she’d been     intrigued about his theory that George Barnes had taken Preston Rhodes’s     identity and tracked down George’s high school yearbook.”

The entire time she was speaking, JT kept his gaze fixed on     hers, and off her naked form. He appeared utterly intent on what she was saying,     but there was one part of his anatomy with a mind of its own. To provoke it     further, Violet reached up and freed the pins holding her hair in a loose     topknot. It cascaded around her shoulders, the strands tickling her sensitive     nipples and turning them into hard buds. JT’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

“When she emailed me a copy of the photo from his graduation,     it was obvious that your father is not Preston Rhodes.”

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