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When they arrived at the house Lucille had shared with Tiberius for years, Violet discovered that her mother was right. There were ten files pertaining to the stock acquisition. Two contained the paperwork for the stock Tiberius had purchased. The other eight contained information on family members he hadn’t yet contacted. Her interest rose as she read through Tiberius’s notes. Gaining another three percent wouldn’t be easy, but she had a notion of how it could be done. Not that it did her any good. She owned eighteen percent of a stock she could neither get rid of nor vote.
So, what the hell was she supposed to do with it? Better to ask, what would Tiberius want her to do with it?
The thought of becoming embroiled in the intrigue surrounding Stone Properties gave Violet a bad taste in her mouth. She was quite content with her own piece of the Las Vegas strip. From the second she’d been put in charge of Fontaine Chic, she’d known complete happiness. It was all she needed. She didn’t care if she won the contest their grandfather had created to decide which of the three Fontaine sisters would succeed him as CEO. Violet was realistic about her chances. With Harper’s education and hotel training, it was her contest hands down. Besides, it was her birthright. Just like Stone Properties was JT’s.
If only there was something Violet could do to make it so he could claim his rightful place. Not that he wanted her help. She dismissed that as insignificant. She needed to focus on keeping alive Tiberius’s plan to reclaim his family’s company. But how?
When the answer came, she was stunned by its simplicity and foolhardiness. She couldn’t. The idea was crazy. On the other hand, maybe crazy was what the situation called for.
And there was only one way she was going to know for sure.
* * *
JT was about to leave his usual spot in Baccarat and head back to his hotel when he spotted Violet approaching the bar. Tension he’d not been aware of released its grip on his muscles. He relaxed his clenched teeth and felt a scowl melt from his forehead.
Since finding out what his father had been up to with Stone Properties, he’d been frustrated and in great need of a confidante he could trust. He trusted Violet. Sharing his problems with her had eased his mind.
For the last five days she’d been absent from the lounge. Either she’d been detained by hotel business or she’d been avoiding him. Thinking she might be avoiding him had been a bitter pill to swallow.
He’d stepped across the line at their last meeting. Claiming her as family had pushed their association past the boundaries of casual acquaintances. But no matter how much it worried him that he might become dependent on her, he couldn’t stop craving her support.
To his unreasonable delight, the instant she entered the bar, her gaze sought his and she immediately headed his way. As she drew near, the spicy scent of her perfume preceded her and he had just enough time to draw a heady lungful before she sat beside him. Tonight’s black dress was a knee-length sheath with a deep scoop neckline that showed off the upper curves of her breasts. Keeping his attention on her face proved challenging as she gathered a deep breath before speaking.
“I’m glad you’re here tonight,” she said, her voice brisk, expression resolute.
He resisted the urge to remind her that he was here every night. She already had him eating out of the palm of her hand. Why give her more power?
“You look beautiful,” he told her, letting his gaze drift over her.
His compliment caused her to blink. “Thank you.” For a moment she looked as if she’d lost her train of thought.
Despite the bar’s low light, he spied a rush of color in her cheeks and noticed an uneven hitch to her breath. In that instant he realized she’d felt the impact of his attraction for her, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it.
The revelation inspired a rush of longing to touch her smooth skin, to pull her body tight to his and hear her sigh beneath his lips. He imagined sweeping his tongue across her breasts and hearing her cry out. Not seeing her these last few days had fueled his hunger for her. He’d spent far too much time pondering exactly how he would make love to her.
“JT, are you listening to me?”
He shook his head and dispelled the evocative images lingering there. “Sorry. I was distracted. Is that a new perfume you’re wearing?”
“It’s something Tiberius gave to my mother last Christmas. Since his death she can’t bear to wear it, but I love the scent so she gave me the bottle.”
“It’s nice,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” She paused and regarded him through narrowed eyes. “We went to Tiberius’s lawyer for the reading of his will a couple days ago.”
