“She chose you in the first place, remember? She went after you.”

Harvey gave her a pensive look. “I know. But I’m still struggling with this. I wish I didn’t have doubts. I felt I couldn’t take the risk. Charles is so persuasive. He can charm the wings off bees. I imagined everyone would believe his version. He’d make them think I’m the thief. So that day I was sitting there, blood boiling as I stared at Charles, imagining my life without Rosalind and my girl, and it was torture, Ms. Simmons.”

Felicity could feel his pain radiating from him. That was the thing about fear—you couldn’t logic or reason it away. There was no cure for it. You had to be brave, or you would fall. And Harvey, poor man, wasn’t even close to the brave type.

“And that man who I’d thought of as a brother sat and smirked back at me,” Harvey said, his hands clenching into fists. “He knew. He’s always known this was my greatest fear, which was how he played me so well. It was chilling, the moment I realized there was nothing I could do. Any way that this scam got out, it could only have come from me. Then he’d hurt me. So he had me in a corner.”

Harvey’s voice broke. “It’s the most evil choice. I love my charity, but I love my family more. I was stuck…until you came along.”

“Excuse me? How do I factor into this?”

“I thought the stress would kill me waiting for the independent audit to be carried out, knowing already the Shenzhen orders would get flagged. It’s a long process, and it’d be many months away. Then you show up investigating every little thing, demanding answers, and I was so relieved. I thought if you worked it out, at least then when it all comes out, Charles would assume it was your doing, not mine, so he wouldn’t retaliate.”

“You could have just whispered it into my ear. I’d have been discreet.”

“I couldn’t trust you not to tell Charles how you knew. I didn’t even know you. No, you had to go on the hunt, look puzzled and frustrated so Charles would know this wasn’t my doing.” Harvey gave a tiny smile. “I’m sorry I put you through a merry chase, but I needed you to be suspicious enough to keep digging.”

Felicity froze as she realized what he’d done. “You were the anonymous emailer! You sent me Living Ruff’s next 990 form. It gave me a link between Living Ruff and Charles’s store.”

“Yes. Of course. Well, it was only a draft of the 990 I dashed off for you, but yes, I hoped you’d get the idea.”

“How did you get my email address?”

“You left your business card on the desk. Mrs. Brooks never took it. I heard what you asked her to do. I thought about it. I hoped you’d be smart enough to put it all together if I gave you a little nudge. And I did my best to look guilty every time we spoke to make you wonder what I was hiding. Not answering questions. Not confirming or denying things. Throwing you out of the office.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry about that. I found it quite traumatizing, raising my voice.”

“I did wonder what you were up to.” Felicity said in a dry tone.

“I do apologize. I knew you’d be seeing Charles sooner or later after that. So my biggest fear became that you’d accept at face value whatever story he told you. I worried he’d schmooze you completely and send you on your way with a neat, easily digestible tale for your boss. He’s so good. He can invent the most elaborate tales on the spot like it’s nothing.”

“Very true. The level of detail he gave me about your passion for merchandising was extensive.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Luckily, even Charles leaves loose ends: odd little lies, those made-in-America prototypes, and a destroyed factory I was able to fact-check with locals that was anything but.”

Harvey’s expression was bittersweet. “I’m glad you’re a determined, resourceful woman, Ms. Simmons. I was right in thinking you’d find the truth. But I also know that the moment you leave here tonight, police will be called, and I’ll lose my charity. I don’t deserve it anyway, being conned like that, but at least I’ll have my wife. Hell, I might even get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“You’re aware my calling the police will likely destroy Living Ruff? Charities linked to scandal rarely come back from it, even if it wasn’t their fault.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Much as I wish it weren’t the case, I know you need to see that Charles faces justice. I’m at peace with what’s about to happen. And please, please tell your boss I’m so very sorry I didn’t look after her donation as it deserved. I would do anything to turn back time.”

“Harvey,” Felicity said in exasperation, “what I don’t get is why didn’t you simply go to your wife and tell her you were being blackmailed by her brother? Surely if you talked to her first, all of this could be avoided.”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” came a low feminine voice behind them.

Harvey started, his head whipping around to face the door.

Felicity turned to see Rosalind leaning against the door’s frame, expression grim.

“H-how much did you hear?” Harvey asked, face paling.

“All of it.” Rosalind’s lips were a tight, angry line. “I came to listen in because I thought I might finally get some answers. Such as why you’ve been losing hair and weight, barely sleeping, and looking ten years older these days. Most of all, I needed to know why you’d stopped talking to me about anything personal.”

“I—” Harvey petered out.

“No.” She gave her husband a brisk, assessing look. “Being taken in by a scam thanks to my scheming brother is one thing. Not trusting me? Doubting my love for you? That is quite another.”

Harvey crumpled under her words, his shoulders sagging, his eyes tearing up.

Felicity retreated over to the tall windows to give them privacy. In the reflection, though, she could see the two clearly.

Rosalind’s face softened, her eyes darting toward Felicity’s back as if to check that no witnesses existed. Then she cupped Harvey’s cheek in her hand and said so softly that Felicity almost couldn’t hear. “You silly, beautiful man.” She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. “When will you ever believe me when I tell you no one has ever turned my head the way you do?”

Rosalind drew her fingertips down his cheek. “The fact that you were scammed by Charles only reinforces my belief that you’re too good for this world. You see only the best in everyone. You trust without reservation. Everywhere I turn, I see manipulators. They want my power, my money, my endorsement. I accept that this is my life, that it’s filled with people who only take. No one ever talks about the coldness that comes with having vast wealth. And then I come home to you.”

Harvey’s head lifted.

“That’s where I feel only warmth,” Rosalind continued in that soft, gentle voice. “And all you ever do is give.”

She leaned her forehead into his. “Yesterday I called and told you I’d had a terrible day. I came home to find the most beautiful smells from my favorite meal in the oven. The music I love most was playing, even though I know Vivaldi makes you groan. You asked if I’d prefer a foot or a back massage—as if the option of neither hadn’t even entered your head. Darling, I feel your love in every look and touch. I feel so much warmth. You are the reason I rush home early from all those charity balls and galas. You are my home. Don’t ever doubt that again. We will talk about this properly later, but right now I need a private word with Ms. Simmons.”

Harvey nodded, his hands reaching for his wife’s, which he squeezed for a long moment. Their gazes were locked. Then he croaked out: “Love, I really am so very sorry.”

“I know.” Her smile was sad. “I know you are.”

Felicity waited until she heard the door snick before turning. Rosalind had her back to her, still staring after her husband.

As long as she lived, Felicity would never forget what she’d just seen. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that a powerful, imposing woman might need a Harvey in her life. He seemed to recharge her emotional reserves. That’s why Rosalind loved her mild-mannered bookkeeper. Among other things, he kept her going when she was drained by a demanding world.

All the times Felicity had heard love described over the years, a concept she couldn’t really relate to, it had been in terms of shallow, unrealistic ideals. True loves. Wild passion. Rainbows and roses. Not…this.

Intensity. Warmth. Intimacy. Support. Finding ways to provide what the other lacks. A partnership. A…balance.

It was confusing, actually. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.

“Ms. Simmons,” Rosalind said, her voice cool and pointed as if she hadn’t just bared her soul to her husband. The tone contained a warning, too, as if daring her to even suggest she’d heard a word of that intensely private conversation.

Felicity would sooner die than admit it.

Rosalind sauntered into the middle of the library. “Thank you for solving a mystery that has been plaguing me for half a year: where my happy husband went.” She settled onto the couch cushion Harvey had just vacated.

Felicity joined her at the opposite end of the couch and waited.

“So now we have a problem to solve, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d have thought it has a pretty simple solution,” Felicity said. “I call the police. Harvey testifies against Charles as the victim in the scam. He also resigns from Living Ruff for his incompetence. Your brother goes to prison. The Living Ruff board appoints a new director. And Bartell Corp pursues Charles through the civil courts to get my boss’s donation back.”

Rosalind eyed her serenely. “I’m wondering if you’re open to other options.”