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<p class="excerpttext">Personal assistant, her eye. Every one of her mother&#8217;s personal assistants, and there had been many, were in reality the men who shared her bed. For once she couldn&#8217;t fault her mother&#8217;s taste, even if the selection surprised her. Usually, her mother stuck with the sort of fey and sycophantic man that danced at her beck and call. This man was so far from being a &#8220;Bruce&#8221; that whoever named him ought to be hauled in for child abuse.</p>
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