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All He Really Needs
Emily McKay


There's nothing a Cain can't doNo doubt about it, Griffin Cain makes love better than any man. Night after night his decadent, sensual acts turn conservative Sydney Edwards into a wanton woman. But all that stops when Griffin is made CEO of his family company…and becomes Sydney's boss.Griffin's father's desperate ultimatum has put a billion dollars and a legacy at stake, and now Griffin needs his forbidden lover's help more than ever—in the boardroom. As for the bedroom, why can't he have it both ways? Nothing will stop Griffin from getting Sydney back where she belongs.










He was her boss …

A few orgasms—earth-shattering or not—were not worth playing Russian roulette with her whole life.

“If we’re going to be working together,” she said, “this thing between us has to end. No candlelit dinners, no late-night phone calls … No sex.”

In response, Griffin threw back his head and laughed.

She set her jaw stubbornly. “I’m not joking.”

He pulled her toward him so she was standing between his outstretched legs and took her lips in a soul-searing kiss. The kind that almost ended up with him ripping off her clothes and devouring her until she came apart in his arms.

He smiled. “Well then, you let me know how that goes for you.”


Dear Reader,

When I first envisioned Griffin Cain, he was no more than the charming second brother in the Cain family. Characters often start like that for me, very one-dimensional. Still, I knew that he would have to become the CEO of the company one day. My critique partner, the fabulous Robyn Dehart, told me early on that he needed a goal beyond wanting to escape the mantle of responsibility. Of course she was right. She usually is. So I decided that this charming, seemingly irresponsible man was secretly involved with an international aid organization, just the kind of thing his father would disapprove of.

Of course, then I had to decide which international aid organization to model his imaginary charity after. My good friend Tracy Wolff suggested Water.org, a charity with which Matt Damon is heavily involved. I did a little research (i.e., wasted hours and hours online). I’m tremendously impressed with Water.org. That’s what inspired me to create Hope


O for Griffin.

I hope that a few of you who read this letter will check out Water.org and find out what great work they do. I made a donation in honor of the book and think it would be pretty cool if others did, too. If you want to give, too, you can check out my website or theirs for more information.

As always, I hope you enjoy this book and love Griffin and Sydney like I do!

Emily McKay




About the Author


EMILY McKAY has been reading romance novels since she was eleven years old. Her first Mills & Boon


book came free in a box of Hefty garbage bags. She has been reading and loving romance novels ever since. She lives in Texas with her geeky husband, her two kids and too many pets. Her debut novel, Baby, Be Mine, was a RITA


Award finalist for Best First Book and Best Short Contemporary. She was also a 2009 RT Book Reviews Career Achievement nominee for Series Romance. To learn more, visit her website, www.EmilyMckay.com.




All He

Really Needs

Emily McKay







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For the men and women involved with charitable

organizations around the world. They give their time,

their work and their money to improve the lives of

others. They are the real heroes.




One


Griffin Cain certainly knew how to make love to a woman.

This was not the first time that thought had flittered through Sydney Edward’s mind. Indeed, it wasn’t even the first time today she’d thought it. Oh, the things he did to her body—the decadent, sinful, exquisite things he did.

But that was Griffin all over. Decadent. Sinful. Exquisite.

And so completely, totally opposite from her. Even now—four months into their clandestine relationship—she could hardly believe the things he did to her. The things she let him do to her. No, to be fair, the things she begged him to do.

Begged. Her, Sydney Edwards.

The most staid, conservative, responsible person she knew. And she was putty in his hands. One of which was, even now, tracing enticing swirls across her naked hip.

“I should go,” she muttered, attempting to roll away from him.

“No.” The sound that emanated from Griffin’s throat was low and possessive, more of a growl than a word. His hand slipped over her hip to rest low on her belly as he pulled her back against him. “Not yet.”

“I’m already late for work.” But even she didn’t believe her protestations. Not when his fingers were slipping down into the curls between her legs. Not when her back was automatically arching so that the moist center of her desire tilted toward him.

“Then be late,” he grumbled, nipping at her shoulder with his teeth.

They had had sex twice last night and once already this morning. Normally, she didn’t stay over at his condo. So, normally, she was back at home, showered and de-Griffined, long before she had a chance to be late for work.

But Griffin had just returned from an overseas trip the night before. He’d had a different trip just prior to that one. In short, lately he’d been gone entirely too much for her taste.

Not that she needed him.

Not that she even really missed him.

It was just that … well, she craved his touch. Which was not at all the same thing as missing him.

Sydney knew that her relationship with Griffin was odd. Contrary to her very nature, even.

They spent very little time together outside of bed. In bed, he lavished her body with attention. So much so that she might have worried she’d become addicted to his touch—if she was the kind of person who allowed herself the weakness of having addictions.

Besides, she was twenty-seven. She was young and healthy. It would be unnatural for her not to be attracted to someone like Griffin. She wasn’t the least bit worried that she might become too attached. After all, this was Griffin Cain. Charming playboy. Office flirt. The heir to one-third of the Cain fortune. All in all, an unlikely match for her.

So she wasn’t worried that, last night, as soon as she’d gotten his text that he’d landed at Houston International Airport, she’d climbed out of bed and come straight to his downtown condo to meet him. And it had been late. So of course she’d bent her personal rule about staying over. No one wanted to drive home at three in the morning.

And she wasn’t even particularly worried about her inability to muster anxiety about being late to work.

Still, she tried to fool him, even if she couldn’t fool herself.

“It’s all well and good for you to be late to work. You’re Griffin Cain. Your family owns the company. People will forgive you anything.”

“And I just got in from Norway.”

“I thought it was Sweden.” As if it made a difference. He was always getting back from some exotic location or heading off to some other.

“Your boss isn’t even coming in today,” Griffin murmured.

His fingers found the nub of her desire, stroking her in a way that made her tremble and ache all over again.

The rational part of her brain lodged a vain protest. She should be stronger than this. She should have some shred of willpower where he was concerned. But she wasn’t and she didn’t.

Besides, once more wouldn’t hurt.

The heat of his erection stroked her moist folds. He was so close. All she had to do was rotate her hips and wiggle to accommodate him from behind. He’d take her fast and hard. One movement from her and they could both have what they needed.

She arched her back, ready to give herself over to her desire, but instead, he rolled her over onto her back. He pinned both her hands over her head with one hand and stroked her folds with the other, making her arch and moan.

“Open your eyes.” The gentle tone of his voice didn’t make it any less of a command.

She kept her eyes firmly closed, willing his fingers to move more quickly, to push her over the edge.

But he stilled. She knew he was teasing her until she gave him what he wanted. She rocked her hips, bumping against his hand and against the length of his erection. Digging her heels into the mattress, she pushed her hips up, wanting to drive him in.

“Open your eyes,” he said again, somehow touching her, teasing her, yet staying out of reach.

She gritted her teeth as she opened her eyes. She wanted to glare at him for forcing her hand, but sexual desire made her languid and weak. Her protestation came out as a groan of satisfaction.

Griffin leaned over her, his usually relaxed smile stretched into a grimace of restraint. He’d teased her, but it had cost him. He was torturing himself, too. It made her smile, that fierce expression—knowing how hard it was for him to restrain himself.

He muttered a curse and plunged into her. She met his every thrust, her gaze on his the whole time, until she felt his control shatter and his own eyes closed. Only then did she let her climax wash over her.

His body was hot and heavy on hers, but the sensation was not unpleasant. She was satisfied. Not just her body but her pride. She may need him, but he needed her just as badly.

He rolled off her and this time, when he pulled her against him, she didn’t resist. He was right. Her boss, Dalton Cain, wasn’t coming in today. He had had nothing on the schedule today anyway, no meetings to move around, no appointments to jostle. For once, her plate was blessedly bare. No one would miss her.

Even though she was late for work already, even though she still needed to shower and eat before heading in, she let herself fall asleep. Partly because she was exhausted and sated as she rarely had been and partly because her realization brought her a sort of peace.

Griffin should have been exhausted, but he wasn’t. Just as he should no longer have the energy to desire Sydney, but he did.

Despite his fatigue, Griffin couldn’t sleep. He was still on Norway time. Or was it Sweden? He’d traveled so much recently, he barely knew where he was or where he’d been.

So he did what he always did when he couldn’t sleep. He turned on the TV and poured himself a bowl of cereal. The marshmallows in his Lucky Charms were just starting to soften when the doorbell rang. For the life of him, he couldn’t guess who it might be.

He opened the door to see his brother, Dalton, standing in the hall. Dalton, who normally looked like he’d wandered straight out of a Brooks Brothers’ ad, was dressed in a slightly wrinkled shirt and jeans. Jeans, for Christ’s sake. Griffin hadn’t even been sure Dalton owned jeans. But there he was. And the poor guy looked worn-out. Like the past few days had beaten the crap out of him and left him in an alley somewhere.

Unsure how else to greet his brother, Griffin said, “Hey, you’re up early.”

Dalton’s gaze drifted from Griffin’s bare feet to the pajama bottoms he’d pulled on not five minutes ago before finally landing the cereal bowl on the table in front of the TV.

“I’m not up early,” Dalton said drily. “It’s nearly noon.”

Nearly noon. Crap, he really had kept Sydney here way longer than he should have.

At the thought of Sydney, Griffin’s gaze jerked to Dalton. Dalton was her boss. And—as far as they knew—Dalton didn’t know that his brother and his assistant were sleeping together. Griffin didn’t think that Dalton would mind, but hell, what did he know?

Feigning casual, Griffin leaned back to glance at the clock on the TV, then he scoffed. “It’s 11:05 a.m. That’s not nearly noon. And I just got back from the Middle East last night.” Or was it Norway? Or Sweden? Crap.

He could only hope that because he didn’t remember where he’d been, Dalton didn’t, either. Sweden—or Norway—first for a meeting with Bergen Petro and then down to Yemen for another meeting. No more than a day for each of those trips. Then he’d taken two personal days for a long weekend down to Rwanda. No one from Cain Enterprises knew about Rwanda, but for him it had been the most important part of the trip.

He was secretly involved with an international aid organization called Hope2O. He’d been in Rwanda on behalf of Hope2O working to set up a water district there.

He traveled all over the world for his job. Of course, no one at Cain Enterprises knew he worked with Hope2O. The Cains were allowed to donate to certain charitable organizations, but the family members rarely came into contact with actual poverty. That kind of dirty work was beneath them. To the Cains, compassion was weakness. He didn’t want anyone in the family—not even his brother—to know just how “weak” he was.

He walked back toward the sofa. “Hey, you want something to eat?”

“No, thank you.” Dalton shut the door and followed him in.

“You want some coffee?” Griffin asked.

“Yes. Please.”

Griffin headed for the coffeemaker. Though his condo boasted a gourmet kitchen, mostly it went unused. It was galley-style, open to the living room, outfitted in honed black granite and hickory cabinetry. His housekeeper kept it stocked with the essentials. Coffee, cereal, fresh milk, cold cuts and bread.

He punched a few buttons on his Saeco Espresso machine and let it work its magic. It made a single, perfect cup of coffee at a time, but it was damn slow.

Glancing out into the living room, he saw that Dalton had his elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands. The guy looked whipped—which was something Griffin would never have thought possible.

Dalton had spent his entire life dancing to their father’s tune, and until today, Griffin would have sworn he was fine with it. Cooper was the opposite. He was Hollister’s illegitimate son. He had almost nothing to do with the family at all.

The closest he himself had come to bowing to Hollister’s will was accepting the job he currently held at Cain Enterprises. Because Cain Enterprises—a conglomerate of oil, land development and banking—operated mostly in the United States, there wasn’t a lot of international marketing to do. It was a cush job. One that Hollister had created solely to lure Griffin to work for him. Hollister liked having his sons firmly under his control. Griffin liked the fat paycheck and the international travel. And he’d never once envied Dalton his position as heir to the family business.

Dalton was the company leader, Cooper was the family outsider and Griffin was just the guy who met everyone’s lowest expectations. Until recently, everyone had been happy with that.

A little more than a week ago, Hollister—who was practically on his death bed—had called them all to his side. Apparently news of his impending demise had reached the outside world. Some lover he’d scorned long ago had sent him a nasty anonymous letter informing him that he had a daughter he’d never known. The woman who’d written the letter wanted him to die knowing he’d never find the girl.

A letter like that wasn’t something Hollister would take lying down. So, he’d issued a challenge: whichever of his sons found the missing heiress would inherit all of Hollister’s wealth. If no one found her, all his money and his share of Cain Enterprises would revert to the state.

Yeah, Griffin was pissed off that their father was trying to manipulate them all like this, but he wasn’t particularly worried. The way he saw it, Dalton was highly motivated to find the heiress. He had the most to lose.

If Dalton’s weary appearance now was any indication, the search for their long-lost sister was not going well.

As far as Griffin knew, Dalton had been working full-time the past week to try to find the heiress. That was why he’d texted Sydney that he wouldn’t be coming in today.

Ah, crap.

For the first time since Dalton showed up on his doorstep, Griffin considered how Sydney would react if she realized her boss was there. Though they’d been together for four months now, she’d insisted they keep their relationship a secret.

Especially from Dalton.

And here he was about to serve Dalton coffee. As if the machine could read his mind and make coffee, it emitted a series of seductive beeps to indicate Dalton’s drink was ready.

Griffin came out of the kitchen and set a mug on the table in front of Dalton. “So,” he said, clapping his hands together to hide his nerves. “What brings big brother D to my humble abode in the middle of the day?”

Jesus. Big brother D? Why had he said that? He sounded like a jerk. Thankfully, Dalton didn’t seem to notice.

Dalton reached for the coffee. “I think the real question is why you’re not at work in the middle of the day.”

“Hey, jet lag’s a bitch.” Suddenly it occurred to him that as long as Sydney didn’t come out of the bedroom, he had no reason to be nervous. It wasn’t as if Dalton would wander in there on his own. Griffin purposefully stretched his mouth into a salacious grin, just to make sure Dalton knew he wouldn’t be welcomed into the condo’s private quarters.

As if on cue the shower cranked on in the other room.

“Oh,” Dalton said, finally putting together what should have been perfectly obvious.

Griffin glanced at the bedroom door and then back at Dalton. This was the moment of truth.

Sydney took quick, efficient showers. She was efficient about everything except sex. Five minutes max. Another two to dress. Which meant in seven minutes or less, she’d wander out of his bedroom with damp hair, dressed in clothes that had spent the night crumpled on the floor.

Then, one of two things would happen. Dalton would be cool with it, and Sydney would realize their being together just wasn’t that big a deal. Or she would freak. And that would mean the end of their relationship. No more enthusiastic welcomes home. No more warm body beside him in bed. No more mindblowing sex. He wasn’t willing to give up any of those things.

When he noticed Dalton looking at him, he forced a smile. “Give me a second, will you?”

Dalton nodded. “Take your time.”

Griffin crossed the bedroom, made a quick detour through the closet to change clothes and grabbed his keys before heading for the bathroom. Sydney had the hot water cranked all the way up, and steam churned out of the glass-brick shower. The wavy glass distorted the killer curves she normally kept hidden beneath conservative clothes. She wasn’t the kind of woman who showed off her body, but she didn’t seem to mind being naked, either. He loved watching her shower. Unfortunately, this time it couldn’t end with them going back to bed.

Still he couldn’t resist propping his shoulder against the doorway of the walk-in shower and enjoying the open sensuality of her movements and the heavy, relaxed, deep breaths she took as she scraped her nails over her scalp. She gave her hair a final rinse and turned off the faucet, reaching for a towel.

As she dabbed the towel over her face, she realized he was watching, and her lips tipped upward in a smile. “Stop it. You know I have to get to work.”

“I know.”

She wrapped the towel around her chest, tucking the corner in to secure it, and then grabbed a second towel off the rack before edging past him into the bathroom proper.

Even though her smile was relaxed and her words teasing, there was something guarded in her expression. But maybe that was to be expected. She’d made it clear when they first got involved that this was a just-sex kind of relationship. Nothing more. Which was perfect because he was a nothing-more kinda guy.

Still, leaving before his girl even got out of the shower was a little harsh, even for a nothing-more kinda guy.

She bent over at the waist to wrap her shoulder-length auburn hair into one of those turban things only women seemed to be able to manage, then straightened, frowning. “What’s up?”

He fished a house key out of his pocket and set it on the bathroom counter beside the contact case and tiny toiletry bag she carried in her purse. “I have to head out. Lock up when you leave?”

Her frown deepened. “Wait. I don’t want … I mean, why …”

He didn’t give her more time to protest but gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t worry. You can give it back to me the next time you see me. Stay as long as you want. There are muffins or you can find something in fridge. Marcella always leaves stuff like that.”

“But …” she tried to protest again.

He pretended to misunderstand. There was no point in her getting upset before he knew what Dalton wanted. “Text me later tonight and let me know what your plans are.”

She caught up with him just shy of the bedroom door and stopped him with a hand to the arm and an unwavering stare. “What’s going on?”

Her stare did him in. Something about her warm brown eyes made it impossible for him to lie to her. “Dalton stopped by. We’re going to lunch.”

“Dalton? Dalton, my boss?”

He grinned, partly hoping to disarm her and partly because her shock was amusing. “You know any other Daltons?”

“Do you think he’s here because he knows about us?”

“No,” he said, perfectly honestly. “I think he’s here because he’s up to his neck in this crap our dad has dumped on him. He may be your boss, but he’s also my brother.” He dropped another kiss on her mouth. “Don’t worry, he’ll never know you were here. I’ll take care of it.”

Then, because he just couldn’t resist, he gave her ass a squeeze beneath the towel before leaving the room. She had a great ass. He only hoped that Dalton showing up today hadn’t spooked her so badly he never saw it again.

She was going to kill Griffin. What the hell did he mean, he’d take care of it? Was he going to take care of it like he took care of that pothos ivy that had been slowly dying in his living room? Or like he took care of … Well, crap, she couldn’t even be properly indignant because she couldn’t very well rant against his lax attitude toward taking care of things because as far as she knew, he had absolutely no responsibilities in life other than keeping that damn potted plant alive. And he appeared to be failing at that.

For several stunned minutes, Sydney stood there beside the door, listening to the murmur of voices from the other side. She could distinguish none of the words and barely registered the tone. But she tried because somehow it seemed deathly important that she hear every nuance of their conversation.

Which was ridiculous because this probably had nothing to do with her. Dalton had a lot on his plate right now. She knew that better than anyone. She was one of the few people with whom Dalton could even discuss the missing heiress. For the previous week, he’d asked her to hand her normal workload off to someone else on the support staff so that she could devote her time to doing legwork in the search.

She and Griffin had never discussed the missing heiress, but it made perfect sense he’d be worried about it. His livelihood was also at stake. The entire company was at risk. Her job, too, now that she thought about it.

So of course Dalton would need to talk to Griffin. That made perfect sense. Totally, completely logical.

Still, she kept her ear pressed to the door until she heard Dalton and Griffin leaving the apartment. After that, she dressed quickly, barely giving herself time to towel dry her hair and apply a quick, but necessary, coat of mascara before grabbing her purse on her way out. But she stopped short with her hand on the front door of Griffin’s apartment.

Crap. The key.

Going back to the bathroom her steps were slower. The key to Griffin’s condo sat on the marble countertop, the brass gleaming against the black-veined white marble. She stared at it for a long minute.

“Ugh. Stop being such a wimp. It’s just a key.”

She grabbed it and stalked to the front door, carefully locking the door before dropping the key into the change pocket of her wallet as she walked down the hall to the elevator. She pointedly did not put it on her key chain. It wasn’t that kind of key. She and Griffin didn’t have that kind of relationship.

No, they had a very casual, sex-only kind of thing. A no-key-exchange kind of relationship.

She punched the down button with a tad more force than was necessary. She was just being responsible. Like when they’d first started sleeping together and he’d presented her with the test results of his most recent physical, proof that he was drug and disease free. At first, she felt weird about it. Like it was wrong having that kind of information about someone she barely knew—even someone she was sleeping with. Sure, the information was nominally about sex. But there was other information in there, too. She now knew his cholesterol number and that his last tetanus shot was in 2010—from the time he’d gotten snagged with a hook while deep-sea fishing, she’d later learned.

But she hadn’t wanted to know about the tetanus shot any more than she’d wanted to know the origin of the tiny scar on the side of his neck. Any more than she’d wanted a key to his apartment.

Which was why, when she got out to her car, she sat there for several minutes, sucking in deep, panic-reducing breaths.

What was she doing?

When was she going to stop fooling herself?

Sex with Griffin was a bad idea. Very bad.

When they’d first started sleeping together, it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea. It hadn’t even seemed like an idea. More like … an accident. Like when she’d accidently adopted her cat, Grommet. She’d come home to find the poor, malnourished kitten huddled on her front porch to stay out of the rain. She couldn’t just leave the pathetic tabby there, so she brought him inside. But he was wormy and sick and even had to have part of his tail amputated. The vet had recommended putting him down instead of taking him to the shelter. A thousand dollars plus weekly allergy shots later and she was the proud owner of the ugliest cat on earth.

Sleeping with Griffin was kind of like that.

Except not at all. Because Griffin wasn’t pathetic and he wasn’t tame and she most definitely was not allergic to him.

But when it came to adopting Grommet, she hadn’t meant to keep him. It was supposed to be just for one night. That’s what she’d told herself about Griffin, too.

Last summer, in the middle of a record heat wave, fresh on the heels of an awful breakup with her fiancé, Brady, she’d slept with Griffin.

It was Brady’s fault, really. Nine months before their wedding—a date it had taken him two years to agree upon—he’d reconnected with his high school girlfriend on Facebook. He’d apologized profusely for breaking up with Sydney. But how could she feel anything past the burning indignation of finding out the guy she’d been with for six years was in love with another woman? So much in love that he quit his job and moved halfway across the country to be with her, when he hadn’t even wanted to sell his condo to move into Sydney’s house once they were engaged.

She’d wanted to punch him. It was the first and last time in her twenty-seven years of life that she wanted to do physical violence to another human being.

Instead, she’d calmly emptied the single drawer he’d allotted her in his condo and done the same for the few items he kept at her house. The whole exchange had required only two empty cardboard boxes. She hadn’t even had to take a day off work. And she’d told herself she was fine. Fine.

She’d continued being fine right up until the point she’d stumbled onto a Facebook post about Brady’s wedding through a mutual friend. Then, all of a sudden, she hadn’t been fine anymore. Less than thirty-six hours after Brady married another woman, she did the unthinkable. When she’d run into Griffin Cain in the coffee shop half a block from Cain Enterprises, she’d typed her number into his cell phone. Yes, he’d been flirting with her since she’d hired on at Cain Enterprises. He flirted with everyone. She’d never dreamed she’d be one of his conquests.

Griffin was handsome and charming. With his shaggy, dark-blond hair and ocean blue eyes, he looked better suited to professional surfing than international business. His crooked smile and sexy dimples had all the women in the office swooning.

Still, she’d been sure she’d be able to resist him, despite all the times he wandered into Dalton’s office and propped his hip on the corner of her desk to flirt with her while he waited for Dalton to come to or from some meeting. Despite the way he’d occasionally bring her gourmet coffee and drop it off at her desk with a salacious wink as he headed for Dalton’s office. Despite all that, she knew she could resist him because she knew he treated all the women in the office that way.

And she hated that kind of crap. And she hated people who coasted by on their good looks almost as much as she hated people who got by on their family name. Griffin was the triple-whammy of things she despised in the business world.

Of all the men she knew, he was the guy she was least likely to get romantically involved with. Which was precisely what made him appealing to her after Brady dumped her. She’d been emotionally bruised and battered. When she ran into him that morning at the coffee shop, when he turned on that classic Griffin Cain charm, she did the unthinkable. She decided to sow her own wild oats.

She hadn’t really believed she had any wild oats in her. They certainly had never floated to the surface of her psyche before. But Griffin had somehow gotten the damn things to sprout.

The one night she’d planned on allowing herself with Griffin had turned into a weekend. And then into a month. And then into four.

The brief sexual encounter was no longer brief. She’d managed to keep it purely sexual, but it was no longer uncomplicated. A mere call from him had her leaving her house in the middle of the night for a rendezvous. She’d stayed over at his place. Showered in his shower. Missed a morning of work. And now she had a key to his frickin’ condo.

It was time to stop fooling herself. She wasn’t just having sex with Griffin. She was acting like an addict. And it was time to go cold turkey.




Two


Griffin took a sip of his coffee, looking from the file in front of him to Dalton sitting across the table. He’d coaxed Dalton out of his condo and down the block to his favorite little Argentinean café. Once their coffee had arrived, Dalton had pushed a file folder across the table to him. And then he’d dropped a bomb.

“What do you mean, you’re done?” Griffin asked.

“Done.” Dalton leaned back against the booth’s red vinyl upholstery.

“Like, done? Like, you’re not searching for her anymore?”

“Exactly.”

“What, you want me to take over?” Hollister expected them to search for the heir separately. But he hadn’t expressly ordered them not to work together. “I’ve got a trip scheduled for next week, but after that—”

“I’m done.” Dalton leaned forward. “I’m not looking for her anymore. I’m not jumping through any more of Hollister’s damn hoops. I’m out.”

“Fine. You need me to handle this, I’ll handle it. You know how I feel about Hollister’s games. I’ll pass on to you whatever I find.”

“When I say I’m out, I mean I’m out for good. I’m not searching for the Cain heiress. I don’t want Hollister’s damn prize. I’m stepping down as CEO. I’m passing the torch to you.”

“To me?” Griffin dropped the folder like it had caught fire. “I don’t want Cain Enterprises.”

“Neither do I.”

“Of course you do. This is what you’ve wanted your whole life. Every—”

“Right. Everything I’ve ever done has been for Cain and what has it got me? Nothing. So this morning I submitted my resignation.”

“You what?” Griffin recoiled from Dalton’s words.

“I resigned,” Dalton said simply. “I recommended the board name you interim CEO. I can’t guarantee they will, but I talked to Hewitt, Sands and Schield personally. I think they’ll be able to sway the others. Now—”

“You quit?”

“I resigned.” Dalton looked like he might bust out laughing. “Try to keep up.”

“You can’t quit.” Great. His brother finally developed a sense of humor and it turned out to be sick and twisted. “Cain Enterprises needs you. More than ever with Hollister sick.”

“I agree. Cain Enterprises needs a strong leader. But you can be that leader just as easily as I can.”

And that’s where Dalton was dead wrong.

Dalton had been preparing for this job his whole life. Griffin, however, had spent his whole life waiting to take his inheritance and get out of the business. “Even if I wanted to, I’m not prepared to be the CEO. I don’t—”

“My assistant knows everything that goes on in the office. If there’s anything you don’t know, she can bring you up to speed. I know you haven’t worked much with Sydney in the past, but she’s top-notch. She’ll take good care of you.”

Shock must have made his esophagus seize because the sip of coffee Griffin had just taken went straight into his lungs, damn near choking him.

“I don’t … You can’t …” Griffin shook his head. Dalton was stepping down? And he was saying that Sydney would take care of him? The irony was just too much. For years he’d been phoning it in for his job at Cain Enterprises. Just biding his time until he could walk away free and clear. He’d stayed with the company out of duty and because if Hollister knew where his interests really lay, he’d be cut off without a dime. And now, after all this time, Dalton wasn’t just giving him more responsibility, he was handing him the entire damn company. “What the hell brought this on? And what on earth are you going to do if you’re not the leader of Cain Enterprises?”

“I’m going to win the heart of the woman I love.”

Okay. So Dalton had officially gone crazy.

“You’re what?” He sat back, waving aside his question. “Never mind,” he said darkly. “I know who’s to blame for this. Laney.”

Dalton’s mouth curved into a sappy smile. “Yeah. Laney.”

Griffin muttered a curse. “You’re throwing away everything for a woman?”

“Laney’s not just—”

“Yeah. I’m sure. Laney’s delightful. Frickin’ wonderful.” He leaned forward and tapped the center of the table to emphasize his point. “I’ve always liked Laney. And even when we were kids I saw that she was special to you. So if you want to be with her, then be with her. But don’t throw away everything you’ve worked for all your life over it.”

Dalton shot him a look that was somewhere between annoyed and amused. “I never thought I’d say this, but you sound remarkably like our father.”

“God, I hope not.” Griffin leaned back and blew out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be happy, it’s just that …”

He had a lot on his plate right now. In the next month alone, he had two trips to Guatemala planned and one more to Africa. The project in Rwanda was at a critical stage and it was the first in that country. On Griffin’s most recent visit, he’d made inroads to get the project financed by a local bank, but if he didn’t get back down there soon, it might all fall through. The simple truth was, he didn’t have time to be CEO.

Griffin set down his coffee cup to see Dalton watching him with that slightly dazed look people in love usually wore. Griffin wanted to leap across the table and strangle some sense into his brother. “Did it ever occur to you that I might have better things to do?”

For nearly a full minute Dalton just stared at him. Then Dalton burst out laughing, and didn’t speak for another minute until he stopped. “Better things. Nice one.”

Griffin unclenched his jaw. “I’m serious. I just happen to be busy right now.”

Dalton took a lazy sip of coffee and shrugged. “There’s nothing you do as VP of International Marketing that can’t be done by someone else.”

That was probably true. His job at Cain required very little. He liked it that way because it left his hours free for his work with Hope2O. And the occasional dalliance with a beautiful woman … such as Sydney.

But Dalton wasn’t buying his busy schedule as an excuse, so Griffin changed tactics. “Look, you don’t really want to step down at CEO. It’s who you are. You’re the guy who takes care of business. You’re the guy who’s going to find this missing heiress.”

And until this moment, Griffin had believed that. He hadn’t had even a shadow of a doubt that Dalton would find the heiress and, as a result, win the entire Cain fortune as his prize. But he knew his brother. Dalton was fair to a fault. He wouldn’t take the money and run. Once Dalton had secured the Cain fortune, he would carefully divide it up among the three—or four—of them. However, if Dalton backed out of things now, then they were all screwed, Griffin included.

Dalton smiled. “Well, it’s time for you to step up and become that guy because I’m not him anymore.”

The problem was, he wasn’t that guy, either. Ever since he was a kid he’d been hiding his true nature from his family.

He was—and this was a direct quote from Hollister—a pansy-assed do-gooder with a heart of gold. That was a hell of an insult to hear at age nine, especially from the father he worshipped like a god.

So—since he was nine—Griffin had been hiding who he was, had been hiding the fact that he cared about the quality of life of other people in the world. Even the people who didn’t contribute to Cain Enterprise’s bottom line. And he would continue to hide it.

The bleeding-heart liberal born into a Texas oil family. The ugly duckling had nothing on him.

Before now, all he had to do was keep his head down and try to blend in. Now, Dalton expected him to take over. He was going to do the only thing left to do. He would find the heiress. If he controlled his father’s fortune, he could walk away from the day-to-day running of the company. He could devote himself full-time to Hope2O or anything else that struck his fancy. In short, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

By the time Sydney arrived at the office, she’d managed to calm herself down enough to pass for normal. Now more than ever, she wanted to continue impressing Dalton with her competence and trustworthiness.

If her experience with Brady had taught her anything, it was that she had to depend on herself. When it came down to it, she was alone in the world. She had herself and whatever stability her job provided. That was it. She couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted by a man again.

Certainly not one of the Cains.

She spent the afternoon at her desk, answering what email of Dalton’s she could, and then catching up on the work she’d missed that morning.

It killed her knowing that Dalton and Griffin were out together at lunch, even if she never came up in their conversation. It was a bad omen, like a comet flitting across the sky to herald the impending arrival of a horrible natural disaster.

The two halves of her world were on a collision course and she wasn’t sure how to brace herself for impact.

So she should have been relieved when two o’clock rolled around and the door to the office finally creaked open. Hoping Dalton had decided to come in after all, Sydney leaped to her feet, ready to greet her errant boss.

But it wasn’t Dalton who walked into the room. It was Griffin.

Her heart thudded and she had to fight the sudden and completely irrational urge to bolt. There were three doors in her office. One led to Dalton’s office, another to the conference room. Griffin now blocked the door into the hall, but she could easily flee through the conference room. And, yeah, she knew how ridiculous it was that she wanted to.

But the simple truth was, Griffin wasn’t supposed to be part of her work life. He was the stuff of fantasies, and fantasies should have the common courtesy to stay out of the workplace.

As if Griffin knew exactly what was going on in her head, he flashed her a wry smile. He was carrying a thick manila folder and he looked like he’d spent considerable time running his hands through his hair. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Then she cringed at how breathless she sounded. Hi seemed too informal. Too reminiscent of the way she’d greeted him last night when she’d thrown herself into his arms. She tried again, aiming for cool professionalism. “I mean, hello. Can I do something for you?”

He could clearly tell she was flustered because his smile widened. This was just like him. He loved to tease her.

But then his smile faltered as he reached back to close the door to the office. “Did you talk to Dalton before I showed up?”

“No.” Something about the way he held himself made her nervous. Like maybe this was more than him just messing with her. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong exactly …. Have you checked your email?”

“I did when I first got in, but that was a couple of hours ago.” Most of the emails that needed her attention came through Dalton’s in-box, so she didn’t check her own email nearly as often.

“You should check again.” He flash a wry smile as he said it, but he looked pained rather than amused—like the one man on the Titanic who knew how few lifeboats there were.

Without another word, she pulled up her email on her computer. Ten new emails since she’d last checked. She opened only the one from Dalton. She had to read it twice. And then read it again just to be sure.

Then her eyes found Griffin. “He’s resigning?” Then her gaze dropped back to the email and she read it again, sure she’d misread it. Sure she had. “He can’t resign! This is crazy.” Then she looked back at Griffin. “Did you know he was going to do this?”

“Not until lunch.”

“He can’t resign,” she repeated, this time more numbly.

Of course, he could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like he was legally obligated to come to work. He wasn’t a prisoner. But still … Dalton was completely devoted to Cain Enterprises. In the eight months she’d worked with him, he’d worked eighteen-hour days. Weekends. Holidays. Cain Enterprises was his entire life.

“Maybe he’s earned it,” she said, barely aware she was speaking aloud. And then her eyes saw the tiny detail that they’d glossed over until now. “Wait a second. It says he’s recommending you for the position of interim CEO.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said.”

“And that he wants me to retain my current position. So that I can fill you in.”

“Yeah. He assured me he was leaving me in good hands.”

Her gaze sought his. “He’s leaving you in my hands?”

Griffin grinned. “Yeah. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Feeling suddenly jittery, she shot to her feet. “No, it’s not ironic! It’s …” But she couldn’t think of the word for what it was.

Unthinkable.

Disastrous.

Humiliating.

Griffin held out a hand as if to ward off her growing panic. “Hey, calm down. This is no big deal.”

“No big deal?” Her voice came out a little squeaky and high-pitched. “My boss—the leader of this company—just quit and left me in charge.”

“Technically, he left me in charge.”

“Oh, really? And what exactly do you know about the day-to-day running of the business?”

“Not much because—”

“Exactly. You don’t know much because you’re always jaunting off to some exotic location to do ‘business.’” She put the bunny ears around the word. But then she immediately felt like a bitch. She was acting horribly. It was just that she didn’t like change and she hated having the rug pulled out from under her. She was stressed and scared and she was taking it out on Griffin.

She dropped back into her chair and ran a hand over her face. “I’m sorry. That was …”

“Uncalled for?” he offered helpfully.

“I was going to say really bitchy.” She softened her words with a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m freaking out, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Griffin crossed over and sat on the corner of her desk, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re nervous. But don’t worry. We’ll work it out.”

“How’re we supposed to work it out? Dalton has left a billion-dollar company in the hands of an overpaid psych major and a playboy.” She glanced up at him quickly. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Neither of us is prepared to run this company.” But then she broke off and studied Griffin. Really looked at him. Oh, sure. She looked at him all the time. He was her lover. They spent an increasing amount of their spare time together. She’d gone from the point of being in awe of his sheer masculine beauty to being comfortable with his easy grin and smiling eyes. But today she looked at him through a different lens. Today she looked at him as a potential leader.

He’d been raised with wealth and privilege beyond her imagining. He was the second son in a powerful and influential family. But there was the rub. Second son.

She knew from her dealings with Dalton and the other Cains—and from gossip around the office—that the family largely considered Griffin something of a slacker and screwup. Oh, Dalton himself never said that. But everyone knew Griffin had a cushy job. The company paid him insane amounts of money to travel and be charming.

For the first time, she wondered if the cushy job was really the one he wanted.

Cocking her head to the side, taking in his unexpectedly serious expression, she said, “You haven’t had a lot of choice before now. You don’t want to be CEO, do you?”

Because for all she knew, maybe he did. They never talked about work. Or family, for that matter. Or personal ambitions. Maybe he’d always wanted to be CEO but being Dalton’s younger brother had held him back.

Then his face spilt into a grin and he laughed. “Me? CEO?” He shook his head. “No. I’ve never wanted to be CEO.”

She bit down on her lip. “So what is it you do want to do?”

“I want to find the missing heiress. If I do that, all of these problems go away.” His blue eyes gleamed with a satisfaction she wasn’t used to seeing from him outside of bed.

Which was good—it was nice to see him caring about something, even if it was just finding a way to shirk his familial responsibility. But at the same time, it made what she had to say so much harder.

“You know that isn’t actually going to happen, right? Your father has slept with dozens of women. Hundreds. All over the world. Your half sister could be anywhere.”

“Not necessarily. My dad’s usually pretty careful about the whole birth control thing, so if I operate under the assumption that the woman who got pregnant is someone he was in a relationship with—”

“Wait a minute. That in itself is a huge leap. How do you know your dad was a stickler for birth control?” Even as the question flew out of her mouth, she couldn’t believe she was asking it. The absolute last thing she wanted to think about was Griffin’s father’s sexual habits.

“Where do you think I got my paranoia?” His lips twisted in a faint smile that somehow wasn’t. It wasn’t an expression she was used to seeing from him. “He drove it into me at an early age.”

“And this is going to help how? I mean, you have an illegitimate brother, so obviously he did get a woman pregnant.”

“Exactly. But probably not the first time—he’s way too much of a control freak to let that happen. I think he’d actually have to be in the middle of an affair with a woman before he ever got sloppy enough to risk her getting pregnant. Which means—”

“Which means the field of hundreds just got narrowed down to seventy or eighty?” Which still wasn’t great odds, but she had to admit it was better than what she’d originally feared.

“More like fifteen or twenty. The old bastard’s pretty damn careful about who he lets close to him.” His voice was carefully devoid of emotion, but it made her hurt for him in a way she’d never expected to.

After all, she was the orphan in this equation, the one who had grown up with nothing as she was bounced from foster home to foster home. He was the golden boy, the glib son of a billionaire who had never expected anything from him. So why then did she suddenly feel sorry for him?

Not that she could let him see that. Griffin didn’t do pity, self or otherwise.

“So you want to find your sister.” She dragged herself back to the conversation at hand. “And then what? Saddle her with the CEO job?”

He sighed. “You need vision, Sydney. Work with me here. I find Hollister’s missing daughter, I get the money and Dalton is left with nothing. Which isn’t going to sit real well with him, no matter what he says. So when I sweep in and offer him a fat CEO salary plus major stock options in the company, he’s going to jump at it. Especially if he doesn’t have to deal with Dad’s BS. I’ll put him in charge, let him run things the way he wants to.” He dusted his hands together like it was a fait accompli. “Everybody wins.”

“It’s not always about winning.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Sydney. It’s always about winning. It’s only the stakes and the game that change.”

Which summed up all the reasons she couldn’t be with him anymore. When there was nothing on the line, it was easy to spend time with him and not care about philosophical differences or his lifestyle or the fact that everything really was a game to him.

But now that he was her boss, she couldn’t afford to wear those blinders anymore. She couldn’t afford to let a few minutes’—okay, a few hours’—satisfaction get in the way of her job. She liked her job, needed her job for the money and the sense of self it gave her. There was no way she was going to become one of those women who slept with the boss, her survival dependent on the whims of a man she had no hope of holding on to.

No, a few orgasms—earth-shattering or not—were not worth playing Russian roulette with her whole life.

“You really think this is going to work?” she asked Griffin.

“It’s absolutely going to work. Plus, the good news is Dalton is handing over all his research so far and he thinks he has a lead. So we’re golden.” He winked at her. “Trust me.”

As if. She took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and tried to ignore the fact that she suddenly felt like she was making a deal with the devil. “Fine. I’ll help you find your sister. But that’s it.”

“What do you mean, that’s it? That’s all I need.”

“I mean, if we’re going to be working together, if you’re going to be my boss, this thing between us has to end. No sex, no candlelit dinners, no late-night phone calls. We—” she waved her finger back and forth between them “—are officially over.”

For long seconds, Griffin stared at her like he couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying. Then he did the most amazing thing. He threw back his head and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.




Three


It was cute really, how annoyed she looked.

She set her jaw as bright pink flushed her cheeks. “I’m not joking.”

He tried to clamp down on his laughter. He really did. “I’m not joking.”

“Then stop laughing.” As if to give herself a better angle from which to glare at him, she pushed to her feet.

But from his point of view, it only brought her closer. She’d been sitting not far from him but still out of reach. Now he was easily able to lasso her arm and pull her toward him so she stood between his outstretched legs.

“I’m serious,” she insisted, but there was no force to her words and—as if she could read his mind—her gaze dropped briefly to his mouth.

“I know you are. That’s what makes it cute.” He widened his stance and pulled her close enough so that she was pressed against the vee of his legs, the juncture of her thighs against the hard length of his erection.

It felt so good having her there, so right. He inhaled sharply and was immediately hit with the scent of her. Sydney never wore perfume, but she favored a shampoo that smelled like coconut and lime. He was used to the smell of her hair, the way it mixed with the naturally sweet smell of her own skin and made him think of eating pancakes in bed on a perfect, lazy Saturday morning. But today she’d showered at his place and instead of her normal tropical, fruity smell, when he inhaled, he got a hit of Sydney layered under the smell of his own soap. Maybe it shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was. He felt it like a punch in the gut. She’d been in his shower mere hours ago. The smell of her only reinforced every instinct he had. She was his. Whether she knew it or not, she belonged to him.

Which made her edict that they stop sleeping together all the more funny.

He gave in to the urge to slip his hand along her jaw and to pull her closer.

Her mouth parted and she sucked in a quick breath. Anticipation. But instead of kissing her, he buried his nose in the hair right behind her ear and drew in a deep breath, just taking in the scent of her because he wanted to remember forever how she smelled in that instant. To burn it into his memory.

He felt a little shudder go through her and then he couldn’t resist running a trail of kisses up under her ear and across her cheek to her mouth. Then his lips were moving over hers in a soul-searing kiss. The kind that almost ended up with him ripping her clothes off and devouring her until she came apart in his arms.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think sex with his assistant would be a very efficient way to spend his first afternoon as CEO. Besides, even with the door closed, there was always the risk they’d be interrupted.

It was a struggle, but he mustered enough restraint to lift his mouth from hers and nudge her hips away from his before he lost all control. For a long moment she just stood there, face tilted up, lips moistened and parted, like she was so dazed she hadn’t even realized he was no longer kissing her.

He smiled again, purposefully making light of the irresistible pull she held over him. “Well, then, you let me know how that goes for you.”

She blinked. “How what goes?”

“That whole not sleeping together thing you have planned.”

The space between her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then she backed up a step and jerked her hands away from his hips. “Well, this was hardly a fair test.”

“Right, sweetheart.” He bopped the tip of her nose with his finger. “Let me know if you devise a fairer test than that. Meanwhile, I’ll be in my new office.”

He loved seeing her shocked expression as he sauntered into the office that used to be Dalton’s and shut the door behind him.

Once he was alone in the room, however, he blew out a long, slow breath.

When it came to running Cain Enterprises, he wasn’t nearly as confident as he’d let Sydney believe. He wasn’t worried about the day-to-day stuff, but the prospect of dealing with the board damn near had him breaking out in a cold sweat.

The board of directors that Hollister had amassed for Cain Enterprises was a bunch of vultures. If they knew what had happened in the past couple of weeks, they’d be circling for sure. First, Hollister—who had never displayed any sign of weakness to his business opponents—had made a very irrational decision when he’d sent his sons on this quest. The whole company hung in the balance as a result.

And now that Dalton had resigned, from the outside, it had to look like they’d all lost their minds. The board members weren’t fools. If they knew how unstable things really were, they’d start swooping down to peck out bits of flesh from what remained of his inheritance.

Right now, the company needed strong leadership more than anything. The company needed someone who could command respect. Unfortunately, Griffin knew he wasn’t that man.

He was all too aware of his limitations as a leader. He lacked his father’s cutthroat business tactics and his brother’s stolid determination. Perhaps even more importantly, he had no interest in running Cain Enterprises.

At the moment he had two interests: completing his work for Hope2O and the very tempting new assistant that came along with the CEO job. Apparently, being CEO was going to interfere with both of those pursuits. Which was why he had to get this yoke off his neck so he could get back to his real life. He had to find this damn missing heiress.

He dropped into the chair. Testing the springiness of the seat, he rocked back but there was very little give. Damn, even Dalton’s chair felt stiff and unyielding, much like his brother was.

Griffin glanced down and saw that the chair was actually the same model as the one in his office down the hall. Thanks to an array of knobs and levers, he could easily adjust it to suit his taste. Instead, he rolled the chair closer to the desk, flipped open the file Dalton had given him and started going over the notes Dalton and Laney had made. He left the chair exactly as it was. He wouldn’t be sitting in it long enough to bother changing it.

Sydney stared at the closed door to Dalton’s office, trying to squelch the sinking feeling in her gut. Except it wasn’t the door to Dalton’s office anymore. It was the door to Griffin’s office now. This was not good.

Oh, this was so not good.

Feigning a calm she didn’t feel, she turned back toward the computer at her workstation and mindlessly pulled up her email. If someone came into the office, she wanted it to look like she was busy. And competent. And not sitting here fantasizing about her boss.

Her boss.

Ugh.

She was absolutely not going to be that woman.

Her mother had been that kind of woman. The kind who casually slept with men to get favors from them. As far as she knew, her mother had never strayed into actual prostitution. She’d traded sex for rent, or car care or so her boss would overlook the fact that she was late for the seventeenth time that month. Even if that wasn’t real prostitution, it had cast a pall over Sydney’s childhood. Poverty, drug use and bad decision-making had dominated her life until she’d been taken away from her mother at the age of six. From there, she’d bounced from foster home to foster home for years before finally settling in at Molly Stanhope’s house when she was eleven.

Molly’s house had been a haven for the last seven years she was in the foster care system. In fact, Molly was still the closest thing she had to a mother. It was Molly who had been her moral compass since then. It was Molly who would not approve of Sydney sleeping with her boss.

Well, who was she kidding? It’s not like Molly would have gushed with approval over Sydney sleeping with Griffin Cain in the first place.

Sleeping with her boss compromised her position in the company. It meant he wouldn’t respect her. Her coworkers wouldn’t respect her and, worst of all, it destroyed her job security. It threatened not just her heart, but her livelihood.

As far as Sydney was concerned that sort of carelessness was a luxury she couldn’t afford. As a product of the foster care system, she had no one to depend on but herself. If the unthinkable happened and she lost her job, she was on her own. There were no loving parents for her to rush back to. There was no safety net. Hell, she didn’t even have a kindly uncle who could lend her a couple hundred bucks if she needed it. All she had was her cat, Grommet. And even he was kind of grouchy. If she was lucky, he might deign to curl up on her lap if she bumped the air-conditioning up.

She was completely on her own.

If she lost her job, she could lose her savings. Her house. Even her foster-siblings would feel it, because she’d been helping a couple of them with college tuition.

Just to give herself the kick in the ass she needed, she dug through her purse for her cell phone and scrolled through their numbers. Five of them had sort of stuck together because they’d all been at Molly’s at about the same time. She passed over Marco and George. They were both good guys if she needed advice on car care or barbecue, but they’d be useless at this sort of thing. Jen was studying abroad this semester and who knew what time it was in Spain. So Sydney pulled up Tasha’s number.

Tasha answered on the third ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” Sydney aimed for a breezy tone but landed somewhere near strained. “Just thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.”

There was a pause of obviously stunned silence. “On a work day? Are you sick?”

“No. Of course not. I’m fine. What, I can’t call you just to check in?”

“On a work day?” Suspicion strained Tasha’s voice. “I mean, sure, I guess you can. You just never have in the past. Oh, my God, were you fired?”

“No! I mean …” Sydney forced a chuckle. “Calm down. Nothing’s wrong. Dalton’s not in today, that’s all.”

Thank goodness she had a handy excuse because apparently Tasha saw right through all her half-truths.

“I just …” Sydney fought the sudden urge to spill the beans. To tell Tasha everything. To share her burdens. Get a second opinion. The problem was, people usually came to her for help, not the other way around. So instead, she asked, “How’re your finals going?”

And thankfully Tasha let herself be distracted.

“Ugh. Just awful. Political Theory is knocking me for a lo op.”

“I thought you liked that one.”

And distracting Tasha was as easy as that. Fifteen minutes of griping later, Sydney was wrapping up the conversation when Tasha inadvertently delivered the wakeup call Sydney needed.

“I just can’t wait for this semester to be over so I can blow off a little steam.”

“Just don’t do anything too crazy, okay?” Sydney said, that familiar need to protect her sister rising up inside her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

Tasha’s words were like a stab in the gut. If that was the barometer, then Tasha could be in serious trouble.

“Just be safe.”

Tasha chuckled. “I know the drill.”

“Yeah, I know you do.”

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Tasha asked her out of the blue.

“Yeah. Great.”

“Because you just missed an opportunity to remind me to call you if I needed to.”

“Oh. Sorry. You know you can always call. Anytime, day or night.”

But of course, Tasha never did call. Like Sydney, Tasha was über-responsible, superpredictable and determined to make a better life for herself than the one fate had handed her. She was also the last of Molly’s foster kids Sydney felt really close to. And soon Tasha would graduate from college, get a job and maybe move away. Maybe she wouldn’t need Sydney anymore.

Sydney didn’t like to admit it to herself, but she still needed Tasha. She still needed to be needed.

She’d known this day was coming. She’d even thought she’d been prepared, back before her boss up and quit, back when her job was stable and her life still made sense. Now? Well, in the past few hours her life had unraveled at an alarming rate. But Griffin was right: panicking wouldn’t help anything. What she needed was a plan. Part one: stay out of Griffin’s bed. At least until this was all over with. Part two: find the missing heiress.

Of course, both of those things were going to be harder than they sounded. She’d been helping Dalton look for the missing heiress before he’d gone off the deep end. She’d already scoured hospital records and county court records. So far, she’d found diddly.

And then there was the matter of Griffin. If she had any resistance against him at all, she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

She didn’t need a plan. She needed a miracle.




Four


Miracle or no, she wasn’t going to sit around here just waiting for … for what? For Griffin to come out of the office and pounce on her?

She needed a little emotional distance. A way to remind herself that Cain Enterprise’s new CEO was now her boss. Not her lover. A way to reestablish the professional footing of the boss/executive assistant relationship.

Her very first boss, for example, had always insisted she call him sir or Mr. Thornton. And she’d never once made out with him at her desk. Never mind that Mr. Thornton was seventy-four, humpbacked and mean-spirited. Still, maybe there was something to this formal professionalism.

Maybe if she just focused on the job, she’d be able to push aside her personal desires. So she did the only thing she knew how to do in a situation like this. She did her job.

She started with the basics. She contacted Marion, Griffin’s former assistant, and had her send over his schedule. Marion clearly hadn’t heard anything yet from Griffin because she seemed to think the request came from Dalton.

After that, Sydney generated a short action list. Things that had to get done to ease this transition. When Dalton came back, she wanted him to be impressed as hell by how smoothly everything had run in his absence.

She sent everything over to her iPad and marched to the office door, knocking only briefly before letting herself in.

She found Griffin sitting behind Dalton’s desk, a file open on the blotter in front of him. He didn’t look up when she walked in. His hair—which always looked a little scruffy—was even more disheveled than usual. He held a pencil in his hand, tapping the eraser end against the desk at a frenetic pace. His expression was a mask of intensity and she felt a little shiver go through her. Despite his blasé attitude, he took this very seriously.

Did she know him at all? Sure, she knew many things about him. Like that he had a scar on his neck and that he didn’t like chocolate but would eat anything with caramel. And that he watched the Star Wars trilogy every year on Christmas. But was knowing all of that stuff the same as really knowing him?

Confused, she automatically took a step backward, intending to sneak out and then knock, but his head snapped up and he saw her standing there, clutching her notes and her iPad in front of her. She was struck again by his expression. By the fierceness of it.

Then his countenance cleared, a smile slipped back onto his lips and he looked like himself again—all easy, laid-back charm. Nevertheless, she was left with the feeling that perhaps the Griffin she was used to seeing was the mask and the intensely focused Griffin was the real man. God, that was an unsettling thought.

“You need something?” he asked, his voice oozing that kind of breezy cool that she’d been aiming for on the phone with Tasha.

“No … I mean, um, yes. But I can come back later. Dalton never minded if I just walked in. Is that okay? If it’s not, I can just—” Stop talking! she ordered herself. Jeez, she’d never been the type to vomit words when she was nervous. So what was up now? She blew out a breath. This was just another first day with a new boss. Nothing to worry about.

Except, no matter how she sliced it, this was not just another new boss. This was her lover. A man who knew her body intimately. A man who’d driven her to the heights of passion over and over. She’d been vulnerable with him in a way she’d never been able to be with another man. She’d only allowed herself that vulnerability because he wasn’t a part of her real life. He was part of her nighttime fantasy world. Now, the two disparate parts of her life were becoming inextricable intertwined and, frankly, it terrified her.

“Sir—” she began, thinking of Mr. Thornton “—just tell me what you expect from me.”

Griffin slowly leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and bringing one hand up to stroke his thumb thoughtfully across his mouth, giving her the impression he was trying to hide the fact that he was laughing at her expense.

“Sir, huh?” he asked in a mocking voice.

She ground her teeth. He was definitely enjoying this. “How would you like me to address you?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I’ll think about that and let you know.”

“Shall I come back later?”

“It’s fine. Come in whenever you want.”

“I can knock first. Next time I’ll just knock first.” Again with the babbling! What was wrong with her?

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Humph. If only that were possible.

She flipped open the cover of her iPad, causing it to flicker awake and reveal the page of notes she’d made at her desk.

“First off, sir, there are—”

“Okay, I’ve thought about it. Stop calling me sir.”

She gritted her teeth, swallowed and tried again for the formal professionalism. “Whatever you wish, Mr. Cain.”

As if he was purposefully baiting her—and he probably was—his smile broadened. “I’d like you to call me Griffin.”

“Fine. There are some things we should go over to ease the transition.”

“Okay. Hit me.”

He flashed her another one of those amused smiles and she cringed. She wished now that she hadn’t made such a big deal about the name thing. Instead of impressing him with her efficiency and professionalism, she was acting like a total dork. “First off, I’d, um … like to go over Dalton’s schedule for the week.”

“I thought Dalton had been focusing on finding our sister.”

“He was, but he still had to run the company.” She looked down at the calendar app. “The weekly officers’ meetings and the—”

“But,” Griffin interrupted her, “I don’t have to be able to do everything Dalton did. No one’s going to expect that of me. At least not at first—and maybe never.”

Sydney had to swallow a laugh. He was right, of course; everyone would expect less of him because of his reputation as a dilettante and playboy.

As if he could read her mind, he flashed her one of his charming grins and gestured modestly to his chest. “I wouldn’t even have this job if it wasn’t for my family connections. So nobody is going to expect much. Everyone knows I’ll need help, especially these first few weeks. I can hand off most of the daily running of the company to someone else while I focus on finding the heiress. Once we find her, the pressure will let up a bit.”

She’d only been thinking about Dalton’s resignation in terms of how it would affect her. She hadn’t skipped ahead yet to the broader ramifications of how it would affect the whole company. When she did think about it, it terrified her. Cain Enterprises was a billion-dollar company. It employed countless people. He’d not only thought about all those ramifications, but also had thought of them quickly enough to start working on a plan.

She nodded. “Okay. In that case, shall I arrange a meeting between you and …” She let her words trail off as she waited for him to supply a name.

“Merkins.”

“Merkins?” She shifted her shoulder as she considered. “Not DeValera?”

Joe DeValera was the chief of operations, so he was the more natural choice.

“No, Merkins has a better head on her shoulders.”

“DeValera won’t like that you’re handing over responsibility to the CFO instead of to him. As COO, he’ll expect to handle things while you get your feet under you.”

“All the more reason he doesn’t need more power. Write up a memo to all the executives explaining the decision. Make sure it sounds like DeValera’s current responsibilities are too important and that no one else can do his job.”

Sydney nodded, quickly taking a few notes for the memo she’d later write and send to Griffin for approval. As she did so, she couldn’t help being impressed by his light hand when it came to managing the executive staff.

Something of her surprise must have shown in her expression because Griffin asked, “You disagree with my decision?”

She finished writing her notes as she shook her head. “No. On the contrary, I think it’s a brilliant strategy.” Griffin looked at her with his eyebrows raised, like he wanted her to say more, so she kept talking. “DeValera is very much your father’s man. He’s a good COO but a bit of a narcissist.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she cringed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I agree completely. And I don’t trust him. With Hollister’s health failing and this stupid quest of his—which, thankfully, no one outside the family knows about—the company was vulnerable enough before Dalton decided to step down. I don’t want DeValera getting any ideas.”

“That’s very smart.” She cringed a little, realizing she sounded like a yes-man.

“Then why do you look doubtful?”

She tilted her head, considering her next words. Just how honest did she want to be here? She never hesitated to give her opinion when Dalton asked for it, but he rarely asked.

“Out with it,” Griffin ordered, his playful grin never slipping from his face.

“I just didn’t expect you to have such insight into the inner workings of the company. That’s all.”

The smiled that twisted his lips suddenly looked just a little bitter. “Right.”

“The strategy is brilliant,” she hastened to reassure him.

“You just didn’t think I was capable of it.”

“It’s not—” But she fumbled, unsure how to finish her sentence. And feeling just a smidge annoyed at him. “Look, you give off an air of … privileged indolence. I’m not the only one in the company who thinks this. Anyone would tell you the same thing.” But suddenly she found she couldn’t quite look him in the eye. Disconcerted by the idea that she didn’t know him at all, she flipped the cover of her iPad closed, running her finger across the smooth blue leather. “But clearly you’re not that guy. Obviously you haven’t been ignoring the daily office politics of the company. Otherwise you wouldn’t have noticed that Merkins has amassed a really great team or that DeValera is a power-hungry narcissist.”

“Hey, narcissist is your word, not mine.”

Her gaze snapped back to his and she saw that his smile hadn’t changed at all. But perhaps his eyes were crinkling just a tad around the edges.

“All I’m saying—” her voice took on a defensive edge, but she didn’t try to hide it. It wasn’t her fault he was that good at hiding his true nature “—is that you can’t spend all that time and energy creating a persona to fool everyone and then be annoyed when you actually do fool everyone.”

Griffin knew Sydney was right. He also knew her annoyance with him was totally justified. He’d kept a lot of things from her. There were sides of himself he shared with almost no one. Things he hadn’t ever meant to share, even with her.

When he’d first started working for Cain Enterprises, he’d been pegged as the slacker in the family. At first, he hadn’t courted that image on purpose. He simply hadn’t wanted the job. But he had wanted the inheritance that would one day be his, and his father had made it clear that he’d never have one if he didn’t accept the other. As it turned out, being a piss-poor executive left him plenty of time to work for Hope2O. Being known as the lazy one had made his life easier. Everyone he knew thought him either incapable or unwilling to work, so no one ever expected jack from him. No one within Cain Enterprises, anyway.




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