All He Really Needs(3)

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?”