All He Really Needs(9)

“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—”