disconcerted, “that even though you have every woman in this building
wrapped firmly around your little finger, you’ll find I am not so easy to—”
She broke off before she could get the rest of the sentence out
of her mouth because she could practically see the innuendo forming on the tip
of his tongue.
She waved aside his comment. “Yes, yes. I heard it. Can we just
skip over all the jokes relating to the word easy? ”
His grin broadened to the point he looked like the damn
Cheshire cat.
“Look,” she continued. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.
Stop making this so difficult.”
“But I’d hate to be the one accused of being easy.” Before she
could protest, he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll let it go. I
promise.”
Although a smile still teased his lips, there was nothing
malicious in his gaze. He wasn’t teasing her to be mean; he just enjoyed the
game too much to stop.
It was one of those unexpected things about him that she found
so hard to resist. And this constant exposure to his charm made her
feel…nervous. Off balance. Pursued in a way she never had experienced when
they were merely sleeping together. Why was it so much easier to be around him
when all his energy was focused on making her climax rather than on making her
smile?
“Look,” she said, “just stay on your side of the conference
table and this will all go a lot more smoothly.”
He frowned. “So it’s not going well?”
She flipped closed the file in front of her. “You know this is
insane, right?”
Griffin nodded with mock solemnity. “I do.”
“Your father spent his entire life building this company and
now he’s threatening to throw it all away based on some anonymous letter he
got.”
“Exactly.”
“And he’s pitting you and your brothers against one another to
try to find this girl.”
“He is.”
“Has it occurred to any of you that this girl might not even be
real? I mean, obviously, whoever wrote the letter did it just to drive Mr. Cain
crazy. She—or he—obviously—”
Griffin interrupted her. “He? The letter was written by a
woman.”
He reached over her to flip the folder back open and tapped his
finger on the first page—a photocopy of the letter.
She picked it up and waved it around. “No, the letter was
written by someone claiming to be a woman. Someone claiming to have had an
affair with Hollister and claiming to have bore him a daughter. But there’s no
proof. No real evidence.” She put the letter back on the top of the folder and
considered it. “Which brings me back to my point. Whoever wrote the letter knew
him well enough to want revenge and to know this would drive him crazy. But that
doesn’t mean that the person who wrote the letter was actually the girl’s
mother. Or that there even is a girl.”
“Hmm.” Griffin stood, stroking his chin as he paced the length
of her office and back, considering her words. “Good point. But it’s
irrelevant.”
“How so?”
“It doesn’t matter who wrote the letter or even whether or not
there’s a girl to find. Proving there isn’t a girl would be harder than finding
one. It’s like proving there isn’t life on another planet. It’d be damn near
impossible.”
“Well, it might be damn near impossible to find her even if she
does exist.”
Griffin gave her a level look. “So you think Laney’s theory was
wrong? You don’t think this nanny, Vivian, is the one?”
Sydney flipped back through the file to find the color copy
she’d made of the photos Laney had found. The first picture was of two women and
a girl standing on the beach somewhere. As Sydney understood it, the older woman
was Matilda Fortino, Laney’s grandmother. She’d been the Cain’s housekeeper for
Dalton and Griffin’s entire childhood. Dalton had gone to see her because he’d
thought that if anyone had the dirt on his father, it would be her. His search
had brought him to Laney, whom he’d apparently been in
wrapped firmly around your little finger, you’ll find I am not so easy to—”
She broke off before she could get the rest of the sentence out
of her mouth because she could practically see the innuendo forming on the tip
of his tongue.
She waved aside his comment. “Yes, yes. I heard it. Can we just
skip over all the jokes relating to the word easy? ”
His grin broadened to the point he looked like the damn
Cheshire cat.
“Look,” she continued. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.
Stop making this so difficult.”
“But I’d hate to be the one accused of being easy.” Before she
could protest, he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll let it go. I
promise.”
Although a smile still teased his lips, there was nothing
malicious in his gaze. He wasn’t teasing her to be mean; he just enjoyed the
game too much to stop.
It was one of those unexpected things about him that she found
so hard to resist. And this constant exposure to his charm made her
feel…nervous. Off balance. Pursued in a way she never had experienced when
they were merely sleeping together. Why was it so much easier to be around him
when all his energy was focused on making her climax rather than on making her
smile?
“Look,” she said, “just stay on your side of the conference
table and this will all go a lot more smoothly.”
He frowned. “So it’s not going well?”
She flipped closed the file in front of her. “You know this is
insane, right?”
Griffin nodded with mock solemnity. “I do.”
“Your father spent his entire life building this company and
now he’s threatening to throw it all away based on some anonymous letter he
got.”
“Exactly.”
“And he’s pitting you and your brothers against one another to
try to find this girl.”
“He is.”
“Has it occurred to any of you that this girl might not even be
real? I mean, obviously, whoever wrote the letter did it just to drive Mr. Cain
crazy. She—or he—obviously—”
Griffin interrupted her. “He? The letter was written by a
woman.”
He reached over her to flip the folder back open and tapped his
finger on the first page—a photocopy of the letter.
She picked it up and waved it around. “No, the letter was
written by someone claiming to be a woman. Someone claiming to have had an
affair with Hollister and claiming to have bore him a daughter. But there’s no
proof. No real evidence.” She put the letter back on the top of the folder and
considered it. “Which brings me back to my point. Whoever wrote the letter knew
him well enough to want revenge and to know this would drive him crazy. But that
doesn’t mean that the person who wrote the letter was actually the girl’s
mother. Or that there even is a girl.”
“Hmm.” Griffin stood, stroking his chin as he paced the length
of her office and back, considering her words. “Good point. But it’s
irrelevant.”
“How so?”
“It doesn’t matter who wrote the letter or even whether or not
there’s a girl to find. Proving there isn’t a girl would be harder than finding
one. It’s like proving there isn’t life on another planet. It’d be damn near
impossible.”
“Well, it might be damn near impossible to find her even if she
does exist.”
Griffin gave her a level look. “So you think Laney’s theory was
wrong? You don’t think this nanny, Vivian, is the one?”
Sydney flipped back through the file to find the color copy
she’d made of the photos Laney had found. The first picture was of two women and
a girl standing on the beach somewhere. As Sydney understood it, the older woman
was Matilda Fortino, Laney’s grandmother. She’d been the Cain’s housekeeper for
Dalton and Griffin’s entire childhood. Dalton had gone to see her because he’d
thought that if anyone had the dirt on his father, it would be her. His search
had brought him to Laney, whom he’d apparently been in
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