I ate, but not because I was hungry. I’d lost my appetite. I ate to save face. Stupid, but true. I ached to get out of this conference room, out of this building, out of…

Maybe I should pull a Riley and just disappear. My little sister was notorious for her escape routine. No one knew what would push her over the edge, but something would eventually.

She’d be back. She always came back.

Still, I worried about her while she was gone. We all did. She and I weren’t overly close. I wasn’t overly close to my brothers either.

I wasn’t overly close to anyone.

I preferred being alone. Not that I didn’t like a good fuck as much as the next guy. I just wasn’t sure a relationship was in the cards for me. The Montana fling would have to hold me for a while. I was the worst at picking up women, and I refused to join an internet dating site.

No way. Just no way.

I also refused to pay for sex, even though I could afford the best out there.

No way. Just no way.

Since little miss silver eyes wasn’t interested, I’d go it solo, as usual. I’d gone way out of my comfort zone to ask her to dinner, and I’d gotten shot down.

I work for the company. Your company.

What a dumbass excuse. What she really meant was I’m not interested.

Normally this wouldn’t be a huge issue. I’d just stay away from the office. Not an option at the moment, though. Until we figured out how and why all our prints ended up in our father’s penthouse that night, I needed to be involved. All of our lives were at stake here, even though I had no doubt that every single one of us was innocent. Rock hadn’t even been in New York that night.

Yet all of our prints had been found at the murder site.

I’d been at my loft all night.

Alone.

I was always alone.

Almost always, anyway, so the fact that I had no witnesses shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. I had to find a way to clear myself, which meant it was a good thing I’d chickened out on confiding in Rock.

If he—or anyone—knew what I knew—what I kept so deeply buried—I’d be fucked. Really fucked.

Nine o’clock, and I’d just settled in for a night of painting. My brothers kept me at the damned office until nearly seven. Or rather, that was when I told them I was leaving. Another minute of avoiding that silver-eyed gaze would have driven me mad.

Mad with lust, that is.