The fact that his mother was trying to set up Adam and his brothers was no surprise. She’d made it eminently clear on any number of occasions that she wanted grandchildren. But now Brandon was making it sound as if she were suddenly on a crusade and willing to use underhanded means to introduce new women into their lives.

“Take your best shot, Mom,” Adam murmured as he made his way down the broad, open corridor toward the executive offices. He loved Sally Duke, the woman who’d adopted him when he was eight years old, but Adam Duke was the last person on earth who would succumb to her machinations when it came to marriage.

Whistling softly, he walked past his assistant’s empty chair, noticed that her computer wasn’t turned on yet, and marveled that he’d actually made it into work before her this morning. That was rare. Cheryl Hardy was a workaholic who loved her job. A good thing, because they’d be working night and day for the rest of the month, right up to the evening of the gala grand opening of the new Duke resort at Fantasy Mountain.

“What do you mean, she quit?” Adam demanded an hour later. “My people don’t quit.”

“This one did,” Marjorie Wallace, his long-time Human Resources manager said.

“Impossible. We’re about to close on a billion-dollar deal.” Adam pushed back from the massive mahogany desk and rose to pace along the wall of windows that overlooked the craggy coastline of Dunsmuir Bay and the clear blue ocean beyond. It was a breathtaking view of the central California coast, one he saw every day and never grew tired of, but it mattered little now as he whipped around to confront Marjorie. “She’s not allowed to leave.”

“Actually, she is. It’s not like she was an indentured servant,” the older woman said drily. “She’s gone, Adam. Let’s move on.”