The mantra throbbed in Cal Prescott's brain until, with a growl of frustration, he slammed his palms on the desk and shot to his feet.

Victor had really done it this time—not only pitting his sons against each other for the ultimate prize of VP Tech but demanding an heir in the bargain. With a sharp breath Cal whirled to study the panoramic view of Sydney's Circular Quay and Botany Bay below, the gun-metal arch of Sydney Harbour Bridge nestled comfortably in the foreground. The unusually sunny June morning did nothing to smooth his anger; Victor's trademark directness still smouldered away in his gut.

You must both marry and produce an heir. The first one to do so gets the company.

Zac, his stepbrother, didn't deserve VP Tech. He was Victor's real flesh and blood, yes, but the younger man had turned his back on them years ago. It was Cal who'd stuck with family, who had put in the long hours, steadily growing the business until his One-Click office software package had finally cracked the biggest seller spot in Australia last year.

Cal Prescott didn't walk away. Ever. He'd put every waking hour, every drop of sweat into his stepfather's company. Damned if he'd let it slip through his fingers now.

With long-legged strides he stalked over to a discreet wall panel and jabbed a button to reveal a well-stocked bar. He smoothly poured himself a glass of whiskey, neat.

Making money, proving himself, had been an all-consuming desire for so long he barely remembered a time he hadn't lived and breathed it. And with every million he'd made, every deal he'd brokered, he could've sworn he'd seen pride on Victor's craggy face, felt the rush of approval when the gruff, emotionally spare man