her a lesson, Antoine.”
“Quiet, Hugo.” Antoine raised a brow.
“Harlow,” she spat.
“Harlow. Lovely.”
“Still a creep.”
He stared at her intently for a long moment, then broke into laughter. “I like you, Harlow.”
“I’m sorry I can’t say the same.”
Something moved through the man’s eyes. He turned to her father. “I’ve come up with another way to clear your debt.”
Hope flared in her father’s eyes. Harlow clutched her handbag more tightly in her fingers.
“I’ll take your daughter, instead.”
Her father gasped.
Harlow’s mouth dropped open. “What? You can’t buy people.”
Another sharp smile. “Sure, you can.”
“No!” her father cried.
She lifted her chin. “I am not for sale.”
“Everyone has their price.” Antoine reached out to touch her hair, but she knocked his hand away.
“I don’t know you,” she said. “And I don’t like you.”
“I could change your mind.”
“No. And believe me—” think of something to throw him off “—my boyfriend would not be happy.”
Antoine waved a hand negligently. “I don’t care about your boyfriend.” He cocked his head. “And I suspect you’d do anything for your father.”
Her heart clenched.
“No,” her father said again.
Harlow’s skin crawled at the thought of letting this man anywhere near her. In that second, she felt so incredibly alone.
“I’ll get your money, Antoine,” her father pleaded. “I just need more time.”
“I’ve already given you enough time.”
“I can—”
Antoine held up a hand, his gaze met Harlow’s. “Dinner.”
“What?” she said.
“To buy your father forty-eight hours, you’ll have dinner with me tonight.”
Oh, God.
Her father grabbed her arm. “Harlow, you don’t have to—”
“Just dinner?” she asked.
Antoine smiled. “If that’s all you want.”
“Harlow—” Her father tugged on her arm.
She nodded. “Okay.”
Antoine’s smile widened. “I’ll send you details and have a car collect you.”
“Send me the details, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Harlow,” her father said again.
“Go, Dad. I’ll call you later. I need to get back to the office.”
With one searing glance at Antoine, she strode away.
She couldn’t think and her skin felt slimy. The office was closest. Most people would’ve left for the day by now. She needed to collect her things, and get herself together.
She hoped Easton was gone. She was pretty sure he had a business dinner this evening.
She trembled, goose bumps forming on her arms and legs, and headed toward the main door on autopilot. This was all a nightmare. Dinner with a criminal. She shuddered. She’d get through it. And if it bought her dad time, it was worth it.
Although she had no idea how he could come up with the money. She wondered just how much he owed.
She swiped herself into the Norcross building.
When she reached the office level, it was thankfully empty. She strode to her desk.
Correction, it was empty, except for Easton’s office.
She heard the rumble of several male voices.
“Find her,” Easton barked.
“We’re working on it,” Vander replied.
“I’ve got Ace on it,” a third voice said. “It’d be easier if he could see her phone. He’ll be able to track her more easily.”
Harlow stepped into the doorway.
Easton leaned against his desk, with his arms crossed over his chest. His face looked like a thundercloud. Vander and another man—a tall, handsome man with blond-brown hair stood beside him. Saxon Buchanan was Vander’s best friend and right-hand man at Norcross Security. He was also engaged to Easton and Vander’s sister, Gia.
“What’s going on?” Harlow asked.
The men spun fast. Easton straightened, his gaze burning into hers. “Where the hell have you been?”
Chapter Five
Easton fought down the knot of emotions in his chest. He grabbed Harlow’s arm and towed her out of his office.
“Hey,” she cried. “Easton—”
“Quiet.” She was safe. He reminded himself of that.
He shoved open the door to the conference room and pulled her in.
“Let me go,” she snapped.
“Where the hell did you go? Are you all right?”
She strode to the long, glossy table, then spun. “I’m not yours to worry about.”
He stalked toward her and she backed up two steps. He pinned her against the table.
He knew he was coming on too strong, but that hour she’d been gone… His jaw worked. She had no idea of what people like Armand were capable of.
“You don’t get to manhandle people.” Her eyes sparked. “Even if you are Easton Norcross.”
She twisted, her body brushing against his.
He felt his body respond and clamped down on that reaction. “Harlow—”
“Easton,” she snapped back.
He gripped her hips. “I want to help you.” Keep you safe.
She stilled, shadows in her eyes. “No one can help me. I’ll fix this.”
“It’s your father’s mess to fix.”
She stilled, her eyes widening. “You know.” Her voice was a whisper.
He didn’t respond, fighting the urge