The Specialist (Norcross #3) - Anna Hackett Page 0,13
to slip his fingers into the waistband of that maddening skirt and touch her skin.
“Of course, you know,” she said, resigned. “You’re Easton Norcross.”
“I asked Vander to do some searching.”
Her lips pressed together and she looked at the floor. “So, you have all the ugly details.”
“I know your father made some stupid mistakes, and he’s in debt to a bad person.”
She laughed, but there was nothing humorous in it.
“I want to help,” Easton said.
Her gaze met his, her chin lifted. “I’m fixing it.”
His gaze narrowed. “How? Do you know who Antoine Armand is?”
A faint grimace crossed her face.
“Let me enlighten you, Harlow. Armand was born and raised in the South of France. He was the son of a wealthy businessman, and eventually took over the business. It’s said he poisoned his father to speed up that process.”
She jolted.
“He built up the business to include gambling, smuggling, prostitution, money laundering, drugs. You name an illegal way to make money, and Armand does it.”
Harlow’s teeth sank into her bottom lip.
“He made enemies, bigger, more powerful ones, than him. So, several years ago he moved here. He’s re-building his little empire from scratch. That’s who you’re dealing with. He won’t hesitate to slit your throat. How are you going to deal with that?”
“I have to try,” she said quietly. “For my father.”
Frustration burst in Easton. “Harlow—”
“This isn’t your business.” She pressed her hands to his chest and pushed. He didn’t budge. “I promise this won’t spill over into my work.”
Easton growled. “I don’t give a fuck about work. I want you safe.”
Her big, blue-green eyes glimmered. Shit, he could almost feel himself falling into them. What was it about this woman?
Her fingers curled in his shirt. “It’ll be over soon. I’m not dragging others into this, especially not my boss.”
“Forget about me being your boss,” he growled.
Her gaze met his, her lips parted. “I can’t… If I do…”
Desire—a hot flood of it—poured into him. His fingers dug into her hips. She leaned closer, her gaze on his mouth.
“You drive me crazy,” he murmured.
“Oh, you’ve driven me way past crazy,” she murmured back.
Easton wasn’t sure who moved first, whether it was her or him.
Their mouths collided, her breasts pressed against his chest.
His mind just stopped functioning. Harlow was in his arms. Her mouth his to claim.
With a short growl, he forced her lips open. She moaned, her hands sliding into his hair. Her tongue stroked his.
Easton ravished her mouth, pulling her closer. She tasted like every dark promise he’d ever wanted.
His cock was hard in an instant. He lifted her onto the conference room table. She gasped, then tugged his tie loose.
He couldn’t get close enough. “These damn skirts.” He shoved her skirt up, baring thigh-high stockings with lace circling her upper thighs. He groaned.
She yanked him closer. She had two buttons of his shirt undone, her fingers touching his ink.
Easton shoved her legs apart and closed the gap between them. The hot core of her, covered only in tiny black panties, pressed against the bulge in his pants.
She moaned and he muttered a curse. She undulated against the hard ridge of his erection.
Hunger rose, eroding his control. The control he lived and breathed.
Harlow kissed him, clutching his head, her luscious body moving wildly.
He drove his tongue in to find hers, pulling her closer.
He needed her closer.
He needed her safe.
A phone beeped.
Easton ignored it. He needed Harlow more than he’d ever needed anything.
But she stiffened.
She fumbled with her bag and lifted her cell phone. Whatever the message was, it drained the color from her face.
She pushed against him, her legs falling away from his hips. She sat there on the conference room table where he did business daily, looking thoroughly disheveled—from his hands and mouth.
Her gold hair was tangled around her face, her lips swollen, and her skirt still hiked up to show those damn stockings and her long legs.
“Harlow?” Easton straightened. He was well aware that his suit pants did nothing to hide his raging hard-on.
She shook her head, like she was waking from a daze. She blinked, her cheeks flushed. “This shouldn’t have happened.” She slid off the table and yanked her skirt down. “God, you have dozens of women throw themselves at you every day. I’m not joining that party.”
“You didn’t throw yourself at me.” He worked his jaw. “And while you’re working for me right now, you still report to Meredith.”
Harlow’s eyes met his. “I’m not going to sue you for sexual harassment, Easton.”
“I know. I just…I don’t want you