scent, his warmth. She’d let herself switch off for a bit before she had to face the mess of her life again tomorrow.
Chapter Eight
Easton woke up, and for a second, he wasn’t certain where he was.
He wasn’t in his bed.
He blinked. His face was buried in a cloud of blonde hair. He was flat on his back on his couch, with a sleeping Harlow stretched out on top of him.
Damn.
He stayed still and appreciated the feel of her. She wasn’t quite snoring, but she was making cute little snuffling noises. He found them outrageously attractive.
He’d had plenty of women in his life. Beautiful, elegant, and accomplished women. But he’d never slept on the couch with any of them.
Harlow stirred. She lifted her head, and her eyes were heavy with sleep. “Hey.” Then she stiffened, her eyes going wide.
Before she panicked, he clamped an arm around her to hold her in place. “Good morning.”
She stayed silent, but he could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked.
“I’m wondering if I ignore you, if you’ll disappear. Like a figment of my imagination.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
She groaned and shifted. Her body brushed against his.
Which had his wakening cock jabbing into her belly.
Those eyes got wider.
Shit. “I really want to kiss you.”
“No. No kissing.” She rolled off him and stood. She thrust her hands into her hair. “I can’t believe we slept together.”
“Fully clothed. On my couch.”
“I don’t—”
Easton reached up and grabbed her arm, then tumbled her back on top of him.
“Easton!”
He kissed her. She resisted for about half a second, then she fisted a hand in his hair and kissed him back.
Fuck. He wanted to tear that dress off her. He reached down and bunched the fabric, and started pulling it upward. She moaned into his mouth, then bit his bottom lip.
“You should come with a warning label,” she complained.
He dragged his hands up her thighs. “Oh?”
“Yes. Hot, potent, and causes women to make bad decisions.”
“You want to be bad, Harlow?”
A cell phone rang.
She froze. “That’s mine!”
She leaped off him, and he narrowly avoided a knee to the groin. As she dashed to her handbag, he tried to get his aching cock under control.
“Shit, my battery is almost dead.” She thumbed the screen. “Dad?”
“Harlow.” Charles Carlson’s flustered voice came through the speaker.
Easton sat up.
“Are you okay?” There was slick panic in Carlson’s voice. “Where are you?”
Harlow flicked Easton a glance, worrying her bottom lip. “I’m fine, Dad.”
“I went to your apartment and you weren’t there.”
“Um, I stayed with a…friend.”
“The dinner went all right?”
Her nose wrinkled. “It was bearable. Dad, we need to talk about the next steps.”
“There have been some developments,” her father said.
“For me, too. Some men tried to grab me off the street, Dad. And Antoine swore it wasn’t him.”
“No.” Her father’s voice was a harsh croak.
Easton frowned and moved closer. Her father’s voice showed signs of stress. Easton looked at Harlow. He hated seeing the worry lining her face.
“Princess, meet me at your place in thirty minutes. We’ll talk then.” The line went dead.
Harlow fished around in her bag and found a hair tie, then pulled her hair up in a messy knot. “I need to get to my apartment. I need to shower and change, and meet my dad.”
Easton nodded. “Let me change first. Help yourself to something to eat.”
He went upstairs to his master suite. Today, he didn’t take in the breathtaking views of the Bay, with the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz Island in prime position.
In his large master closet, he stripped off the clothes he’d slept in, then headed into the bathroom. After a quick shower, he brushed his teeth, and pulled on a clean shirt and suit. His hair was still damp when he rejoined Harlow.
She pushed a mug of coffee at him. Beside it was a plate holding a bagel.
“Coffee, black with one sugar. Bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon, and a few capers.”
Just how he liked it. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He pulled out his phone and called the office.
“Mr. Norcross’ office.”
“Gina, it’s Easton. I’m going to be late. Can you cancel my calls for the morning, and reschedule the Buxton meeting to this afternoon?” He listened to Gina throw questions at him, watching Harlow look at the shelves beside the TV. “Harlow’s going to be late, too, so that’s why I need you to do it. We’ll be in the office in about an hour or so.”
Harlow turned and