“This is the young man who told Easton where you were?” Her mother eyed Daniel.

“Yes,” Harlow answered.

“Young man.” Eleanor reached out and hugged Daniel to her. “Thank you.”

Daniel’s face froze and he watched Harlow’s mom like she was a ticking time bomb.

“Are you hungry?” her mom asked.

The boy lifted a shoulder. “I could eat.”

“Then come with me.” She grabbed his hand and led him away. Scarlett followed, shaking her head.

Harlow smiled.

“Should we go home, Ms. Carlson?” Easton asked.

“That sounds wonderful, Mr. Norcross.” God, home. Their home. Love filled her.

* * *

Easton finished his call. Outside his office, he heard Harlow talking on the phone.

Rising, he reached the office door and leaned against the jamb. She was sitting at her desk. Her golden hair was in a neat twist, and she wore a black shirt with a deep V that gave him a nice view of her cleavage. He couldn’t see it, but he knew she was wearing a fitted, tan skirt that had driven him crazy that morning when she’d first appeared wearing it.

He could just make out the faint bruising on her face under her makeup. It had been a week and a half since Hugo had been locked up.

“No, thank you, Mr. Kingston. Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing you when you come for your meeting with Mr. Norcross.” She laughed. “You are such a charmer.”

Lucky that Kingston was almost eighty, or Easton wouldn’t be happy.

“Bye, now.” She touched the phone. “Mr. Norcross’ office.” She huffed out a breath. “Mr. Nelson, I know that’s you, even when you use a different voice. Mr. Norcross isn’t a bank or a charity. Just because he’s worked hard and is successful, he’s not here as a shortcut on your journey. Now, goodbye.” She ended the call.

Easton’s heart warmed. He walked up behind her and leaned down until his lips brushed her ear.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

She shivered. “We’re at work, remember?”

Always so proper. “Then I might need you to stay late for some private dictation.”

She turned her head. “Whatever you need, Mr. Norcross.”

“Fuck, I’m hard.”

She smiled.

That. He’d give up all his millions to see that smile every day.

“Delivery for Harlow Carlson.”

They both looked up. A deliveryman was obscured by an enormous bunch of red roses.

Harlow stood. “Wow. I’m Harlow.” She glanced at Easton and raised a brow.

He scowled. “Not me.” But tomorrow, he was ordering her flowers. Not roses. Harlow deserved something beautiful, exotic, and unique.

She pulled the card out while Easton signed for the arrangement and tipped the deliveryman.

A funny look crossed her face. “They’re from Antoine.”

Easton cursed.

A smile played along her lips. “Apologizing for everything, and Hugo.”