“You shouldn’t eavesdrop. Shoo, I have reports to finish and meetings to schedule.” She waved her hand. “Go buy a Rolex or something.”

Easton pressed his hands to her desk and leaned across it. Her pulse spiked.

“I know something’s not right with you. You work for me, so you belong to me. I protect those who are mine.”

His face was only inches from hers and her heart did a funny jerk. “I don’t even know where to start with that.”

“Talk to me.” His voice was low and smooth, like melted chocolate.

“I’m not dumping my personal problems on you.”

“Others do.”

Yes, she noticed way too many popped by to share their problems, which he could solve with a check. “Well, I’m not others, and you need to learn you can’t control everything.”

Suddenly, there was a ripple of whispers through the office. She looked up and saw a man walking toward them. Her spine straightened.

Vander Norcross looked a lot like his older brother. They both had coal-black hair, muscled bodies, and blue eyes. Although Vander’s eyes were deep, midnight blue, so dark they almost looked black. Easton’s were a prettier cobalt that she got lost inside.

The middle Norcross brother was slightly leaner than Easton, harder, and even though he wore a suit, he didn’t have the same elegant, classy edge Easton radiated.

No, Easton looked like he could stride into a boardroom and initiate a company-wide takeover without breaking a sweat. Vander looked like he could defeat an army before breakfast, dismantle a biker gang at lunch, and then take over a small hostile nation at dinner time, maybe followed by a little global assassination for dessert.

Harlow locked her knees. Vander was the definition of hot badass, but he also scared the bejesus out of her.

“Harlow,” he drawled.

“Hi, Vander. If you’ve come to see your brother, he has a tiny gap in his workaholic, make-a-billion-dollars-before-dinner-time schedule.”

Vander’s lips quirked, and damn if it didn’t make a little curl of heat pulse in her belly.

Easton shot her a look. “Hi, Vander. Ignore Ms. Smart Comeback and come in.” He waved his brother into his office. Then he looked back at Harlow. “We’ll talk more later.”

She didn’t miss his emphasis on talk.

She rolled her eyes.

As the brothers disappeared into Easton’s office and closed the door, Harlow dropped back in her chair.

A notification popped up on her screen.

She had a new email. She clicked it, and her heart clenched.

It was a sale alert on a gorgeous, rundown Victorian home. A diamond in the rough. The house had wonderful curb appeal, but needed new paint, and inside, it needed a complete gut.

She closed the email and deleted it.

Time to stop daydreaming and get back to work.

Her cell phone rang. It was her father.

Chapter Four

Easton closed the door.