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 to feel pressured. I am in a position of power.”

She made a scoffing sound. “This didn’t happen—” she waved at the table “—because I felt coerced.” She glanced at her phone again and her spine straightened. She glanced at her watch and a panicked look crossed her face. “I have to go.”

“Harlow, you could be in danger.”

“I promise I’m okay.” She swallowed. “Armand gave my dad a bit more time.”

Male voices echoed outside the conference room. Vander and Saxon.

“I’ve got to go.” She slipped out of the room.

Easton pressed a hand to his hip and ground his teeth together. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her back to his place, and not let her out.

Vander and Saxon appeared in the doorway.

“She okay?” Vander asked.

Saxon raised a brow. “She looked like someone just kissed the hell out of her.”

Easton just glared. “She said she and her father are fixing the issue.”

Both men scowled.

“Armand doesn’t give second chances,” Vander said.

Frustration rode Easton hard. “She said she was safe.” For now, he’d have to trust that. He looked at his Rolex and cursed. “I’ve a business dinner to attend.”

And he was going to need a little more patience where Harlow Carlson was concerned. He wasn’t sure where he’d find it, especially when he could still taste her on his lips.

* * *

Harlow finished putting her makeup on, her belly tied up in knots.

She had thirty minutes to be at the Acquerello restaurant to meet Antoine.

She pulled a face in the mirror, then touched her lips.

And thought of Easton’s mouth. On hers. Heat curled low in her belly.