He looked past her to Harlow and Antoine. The man was talking, but Harlow was silent, picking at her food.

The asshole had blackmailed her. Used her love for her father against her.

“Easton?” Helena’s smile slipped.

“No, thank you. I can’t. This is business.”

The lawyer sniffed, but nodded.

“Well, this has been a productive and enjoyable evening.” The managing partner stood, and held out a hand. “I’m looking forward to our joint venture, Easton.”

Easton nodded and shook hands with the man.

They all started out of the restaurant.

“I have something I need to do,” Easton said. “Thanks again and good night.”

He crossed the restaurant and strode to Harlow’s table. She saw him coming and her eyes widened.

Antoine glanced up, his gaze darkening.

“Harlow, time to go,” Easton clipped out.

“Easton Norcross,” Antoine drawled. “We haven’t had the opportunity to meet before.”

“I’d prefer to keep it that way.” Easton gripped the back of Harlow’s chair. “Harlow, let’s go.”

“Ah, this is the unhappy boyfriend you alluded to,” Antoine said.

Boyfriend? Easton glanced at her.

She moved her eyes, like she was trying to communicate something. He got it. She’d been trying to throw obstacles at Armand.

“Harlow won’t be seeing you again,” Easton said.

She started to rise.

“We haven’t finished our dessert.” Armand leaned back in his chair, his gaze like a hawk. “If she leaves, our deal is off.” His voice turned Arctic cold.

Harlow froze, then a resigned look hit her face. She dropped back into the chair. “Go, Easton. I’ll be fine.”

Fuck. He wanted to punch Armand in his smug face. “I’ll wait outside.” He speared a look at Armand. “You know who I am. Who my brother is. You hurt her…you’ll pay.”

He saw Harlow’s eyes widen. Then he turned and strode out.

Dammit, he wanted to pull Armand’s arms out and break every bone in the man’s body.

Old memories stirred, a bad taste rising in his mouth. He’d done horrible things to the enemy in the past. Knew ways to extract information that no man should ever do to another.

You’re not at war anymore, Easton.

Even now, some of those things haunted him. He shouldn’t be anywhere near Harlow, let alone touching her with his stained hands.

He reached the street. The temperature had dropped, and he pulled on his coat. He closed his eyes for a second. He liked the cold air on his face; it helped clear his head.

He wasn’t letting Harlow have any more cozy dinners with Antoine Armand, that was for damn sure.

“Easton?” A feminine drawl.

He opened his eyes to find a smiling Helena standing in front of him.

He frowned. “Why are you still here?”

She moved closer, a sexy smile on her face. She touched her hands to his chest.