Oh, Harlow was sure the woman had seen Easton Norcross in all his handsome glory. But she understood what he was saying. The woman had been there solely for her own needs, not his.

“Poor Mrs. Henderson from HR had to come up and deal with it,” he said.

Harlow shivered. “That woman would do well in the Army.”

“She’d make a good Ranger.”

They smiled at each other. Heat unfurled in Harlow’s belly, glowing bright.

“Who do you think tried to take me?” She kept her tone neutral, trying to stay away from the enticing feelings inside of her. She opened a tube of antiseptic cream and spread some on his knuckles. “Do you think Antoine is lying?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, but he didn’t seem to be.”

Her stomach did a sickening turn. So, who the hell else was after her?

Easton grabbed her hand. “You aren’t to be anywhere near Antoine Armand alone again.”

She cocked her head. “Is that an order, Mr. Norcross?”

“If you knew what you calling me Mr. Norcross in that snotty tone did to me, you wouldn’t do it.”

She froze. Oh. God. Ignore it, ignore it. She quickly finished attending to his knuckles. “Who else could possibly be after me?”

Easton’s face hardened. “I don’t know, but we’ll find out. We need to talk with your father tomorrow.”

Harlow slid off the stool, and paced across his living area. Just the thought of her father and this mess made her feel sick. Fathers were meant to protect, not put their family, their children, in danger.

“I can’t stay with you” she said.

“This again?” Easton swiveled on the stool, looking like a king on a throne. “Why?”

“You’re my boss.”

He raised a brow. “So?”

“It’s not appropriate. People will talk.”

“So? They talk all the time. Half the time they make shit up.”

Tiredness hit her. It was late, and she’d been running on caffeine and anxiety all day.

She dropped onto the couch. “I don’t know how to fix this, Easton. I’m usually really good at fixing things.” She stared at the lovely gray rug on the floor.

He came and sat beside her, and took her hand. “Sometimes you can’t do it alone. Sometimes you need to ask for help.”

She glanced at him. There was a deep note in his voice.

What had Easton needed help with?

“I can’t stay with you,” she said again. “If I do…” I’ll be no better than that misguided assistant when I strip naked on your bed. She wondered what his bedroom looked like.

No, Harlow. Not seeing his bedroom.

“Harlow, I don’t give a fuck about what people say.”

“They won’t say nasty things about you.”

He growled. “I won’t let them say shit about you, either.”