He worked hard, played when he had the time, and put in extra effort to control his little part of the world.

“I’m in charge of a lot of people,” he countered. “You seem to be the only one who has trouble with my orders.”

She smiled. “Which is why you keep me around.”

“I’m going to fire you and send you back to Meredith, as soon as I find a competent replacement.”

Harlow made a sound, completely unconcerned. Of course, he’d threatened to fire her multiple times a day ever since she started with him. Nothing rattled the woman.

Except the message she’d gotten two days ago. She’d been pale, upset, and refused to tell him what was going on.

It was eating at him. He’d find out. He always got what he wanted.

Although, she seemed fine tonight, and far too edible in that red dress. He scowled. He hated that she’s worn it for some schmuck.

“I left the files right here.” She slapped the desk and her gaze narrowed. “Did you move them to mess with me?”

He raised a brow. “Yes, I wanted your delightful company at—” he looked at his Rolex “—9:25 at night.”

She made a harrumphing sound and moved to the sleek credenza against the wall. Her curvy form was silhouetted by the lights of San Francisco through his floor-to-ceiling windows. She leaned over the credenza, her dress hugging her ass.

Easton’s hands clenched on his pen, and his hard cock throbbed.

She worked for him. Even if it was only temporary, she was off limits.

And besides, she drove him crazy. She’d do the same in bed.

Or bent over his desk.

Shit.

“Here.” She lifted a file triumphantly.

“The cleaners were in here when I left to grab some dinner,” he said.

Harlow slapped a hand on her chest…which made him notice the swell of her breasts.

Fuck. Get a grip, Norcross.

“You stopped work to eat?” she said. “It’s a miracle.”

He shot her a look. She was a first-class smartass. He took the file from her.

“I’m sorry I had to call you in.” He wasn’t really.

She sighed. “It’s okay. The date was a bust anyway.” She circled the desk and grabbed her coat and bag. “Right, good luck with your meeting in the morning.” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t wake up at 4:30 AM for anything, even to make millions of dollars.”

“Tens of millions of dollars.”

She rolled her pretty, blue-green eyes. He still hadn’t decided if they were blue or green, since they seemed to change colors.

Easton’s head filled with a few ways he’d happily wake her up that early. He gripped the edge of the desk. He had to get this incendiary desire under control.

“Okay, Mr. Heart-Attack-Waiting-to-Happen, I’m out of here.”

He rose. “How are you getting home?”

“Uber.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she called back.

“No.”