“Yes. As soon as you’re out of here, I’m triple locking this door.”

He eyed her. She made herself meet that strong gaze.

His fingers brushed her jaw line. “Tough. Sleep well, Harlow.”

He sauntered out and she forced herself not to watch him go. The man had this way of walking that captured every female gaze in the vicinity. She closed the door and locked it, then leaned her back against the wood and squeezed her eyes closed.

Then she pushed away, her anxiety ratcheting back up. She snatched up her phone. It was later than she’d normally call her parents, but she had to check if her dad was okay. And find out what the hell was going on.

The call went straight to her dad’s voicemail.

Harlow sighed. “Dad, call me as soon as you get this.” She dropped onto a stool at her high kitchen counter. “A man tried to snatch me off the street tonight. I’m okay… But he said something. Dad, I think it has something to do with you. Call me.”

She ended the call and worry nipped her like little bugs all over her skin.

Harlow decided she needed a hot shower, maybe a glass of wine, or a day at the spa, or a vacation in Tahiti. She could still feel Easton’s touch on her jaw.

Easton Norcross wasn’t a man who gave up easily. He’d keep pushing her to find out what was wrong.

She just wished she knew.

After a scalding-hot shower, Harlow pulled on her favorite, oversized T-shirt and fluffy, gray socks. One had a hole in the toe, but they were so soft and comfy.

She climbed into bed, thinking that worry for her dad would keep her awake.

Instead, it was thoughts of Easton’s sexy tattoos that danced in her brain.

How many did he have? And how much of that hard body did they cover? She groaned.

Boss. Boss. Boss.

“He’s your boss, Harlow Maree Carlson. Totally one-hundred-percent off-limits.” She pulled her pillow over her head and willed herself to get to sleep.

* * *

Sun blared into her face.

With a groan, Harlow rolled over in bed. She’d forgotten to close the curtains last night. She flopped onto her back.

She’d had a rough night. Not because of her attack, no, she was blaming it solely on Easton Norcross.

Her demanding boss was even taking over her dreams, damn him.

She shifted on the sheets. She’d woken twice in the night, both times hot and flushed, picturing those strong hands on her skin.

In one, his sexy car had featured too, with Easton spreading her out on the hood.

Heat pooled between her legs. She sat up, pushing her hair back.

A cold shower was the first order of the day.

Her phone beeped. It had to be her dad. She lunged for the bedside table.