His words hit me hard. He was speaking from a place of truth, and I couldn’t hold it against him. Funny thing was, the same thing was happening to me. As much as I was resisting giving my heart to another man, I couldn’t help how a certain guy was creeping under my skin. I was powerless to stop it, no matter how much I told myself I would not fall for Harrison Summers because the man was dangerous in every way possible.

“I’m beginning to realize that,” I said, nearly choking on the words.

“Listen, sweetheart, why don’t you bring that man of yours over for a drink and maybe dinner? We can get to know one another better. I promise to suspend my judgment until I know more about him.”

Even though he couldn’t see me, I nodded. “Okay.” Even though I wasn’t hundred percent sure it was a good idea, we had to start somewhere and I preferred sooner rather than later. I hoped that my father would give Harrison a fair chance and maybe even get to like him. “What day did you have in mind?”

He cleared his throat. “How about tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans.”

I opened my diary and flipped the page. I had drinks planned with Emma from work, but she wouldn’t mind if we did it another time. “Oh, I can be free too. I’ll just have to find out if Harrison is available.”

“Eva?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, sweetheart.” A soft sigh sounded down the line. “I’ll always be your dad. I only want what’s best for you. That’s all.”

I swallowed hard, biting back the tears burning my throat.

“I know, Daddy.”

“I’ll keep an open mind, I promise. But if he hurts my baby girl, I’m going to break his dick.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. Bill would gladly deliver on his promise. Why were men so damn testosterone-driven?

Chapter 22 — Harrison

Sweat trickled down my spine as I pressed the remote’s large red button to lock my car.

Beep beep.

Eva’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway as I’d hoped, but maybe she’d arrived earlier and had access to the six-car garage, and hers was inside and out of the Californian sun.

I rang the bell then combed my fingers through my hair and pulled my shirt straight while I waited for someone to open the door. Squinting in spite of wearing sunglasses, I took a minute to inspect my surroundings.

Bill Ryder’s impressive Malibu mansion was nothing less than I’d expected—immaculate sprawling gardens and an ocean view to die for, both befitting a music mogul. I shrugged. People who made it big in the industry showing off their wealth through conspicuous consumption was just another way of life in Los Angeles.

Sucking in a deep, calming breath, I turned when I felt a current of air swoosh past me as the heavy wooden door swung open.

It wasn’t Eva, who I’d hoped would meet me at the door. Instead, I stared into the guarded and somewhat weathered face of her father. I could see traces of her in him, but mostly I saw Ryder. The thick, straight eyebrows, sharp elegant nose, and generous fleshy lips that were curled up into a courteous smile that didn’t reach his penetrating eyes were so much like Ryder’s that I had to stop myself from staring.

“Ahhh, Harrison, glad you could make it tonight.” He indicated for me to come inside.

No handshake? The man wasn’t going to make it easy for me by a long shot.

I gave him a half smile as I stepped into the cavernous entrance. “Thanks for inviting me over, Mr. Ryder.”

“Call me Bill. My kids do, so you may as well.”

“Sure,” I said evenly, not letting his cool demeanor disturb me. In my line of work, I came across people from all walks of life—from the scum-of-the-earth types to those who thought they were better than anyone else, and everything in between.

I’d learned not to judge a book by its cover, no matter how polished or tattered it appeared from the outside. Looks were deceiving, and anyone could put up a front. For millennia, people had pretended to be what they weren’t.

It was reading people—their body language and micro-expressions—that was my special talent, and had made me a leader in my field and such a sought-after operative. And it sure as fuck came in handy when trying to impress the father of the woman I was sleeping with. Not that the older Ryder was going to be a pushover. Far from it. He didn’t get to be as successful and wealthy as he was without having the balls that go with making it big in a cutthroat industry. Yeah, I’d done my research on the man. Lucky for me, I had all the resources I needed at my disposal.

“Let’s go get a drink while we wait for Eva.”

My stomach dropped to my Italian leather shoes.

“Eva’s not here yet?”

Bill had to hear the disappointment in my voice. “No. In fact, I asked her to come an hour later. Gives us time to have a man-to-man talk and get to know one another a bit.” He chuckled, as if he knew he had won the first round already.

I had a strange hunch that one thing the father and son had in common were that they didn’t like me. Neither thought I was good enough for Eva. Maybe they were right, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying to be the man she wanted.

I followed a few steps behind, drinking in the sheer magnificence of the place I presumed Eva had grown up in. Christ, if this was the lifestyle she was accustomed to, I was seriously in deep trouble. I’d always preferred the simpler things, and this lavish way of living was something I’d read about but never coveted.

The huge room we entered had one-hundred-and-eighty-degree views of the ocean. That never got old. I loved the ocean, particularly the saltiness on my skin and the fresh smell that could take me back to my childhood in an instant.

Bill stood in front of a bar that looked like it belonged in a club rather than in someone’s home. It was stocked with every kind of drink imaginable. All top-shelf stuff fit for the rich and famous.

“What’s your poison?”

If the atmosphere weren’t so tense, I’d laugh. Bill had hit it right on the nose. Alcohol was poison to me. I loved the shit, but it didn’t love me back. That didn’t stop me from having an intimate relationship with it—especially not when I was sinking like I was in that moment.

“Errr . . . Jack. Neat.”

Bill’s lips twisted into a smirk. “You like it strong, huh?”

Had he already figured me for a drunk? I watched as he took two large crystal glasses from the shelf, wiped them with a white cloth, as if they weren’t gleaming already, and poured us each half a glass from the black labelled bottle. Without a word, he slid mine across the granite top toward me, and then lifted his in a mock salute.

“Cheers.” He took a tentative sip, grimaced, and then knocked the contents of the glass back in one go without batting an eyelid. Fuck, the man was impressive. Following suit, I copied him, the fiery liquid burning down my throat and warming my insides.

“Cheers,” I said, as I placed my empty glass on the counter with an irreverent thud. If Bill was trying to outdrink me, he’d met his fucking match.

“You don’t fuck around, do you?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “No. It’s not my MO.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah, I gathered that.” Without asking, he refilled our glasses, adding ice this time. He pointed to the stool, and I gratefully sat my ass down. This man meant business, and he was going to grill me. I had no doubt in my mind about that.

“Let’s cut to the chase. Neither of us are the type of man who beats around the bush. So let me ask you straight up. What is your intention with my daughter?”

Jesus. Fuck. Talk about shooting straight.

I swirled the ice in my glass, looking at the pattern it made as if it were the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. “If you’re asking if I’m planning to propose any time soon, the answer would be no.”