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“You don’t want me to answer that,” he said. “It wouldn’t be within the timeframe you need, anyway.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes, then slowed and turned. “Timeframe?”

“Ms. Kane isn’t going to wait forever,” he said, shrugging.

“How the fuck do you know about Harper?” he growled, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to.

“It’s my job to know everything, Dufort.”

“You had me followed?” Daniel growled. “That wasn’t part of the fucking deal, Josh.”

“All my clients are monitored while we work together. Call it a trust issue.” Josh shrugged. “Check the fine print under distance monitoring. Or some fucking clause.”

They both knew there was no contract or clause.

“I guess I should’ve expected it,” Daniel said, running his hand over his hair. “Creepy as fuck, though.”

He knew that was the deal when you dealt with men like this. They had their own rules.

Josh laughed.

As they walked farther, the big man clamped him on the shoulder. “I like you, Dufort. If you want my advice, I’d get your ass back to Hawaii before the choice is taken from you. Fuck all this,” he said, waving his arm around at the city. “Power, money, control.”

Would he give it all up for Harper?

Maybe.

Daniel had a responsibility to his family and his employees, but he also had to consider what was best for Harper.

Could he be the man she wanted? Daniel didn’t do things half-heartedly in life, but he had no idea how to be a husband or even a fucking boyfriend. When he looked to the man who taught him everything he knew, he cringed. Johnathan Dufort had been a terrible husband. His mother had suffered terribly, and there was no way he wanted to do that to Harper.

Hell, look at how miserable he’d already made her!

––––––––

THE NEXT MORNING, HE called Fletcher and Hunter over for an early breakfast after listening to the recording approximately ten million times.

They were drinking the last of their coffee when he decided to hit Fletcher up. “Did Olivia get home okay?”

Fletcher avoided his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I put her in an Uber.”

“Were you in it with her?” Daniel asked.

Fletcher’s head snapped up. “Yes. Then I left her at the doorstep. Jesus.”

Daniel’s eyes held his.

“You know the rules, Fletcher. Find someone else to play with.”

God knows his brother had his pick of the bunch. With those bright blue eyes and square fucking jaw, his brother was a damn liability. He’d always chosen the wrong girl in society. The one who was promised to another man, or some damn untouchable princess.

The only consolation—and these were Fletcher’s words—was that he was so good in bed the women kept their lips closed.

Not their legs, apparently, but their lips.

“I’m not playing with Olivia,” Fletch snapped. “She’s a valuable member of the team and we have been working closely together to help you.”

“She likes you.”

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