Chapter Thirteen

Rob

“Good morning,” I say when Harper steps out onto the patio.

“Good morning,” her tone is cold, unfriendly.

Ella and Fitz raise their heads and look at her, quickly jumping to their feet. Harper looks at them apprehensively as they bound toward her, bodies wiggling, tongues flailing around.

“Don't worry,” I say. “They're friendly. Maybe a little too friendly sometimes.”

She squeals and giggles when Ella and Fitz get to her, leaning their massive bodies against her, begging for attention. Harper obliges them, scratching behind their ears. It's not long before she's down on her knees, accepting slobbery kisses from my dogs, enjoying giving them attention as much as they're enjoying getting it.

I take it all in for a few moments, a faint smile touching my lips. My dogs are about as big as Harper and watching her love on them is an adorable scene.

After a few moments, she gets to her feet and walks over to the table I'm sitting at, dropping down into the chair across from me. I grab the pot of coffee that rests on the tray and pour her a cup.

“Thank you,” she says as she pours in some cream and adds a liberal sprinkling of sugar.

We sit in silence for a few moments, sipping our coffee – Ella and Fitz sitting beside Harper, begging her for more attention with their wide, soulful eyes.

“Looks like you made a couple of friends for life,” I say.

She looks down at them, a warm smile spreading across her face. “They're sweet,” she says, that Southern accent sweeter than sugar. “I grew up with dogs, but none as big as those two adorable lugs.”

“It takes a little getting used to their size,” I say. “But they're gentle giants. They're my pride and joy.”

She looks at me, a curious expression on her face. “I wouldn't have taken you for a dog lover.”

I take a sip of coffee and set the mug down. “Why is that surprising?”

“I don't know,” she says. “You just don't seem the type.”

I laugh. “No? What type do I seem then?”

Harper's smile fades and her face grows serious. It's then that I notice the fear lurking behind her eyes. She's doing her best to control it, to avoid letting it color her features, but it's there all the same.

“Honestly, I don't know,” she says. “But...”

Her voice trails off and I can tell that she doesn't want to say what she's thinking. Whether it's because she's afraid of my reaction or because she doesn't want to be rude, I don't know.

“It's okay,” I say. “I'm a big boy. I can take it. Just say what's on your mind.”

She cocks her head, that fear in her eyes growing. But I can also see a stubborn determination take root there as well. She's not going to let herself be intimidated or be thought of as weak. She lifts her chin slightly, her face taking on an expression of what I can only describe as defiance.

“Honestly, you just seem a little – dangerous,” she says. “I don't know what it is, but I can see this – darkness – around you. For lack of a better word. I mean, you seem nice enough, I guess. But if I'm being completely honest, you scare me, Mr. Rossi.”

I take another drink of my coffee and set the mug back down again, the ghost of a smile on my face. I can't say she's wrong. I guess growing up immersed in the world I did, left some scars on me. The terrible, violent world my father had fostered left its dark residue on me. It's an unfortunate consequence of that life, but one I am going to have to deal with for the rest of my days.

“It's Rob,” I correct her again. “And I'm sorry that you feel that way, Harper. The last thing I want to do is scare you. I know this situation is – unusual. And I'm sure that there are a million different things running through your mind as you try and make sense of it all.”

“That's about the understatement of the century.”

“Fair enough,” I say. “But please, if you believe nothing else I say, believe this – I did what I did last night because I want to protect you.”

“Protect me from what though?”

I sigh and look away from her. I can't tell her what Landon and Max had planned for her – that would only add to her mountain of fear. And she doesn't need or deserve that. On the other side of that coin though, she deserves to know.

If Landon somehow manages to come up with the fifty grand he owes me, she has the right to know what she's walking back into because I don't trust Landon to not hand her over to Max again anyway. Landon is a small-time hustler, always looking to make the big score. And I have no doubts that a girl as gorgeous as Harper would bring him a tidy sum from a piece of garbage like Max.

And I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. If Landon somehow comes up with the money, I'm going to tell her. No question about it. But for now, I have to sit on it – despite the fact that it feels like it's gnawing away at my soul.

“From people who might take advantage of you,” I say. “And that's about all I can really say on that, Harper. I think at some point, you're going to want to have a conversation with Landon about all of this. I have a feeling he can provide you with a little more clarity.”

“Yeah, but –”

I raise my hand and give her a look I hope isn't too – scary. “That's all I can say about it right now, Harper,” I say. “I'm sorry. I wish I could explain everything to you, but I can't. At least, not right now.”

She sits back in her seat, a frustrated look on her face – not that I can blame her. I know she wants to know the situation, but it's best if I hold off on telling her. At least, for the moment.

Carla, my house manager comes out bearing a tray and sets it down in front of Harper. She takes the lid off the plate and sets it aside.

“I took the liberty of having Carla make you some breakfast,” I say.

Harper looks like she wants to be stubborn about eating, but I can see by the way she's eyeballing the mound of food that she's hungry. She looks up at me and gives me a small, shy smile and I feel a strange and unexpected tightness in my chest.

There's something about this girl I find intoxicating and entirely compelling. It's crazy, given that I just met her, but when I look at her, my breath catches in my throat and my pulse automatically accelerates – zero to a thousand faster than even my Lamborghini can move.

I do my best to rein it in and check my emotions. She is not something I can afford to let myself get caught up in. Besides, she's terrified of me, so it's not like I'd have a chance with her anyway.

The idea that she could be into a scumbag like Landon though – somebody who would use her and ditch her in a heartbeat – I can't lie, it really burns my ass.

“Thank you,” she says. “I'm actually starving.”

“I thought you might be,” I say.

She picks up her fork and looks at me. “Are you not eating?”

“I actually ate already,” I say. “I have some business to handle today, so I'm going to have to leave for a while. But please, if there is anything you need, Carla will be able to help you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rossi,” she says.

“And please, stop calling me Mr. Rossi,” I say, giving her a smile. “It makes me feel old – and I'm only thirty-five.”

“Wow,” she says, a mischievous grin upon her lips. “Given that I'm only twenty, I'd say that you're pretty old.”

I stand up and chuckle. “Nobody likes a smartass, Harper,” I say. “Anyway, you have free run of the house and grounds. I trust you saw the pool? It should be warm today, so that might be something you want to take advantage of.”

“I – I don't have a suit,” she says.

“I'll have somebody run out and grab you something,” I say. “Just give Carla your measurements and –”

“Maybe, I can go too.”

“For now,” I say, “I'd feel more comfortable if you stuck around the house.”

She looks at me and her eyes narrow, her chin lifting up in that defiant posture again. “So, I'm a prisoner here?”

I sigh and shake my head. “Not a prisoner,” I say. “A guest. A very honored guest.”

“So honored, I'm restricted to the house.”

I look at my watch. “Listen, we can talk about this later. I have to get going,” I say. “Please, enjoy your breakfast and have a good day.”

She says nothing as I turn and walk toward the house. When I get to the sliding glass doors, I look back at her and when I see her wiping away the tears spilling down her cheeks, a wave of guilt comes crashing down over me, nearly pulling me under.

I force myself to turn away, promising myself that I'll deal with it later. For now though, I need to get my head in the game.