Ema Kahue straightened the satin overlay of her blue dress. She had no reason to be nervous—she was on television every week—but something about bidding on a date with the hunky Knox Sherman at this charity auction had her stomach pitching.

“Excuse me,” she murmured to Mike, her camera guy. He was always by her side, but he didn’t have the camera this Friday night; she’d just brought him for moral support. “I’m going to find a toilet to puke in.”

Mike grinned at her, brushing his longish blond hair back. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. The Beast is mortal.”

The Beast was an army hero, a billionaire, a world-renowned defensive end, and the most handsome face she’d ever seen, all while raising his best friend’s daughter. No way was he a mere mortal.

“So his parents claim.” Ema tossed Mike a brave smile and made her way out of the banquet room and into the wide convention center hallway, where she could breathe a little better. It wasn’t just bidding on Knox Sherman, the most private celebrity she’d ever encountered, that had her uneasy. If she didn’t play her part carefully, Knox would never allow her and Mike to invade his sanctuary and get the footage they needed for her show, Live Like a Celeb. She spent two to three days of each week in different celebrities’ homes, and then production edited and aired her show. Everyone loved the quick turnaround and personalization of her show. The stars could tout their latest product, movie release, or whatever was pertinent to them marketing-wise, and the public got an inside look into their lives.

Live Like a Celeb had climbed from an Amazon original to VH1, but her agent was in negotiations with ABC currently. Winning the Miss Hawaii pageant in college had been a huge help to her dreams of succeeding in broadcast journalism. Her whole family was proud. Her mom was from Alabama and had been a successful model before her marriage to Ema’s huge Hawaiian father. She’d always told Ema she was going to do great things, but nobody else from Kauai would’ve dreamed their little Ema would have her own reality show on ABC someday.

Thinking of agents, she wished Knox Sherman’s agent could’ve simply secured Ema a two- or three-day in-home interview. No other movie star or professional athlete had refused them entry in the past six months since they gained popularity and moved to VH1, but apparently not even Knox’s agent, Claire, had much sway with him. Claire said he only agreed to the charity auction tonight because it was benefiting military vets. He had graduated from Army West Point and served in the military for four years after graduation before being recruited to the Patriots for two years and transferring to the Titans last year.

Ema found the restroom and ran her hands under cold water, eyeing herself in the mirror. Her dark brown hair hung in loose spiral curls down her back, and luckily her bronzed skin didn’t show how flushed and stressed she was. She blotted a bit of shine from her nose, applied another layer of cinnamint gloss, took a deep breath for confidence, and flung the bathroom door open.

She heard a whack, a loud grunt, and the door sprang back at her.

“Oh, no! Did I bust you up?” She peeked around the door.

Knox Sherman of all people stood there with a noticeable red mark on his forehead and a frown marring his perfect face. He looked better than any movie star she’d met, with his dark beard and hair perfectly trimmed and his signature lips—the top like Cupid’s bow and the bottom just full enough to make you want to taste it. His dark eyes were lined by thick lashes and even darker brows. His skin was the most beautiful olive tone she’d ever seen; women would pay any amount of money to have skin that flawless, even with the few scars he’d probably earned overseas. He wore a tailored navy-blue suit, which couldn’t hide the muscles on his six-five frame. Mere mortal? Nope.

He touched his forehead and a wry smile curved those perfect lips. “You tried,” he said.

Ema laughed and stepped out of the bathroom and next to the drinking fountain where he stood. Maybe this guy didn’t deserve his grumpy label. “I’m sorry. I was swinging that door to prove I could take on the world.”

“I’m sure you could.” His eyes roved over her face and his smile grew. Gesturing past himself, he stepped back and said, “Don’t let me stand in the way of world-taking-on.”

Ema’s palms stopped sweating and her dress didn’t feel so constrictive. The Beast was nothing to be intimidated about. True, he was built like a tank, but he was nice and kind of funny. She was tempted to simply ask him about hosting the show at his ranch and avoid having to spend VH1’s sponsor money on the auction. They’d given her a green light, though. She guessed they needed write-offs as much as the next guy, and it was for a great cause.

“If you decided to stand in my way, I’d be sunk,” she said.

Knox folded his arms across his chest, making his biceps and the large muscles in his shoulders bulge under his suit coat. “Are you suggesting you want me in your way?”

Ema’s face went hot and she praised her Polynesian ancestors for her dark skin that didn’t show a blush. “Maybe … but I’d rather talk with you about staying at your house.”

His brows drew together and he clenched his arms tightly, making his muscles stiffen. All traces of a smile had left the building.

Oh, shoot, that hadn’t come out right.

“Mr. Sherman, it’s time, sir.” A beautiful dark-haired lady with blue eyes touched his arm and pointed toward the banquet room.

“Thank you, Maggie.” He followed the woman without another word to Ema, who stood there with her mouth hanging open. Her devoted followers loved her show because she said exactly what she thought, so she didn’t always have the filter between her mouth and her brain turned on. It made for great footage, but she was humiliated that Knox Sherman probably thought she’d just propositioned him. Especially since it was common knowledge he didn’t invite anyone to his estate and horse ranch outside of Dallas. Her stupid line made it all that much more horrible.

Knox glanced over his shoulder before he held one of the double doors to the ballroom for the lovely Maggie. Ema’s and Knox’s eyes connected, and Ema thought she caught a glimpse of his vulnerabilities and desires. In that moment, she knew the truth: he didn’t invite anyone into his heart, or his home, because of the heartache he’d seen in his life. Just as quickly as she’d seen it, his eyes shuttered, and he glowered at her and turned away. The doors shut behind him.

Ema pushed out a long breath and made her way back to the entrance she’d come out of. The entrance for mortals who stuck their feet in their mouths. She didn’t mind her stupid comments when the camera was rolling, but right now she wanted rewind and delete buttons.

Knox stared around the large room of the convention center. He and his fellow teammates were up front, facing the crowd. It put him on edge to know that everyone was staring at him, especially since one of these highly polished women would win the bid on him and he’d be forced to go on a date.

He made it through the meal mostly in silence, only talking to Cole for a few minutes. Riker tried to engage him in conversation, but Knox’s one-word answers left those attempts trailing off. Knox glanced at Walker and the Titans’ center gave him a chin bob with no smile. Walker was Knox’s kind of guy. His teammates were good guys, probably interesting to talk to, but he didn’t care to get chummy with anyone. He’d been chummy with his platoon, and look where that got him—counseling every week and nightmares every night. There wasn’t the danger of physically losing a brother like when he was deployed, but football players were traded, retired, had career-ending injuries. What was the use of friendships that would just disappear? He was happy with his staff, who were as close to him as his only living sister, and his daughter, as long as her mother didn’t show up and try to exploit her.

He smiled, thinking of his daughter, Shelby. Three years old, happy, and adorable. She was his motivation for everything, and the reason he stayed far away from scheming women.

“Smile like that again and the other half of the women in the room will pass out,” Riker whispered to him.

Knox slowly turned to look at Riker. “I don’t care what any of them think. I’m only here for Scar and the vets.”

“Sheesh, Beast.” Riker drew back. “I’m always glad you’re on my team.”

That made Knox smile again. “Don’t ever let yourself get traded.”

Riker chuckled. “You’d rip my head clean off, wouldn’t you?”

“With pleasure.” Knox had led the league in sacks the past three years. Riker was a quick quarterback and would be tough to pin down, but Knox liked a challenge.

Everyone was wrapping up their dinner when Scar came out and introduced tonight’s MC and auctioneer, Maia. Did she have no last name, like Prince or Madonna? Weird Hollywood women. Her name meant little to Knox—he didn’t watch television besides kids’ shows—but when Scar mentioned the new princess movie Maia was the voice for, Knox perked up. Shelby loved any princess movie, and the two of them either read together or watched a princess show in the afternoon when she needed some downtime.

Maia walked onstage, and when she spoke, her voice was familiar. Shelby had watched the trailer for her upcoming movie over and over again. It helped Knox relax a fraction. He hated being bid on like common cattle, and he hated even more the thought of going on a date with some calculating, wealthy woman, but it was for a good cause. He rolled his neck and forced himself to unclench his fists. It’d be over soon, and if he hurried home, he’d get to sing Shelby to sleep. He’d begged his adopted aunt and Shelby’s live-in nanny, Genevieve, to let her stay up late tonight, even though they’d both pay for it tomorrow. His girl was grumpy without sleep.

His eyes swept the crowd as everyone else was focused on Maia. Which one of these overdressed, over-styled, overconfident woman would he be forced to spend an evening with? Why would any of them even want to spend an evening with him? His fellow football players would be much more friendly and fun for a woman to be around. Maybe Knox would get lucky and nobody would bid on him. He tugged at his tie, almost pulling it loose. No, he wanted to raise money for the vets. He’d happily donate more than anyone would bid on him if they’d just let him out of here.

He and his agent, Claire, had gone the rounds about tonight and some other crazy idea—a cheesy reality TV show host had requested to come into his home, stay for a few days, and video his life. Who would want to put their life and their family on display for the world like that? His hands got sweaty just thinking about it. It wasn’t simply his love of privacy; he had to protect Shelby from would-be predators, kidnappers, conniving women, and her own mother. He had nightmares about all of them, especially since he’d had half a dozen young nannies try to use Shelby’s affection to make a romantic play for him. It made his skin crawl.

Shelby’s mother, Paris, really made his skin crawl. She’d taken a huge settlement from his deceased best friend, Tyler, to sign over Shelby to Knox at birth. Paris was the ultimate diva and occasionally showed up hoping Knox would fall for her and trying to get pictures with him and Shelby to boost her social media. He rarely let himself think about the kidnapping attempt on Shelby when she was only six months old. The perpetrators had been caught and he’d protected his girl. His private investigators were ninety percent certain Paris was behind the attempt, but the police hadn’t been convinced yet. It had made him shut out the world even more.

Finally Claire had conceded the fight and told him if he did the auction she’d back down on the home invasion idea, for now. For now. He hated those words where any woman was concerned. Paris had signed over all parental rights for an obscene amount of money, but she’d already tried to come back several times to mess up his adopted daughter. Shelby’s biological father, Tyler, who had been Knox’s best friend and a billionaire, had set Shelby up for life and beyond. Money wasn’t an issue for Knox with his salary and sponsorships, so he simply managed Shelby’s future holdings for her. If only Tyler had survived that land mine. He’d died before Shelby was even born, some kind of intuition guiding him to set up all the paperwork to leave Knox to raise his orphaned daughter and protect her from Paris.

Knox’s neck tightened and his gut churned as he thought of Tyler’s death. The room felt like it was closing in. His breath shortened as he tugged at his tie.

“You okay, man?” Riker asked.

Knox nodded quickly, appreciating the interruption of his thoughts. Riker really was a stand-up dude. Knox took a few calming breaths and a long guzzle of his water, then forced himself to look at the crowd again and tried not to think. Thinking brought panic attacks and worse.

His eyes settled on the dark-haired woman who’d slammed the bathroom door into him before dinner. He almost smiled at the memory. Talking to her may have been the first time he’d enjoyed a conversation with a beautiful woman, until she insinuated she wanted to forget any innocent flirtations and jump right into staying at his place. Wow. Women were just pushy, terrifying creatures. Best he kept his distance, no matter that he’d felt a strange connection to her. Like she’d been able to read him when their eyes met.

He heard Maia say his name and forced himself to stand and step toward the stage. Being first meant the agony would be over faster.

“Come on, dude, give them one smile,” Riker teased him.

Knox sent him such a fierce glare, it should’ve knocked him over. Riker only laughed. Knox ignored him and stepped up to Maia’s side, towering over her. She tilted her head up and smiled at him. It was a nice smile, and he was relieved that she wasn’t one of those sharky kinds of women. Her hands shook slightly as she shuffled through a stack of cards. Had he not been right there on stage, he wouldn’t have noticed. But then, he’d been trained to notice those kinds of things. Knowing she was a little bit terrified made him even more comfortable with her.

“Knox Sherman. The Beast. We truly feel honored to have you here. The reports are you don’t date much.” Her voice was light, non-threatening, and not at all suggestive. If he’d had a little sister, he’d want her to be wholesome and innocent like Maia. She reminded him of a kid selling lemonade on a hot summer’s day. Of course, she wasn’t a kid—not in that dress.

Knox had to smile at her opening lines. “I don’t date at all, ma’am.”

“And yet, here you are, donating a date to help injured vets and those struggling with PTSD.”

Knox kept his expression neutral. Nobody but his therapist, his pastor, and Aunt Genny knew that he struggled with PTSD himself.

“Can you tell me a little bit about the type of woman that catches your eye?” Maia asked.

For some reason, his eyes strayed to the exotic-looking beauty again. He’d noticed how tall and well-formed she was, definitely some Polynesian background with her beautiful face, skin, and shape. “No, ma’am. Not a woman alive could catch my eye.” Even as he said it, his eyes lingered on the woman in the blue dress. Would he burn for lying? It didn’t matter. He had to keep his distance.

Maia arched her eyebrows. “I’ll bet there’s a heartfelt reason behind that answer. You can’t be as intimidating as you pretend to be.” She led him to a chance to open up.

Knox winced. He was every bit as intimidating as he pretended to be, and he had no plans to change. Yet he kept reminding himself that he was here for the vets and shouldn’t scare away every potential female bidder. He pushed out a breath and murmured, “I have a three-year-old daughter and she is my first priority. That’s why I don’t date … much.” Another lie—he didn’t date at all.

Dreamy sighs came from women close to the front. They thought it was cute, or maybe they thought he would be sensitive because he was devoted to Shelby. Far from it: they should realize that his love for his daughter meant they had no chance with him, other than this one forced date. Tyler used to tease him that his handsome face was a blessing and a curse. Nope. It was a straight-up curse. Why did women care that he was handsome? With the demons in his head, he’d be a horrid boyfriend and an even worse husband. Just another reason he stayed away from women.

He forced another smile at Maia. “Shelby loves princess movies, and she’s looking forward to the release of The Princess and the Well of the World’s End.” He mentally cursed. Now he sounded like a commercial for animated shows and he’d just shared his daughter’s name in a room full of sharky women. This was why he didn’t participate in events like this.

“Ah.” Maia put a hand to her heart. “Thank you.” She lowered the mic and whispered, “Thanks for the plug—the studio will love that.” Bringing the mic back up to her full red lips, she threw her arm to the side. “Well, ladies, who can resist a heartthrob like this who is also a devoted father? Shall we start the bidding at fifty thousand?”

Knox shifted his weight and prayed. I’m trying to be charitable, Lord. Please let this be over quick, and let the woman who buys me be kind and not interested in my face, my body, or any kind of stimulating conversation.

Ema tried to catch a full breath after the second time she’d noticed Knox Sherman looking at her. Whew, the man could heat up a girl’s blood with one brooding look. What was he, a good-looking version of Edward Rochester? Well, Ema was no Jane Eyre, so she was safe from falling for the dark, passionate hero. She stifled a smile, doubting Knox had that much fire in him. Then again, the way he played football and how he’d just declared his devotion to his daughter … Hmm, maybe there was a passionate heart lingering under that hard, perfect-looking exterior.

She hated all the longing sighs women were giving when he talked about his daughter and the few times he’d cracked a smile, which transformed his face from picture-perfect to carved by angels. Ema’s hands tightened around her bidding paddle. She was winning this bid and the rest of these women could back up a step.

Maia, the princess sweetheart, started the bidding at fifty thousand. A blonde in a tight black dress threw her paddle up quickly. The bidding jumped in five-thousand-dollar increments as a gorgeous redhead and a petite brunette joined in. Ema waited, not wanting to run the bid up on herself.

As the number reached a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, Maia took a breath and paused, grinning at Knox. “Whew. We’re starting this off right tonight. Just to give these women a little more incentive for their generous donation, what do you plan to do on this dream date?”

“Whatever she wants,” Knox growled, his glower deepening.

“Whatever?” Maia’s eyebrows arched up. Her question wasn’t an insinuation—she was too sweet and adorable for that—but Ema could tell a lot of the women took it that way.

Knox’s brow furrowed. “Look,” he ground out, his glare sweeping the room and slowing down to focus on each of the women who’d dared to bid on him. “I’m only here for Scar and the vets. Can we please get this over with?”

Maia took a small step backward.

“Wow. He’s kind of scary,” an older lady next to Ema muttered.

Ema didn’t think he was scary, just private. How was it going to go over when she bought him and told him why she’d done it? She straightened her back, and when Maia quietly resumed the bidding and said, “Who will give me one hundred and twenty-five thousand?” Ema waited for someone to respond. None of the former bidders moved. Ema smiled and lifted her paddle; Knox had done her sponsors a huge favor getting all grumpy and defensive.

Knox’s gaze swung to her, and the fierceness in his eyes melted away as they connected from across the room. She tried to tell him with her gaze that she wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t take advantage of him, no matter what dumb thing she’d said earlier. He seemed to be studying her soul and she wasn’t sure if she came up short or not.

“One hundred and thirty thousand?” Maia called out.

The room was deathly silent. Knox’s fierce statement and glare had obviously scared the rest of the bidders away. That was fine by Ema, who’d been pinned by Knox’s unblinking gaze like a butterfly.

Maia waited and waited, then said, “Going once, going twice … Sold! One hundred and twenty-five thousand to the beautiful lady in the blue dress.”

Knox finally broke his concentration on Ema and stalked away from Maia and back to his seat. Riker Dylan, the new quarterback for the Titans, said something to him and laughed at his own comment. Knox flashed him a token smile, then reclined into his chair and focused on Ema again.

The rest of the auction was a blur to her, and she seesawed between trying to avoid Knox’s gaze and allowing herself to give in and get tangled in this nonverbal communication with him. He was intense, and the lady next to her was on to something: there was something scary about him. But it wasn’t scary like he would hurt her physically—more that he could devastate her emotionally. She was in way over her head.

“Oh, my, he seems to really like you,” the same older lady commented.

“No. I think he’s mad I bought the date with him.”

“Take a chaperone with you, dear.” The lady patted her hand. “I think that one’s a warrior who could devastate an innocent beauty like you.”

Ema looked at the older lady. “I don’t think he’d hurt me.”

The lady pursed her lips. “I hope you’re right, but there are other dangers. Any young beauty would be at a huge risk of falling for a handsome, broody man like that.”

Ema couldn’t help but stiffly nod her agreement.

Mike nudged her from the other side. “You okay, boss?”

Ema forced a smile. “Never better. It’s all working out perfectly. I’ll talk to Knox after the auction and get us set up for the visit.”

He nodded, but his dark blue eyes looked uneasy. Mike was always a little overprotective of her. He’d insinuated and badgered far too many times that they should take their relationship past working together, but Ema didn’t feel any connection to him, no matter how good-looking and competent he was.

The auction finally wound down and people stood, milling around. Despite her brave words to Mike, Ema didn’t know if she dared talk to Knox right now or if she should simply let his agent work out the details. She had about decided to walk out of the conference room and let the agent deal with Knox’s backlash when she smelled his crisp Perry Ellis scent—it was a mix of bergamot, lavender, and amber that she had always been partial to. His large palm wrapped tenderly around her elbow. She glanced up and noticed how tightly clenched his jaw was, a muscle working furiously in it. A contrast to how gently he was touching her.

“You and I need to talk,” he muttered.

Ema nodded and allowed him to lead her away.

“Chaperone,” the lady from dinner called to her back.

Ema laughed and gave the lady a thumbs-up behind her back.

“What was that?” Knox demanded.

“That lady told me I shouldn’t go anywhere alone with you.”

Knox’s cheek crinkled and it looked like he was going to smile, but he didn’t. “She’s a smart woman.”

Ema didn’t know what to say to that.

Knox took her out into the open corridor, down the hallway, and into an alcove leading into a vacant conference room. He stopped, released her elbow, and faced her. “Why did you buy me?”

“Wow. Somebody’s direct.”

He held up a hand. “I don’t play games, Ms. …”

“Kahue,” she supplied, sounding it out: Ka-hoo-ee. Most mainlanders failed miserably at pronouncing Hawaiian names.

“Ms. Kahue.” He said it correctly. “You already showed that you’re interested in coming home with me. You need to know right up front that no matter how beautiful you are, you will never stay the night with me or be invited into my home.”

Ema’s eyes widened. He’d just called her beautiful, but it didn’t feel like a compliment. “I didn’t mean it like … that.”

He arched a challenging eyebrow, obviously not believing her.

“I’m the host of Live Like a Celeb.”

His eyes didn’t give any indication that he knew what she was talking about.

“We come into celebrities’ homes for a few days and then show the world their mansions and insights into their personal lives. We release within a week of filming, so you can send out up-to-date info to the world about any products or events you might want to share.”

Her plug fell flat as his jaw clamped tight and his eyes darkened. “Claire sent you,” he muttered.

She nodded. “Claire thought I could get through to you this way. Instead of a date with you, I’d like to bring my film crew in and interview you at your house.” When he swelled, looking ready to explode, she held up a hand. “I won’t stay for days like I usually do, just a few hours …” She paused, scrambling for that connection she’d felt earlier to him. What was he afraid of? It dawned on her, and she spit it out quick. “We can keep your daughter out of it.”

He still said nothing, but his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Please, Knox …” She cleared her throat as his dark eyes seemed to thaw, but maybe that was wishful thinking. “I mean, Mr. Sherman. A candid glimpse would be a good thing for your career and your sponsors. Claire said you would agree.”

He took a step closer and his warm breath brushed her forehead. She was tall, but this guy was a giant. “Claire is fired,” he growled.

Ema’s eyes widened. She wrapped her hands around his forearms and got temporarily distracted by the breadth of them, the corded muscles that seemed to singe her hands as she held on to them.

He glanced down at her right hand, then back at her, blinking but not moving from her touch.

She struggled to remain focused on their conversation. “No. Please don’t fire Claire. We shouldn’t have tried to get you to agree this way.”

“Dang straight you shouldn’t have.” His brow was so furrowed she could’ve driven a tractor through it.

Ema released his forearms and gently rubbed at the furrow. “It’s okay, big guy.”

He stared at her as if in a trance. His breath shortened and their eyes caught and held.

Ema’s fingers stilled on his forehead, and then, without realizing what she was doing, she trailed her fingertips across his brow and down his temple until they reached the short hair of his beard and lingered there. She licked her lips and took a brave step forward. “Sun’s going down. Sun’s getting real low.”

Knox’s hand darted up and grabbed hers, pulling it away from his face. “What are you doing?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She had no clue what she was doing. “I, um … I was just trying to calm you down. Like, you know, Natasha does for the Hulk.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “Well, I’m not the Hulk, and you and I have no connection.”

Ema’s hand felt warm and safe encased in his, and sparks flew between them when he looked at her. Either he was lying about their lack of connection, or she was delusional. “That’s hurtful,” she muttered.

For a moment his face softened and he gave her a genuine smile, but then his morose expression returned. He released her hand and took a huge step back. “You and Claire can take your schemes and try them on somebody else.”

“Please.” She wasn’t above begging, and not just for her show; she really liked Claire and didn’t want the woman to lose a big-time client. “We weren’t trying to pull a scheme on you. The public is dying to know more about you. Claire is trying to be a good agent. I promise my show will paint you in a good light.”

“You think I care what the public thinks of me?” he growled at her.

It was Ema’s turn to step back. “I, well, most people care about what others think.”

“I’m not most people, Ms. Kahue, and you’d better stand down.” His dark eyes were shooting full-on bullets at her, and she could see why he’d moved up the ranks in the military so quickly. “If I see you anywhere near my home or my daughter, I won’t leave you to the mercy of my overly qualified security team. I will personally throw you off my property and get a restraining order against you.”

Ema sucked in a quick breath. He was vicious and more than a little intimidating right now. “Yes sir, sergeant, sir,” she said sarcastically, falling back on the only weapon she knew.

“You’ve been researching me?” He stepped close again, and Ema was suddenly terrified. He was every bit as scary as that older lady had insinuated.

“Y-yes. I always do my research before I start a job.”

He bent closer to her, and her heart thudded quicker and quicker. She wasn’t physically afraid of him, though he could easily overpower her. She sensed he was honorable toward women, but there was something scary yet alluring about him.

“You’re done researching me,” he said. “My private life is not up for dissection and film crews. I hope for your sake, Ms. Kahue, that we never see each other again.”

With that, he spun and strode down the hallway.

“You still owe me a date,” Ema called to his back, proud of herself for her bravery. Or maybe it was sheer stupidity. She wasn’t scared of what he could physically do, despite his hulking frame, but getting close to him was an insurmountable obstacle, like hoping to climb Everest without any help from the Sherpas.

He turned slowly and met her gaze. Then he stalked back toward her. Each slow step was like a funeral march—Ema’s funeral. She gulped, but the lump in her throat didn’t leave. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. Ema stood her ground, even though she wanted to throw a white flag at him, yell that he’d won, and sprint the other direction.

He stopped half a foot away from her and his gaze pinned her in place. “You want your date?” he growled.

Ema’s hands clenched into fists, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of backing away or diverting her eyes like she wanted to do. “Yes, I do. I purchased it. If …” She lifted an eyebrow. “You can promise to be a gentleman.”

His eyes widened and he blinked at her. “I may not be some charmer, but I treat ladies with respect, Miss Kahue.”

She nodded and hoped he couldn’t see she was trembling from head to toe. He wasn’t going to rip her apart like he would the quarterback of an opposing team. He inhaled and released a few powerful breaths through his nose, and she wondered if he was attempting to calm himself or coming up with a way to slip out of the date.

“But do you keep your word to a lady?” she asked, clenching her hands tightly together.

His eyes swept over her and the muscles in his neck bunched. Finally, he muttered so quietly she barely heard him: “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Ema stood tall and tried to act professional. “Where shall we meet?”

“Los Tios.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. The Mexican restaurant was in the historic section of Fort Worth and was owned by Ace Sanchez’s family. Ace was a legend with the Titans and the restaurant was extremely popular, especially since Ace’s sister had married Rennen Bradley, an all-star running back for the Titans who was known as The Ghost. “I love the food there, but it’s not a very intimate setting, so you may have a different idea.”

His brow lowered again and he leaned closer to her. He smelled amazing, from his cologne to the breath mint he must’ve popped in after dinner. “If you want intimacy, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Fury raced through her and she tilted her chin up. He thought he was so big and bad, but she wasn’t going to retreat. “I wasn’t hoping for intimacy, Mr. Sherman. I simply know you’re a private person, and Los Tios is a hot spot for paparazzi and cleat chasers.”

“I appreciate your consideration.” He rolled his eyes. “But we’ll be fine in a back booth.”

She licked her lips and bravely said, “There won’t be much room for my camera crew.”

His face darkened again and his eyes become colder than ever. “You bring your camera crew and I’ll be gone before the chips and salsa arrive.”

Ema’s hand flew to her neck then in a protective gesture, and she took a steadying breath. Why did he have to be so intimidating? She steeled her spine. She was tougher than this Beast realized. She could climb Everest without Sherpas or ice picks. “You promised to keep your word to a lady,” she reminded him.

“You wanted a date; that’s all you’ll get. I’ll see you tomorrow night at seven.” With that, he turned and stalked away.

Ema watched him go, her heart slamming against her chest. Did she really want to spend one more second around that man? Yet, at moments tonight, she’d caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. He’d been wounded deeply and all the anger and coldness were simply barriers to keep his heart, and his daughter, safe. She wished he would let her into his private world.

She rolled her eyes at herself. As if he was going to share his secrets with her. Her career alone would keep him from telling her anything of depth. He liked his privacy. The whole idea of spotlighting him for her show was stupidity, overambitious, career suicide, and a whole slew of other bad ideas.

“Well, that went well,” Mike said from behind her.

“How long have you been there?” she asked without turning to him. She couldn’t take her eyes off the retreating figure of the man who looked and acted like the beast they claimed he was on the football field, but she sensed it wasn’t just his anger at having his privacy threatened. He was protecting his daughter. Had something happened to the little girl that wasn’t public knowledge? She’d seen overprotective fathers, but Knox took it to a whole new level.

“I was hiding around the corner. Didn’t want to get in that guy’s way.”

“He wouldn’t have hurt you.” Ema hugged herself for warmth, suddenly depressed at the thought of never being close to Knox again. That was silly. She didn’t even know him.

“Says you. He wouldn’t hurt a female, I’m sure. As angry as he was just now, he would’ve pummeled me.”

Ema wondered if Mike was right. How much anger was built up inside of Knox Sherman? No wonder he was so effective at sacking quarterbacks.