As the taxi pulled away, Ema let the tears she’d been holding back race down her face. She felt like she’d had some bad whiplash tonight, emotionally speaking. One minute Knox was accusing her of tipping off the paparazzi, then he was rescuing her from that druggie like some superhero, then he was so stinking cute and transparent with how awkward and embarrassed he was trying to dance with her, then he’d held her close and she thought the world had stopped. She sighed as she remembered how safe and yet on fire she’d felt in his defined arms.

The sigh was replaced with a scowl as she remembered him accusing her, yet again, of not only trying to exploit him with paparazzi, but setting up the attack as if she was an attention-seeker like Paris. What a beast! Did he even stop to think? She’d planned to walk out the front doors of the hotel and he’d thought she told the paparazzi to be there, and then he acted like she also somehow staged an attack down a side alley she hadn’t even known existed.

Brushing the tears away, she banged her head back against the fabric headrest. Why, oh why was she so attracted and intrigued by the stinking Beast? This whole interaction had gotten completely out of hand. She was done with this. She wasn’t going to his house tomorrow. Her career might suffer, but VH1 could do a rerun this week for the show. She really couldn’t handle being around Knox Sherman ever again.

She pulled her phone out of her small purse and found Claire in her contacts. Claire Tucker. Knox might have romantic feelings for his agent. Ema scowled at the name and contact. Then she blew out a breath and dialed the number. What did she care? Claire seemed like a very nice and with-it lady. She hoped Knox was less suspicious of her than he was of Ema.

“Ema,” Claire greeted her warmly. “How was the concert? Is it over already? Ooh, I just love Sloane Kent. Sexy beast, isn’t he?”

Ema grunted out a chortling laugh. Knox was the sexy beast … who she was going to stay far, far away from. “Yes, Sloane’s amazing.”

“Are you still with Knox? How’s the real Beast treating you?”

“Um, Claire, that’s why I’m calling.” Blast it if hot tears didn’t resurface. Why was she acting all emotional and moony over some jerk who’d played with her emotions, then trampled on them? She was too old and tough to act like this. She blinked quickly.

“What did he do?” Claire let out a sigh. “Oh, it’s always heavy with that man.”

Ema scrubbed at her cheek with her palm, studiously listening to Claire’s tone. Maybe Knox wanted more than a professional relationship with Claire, but did his agent reciprocate that desire? Argh! Why did she care? “I can’t do the show tomorrow.”

“Oh, Ema. Was he mean to you?”

“Y-yes.” Ema was sniffling now, and she hated that the driver kept glancing in his rearview mirror. She should’ve waited until she was back at the hotel to make this call. “He was horrid!”

“Oh, sister, I’m sorry. I know how he can be, but I promise it’s just a gruff exterior. He’s a marshmallow underneath.”

Ema actually laughed, and it felt good. “There is nothing marshmallow about that man.”

Claire joined her laughter. “Okay, you’re right. He’s more dark chocolate underneath: dark and delicious and just a tiny bit sweet.”

Ema’s mouth went dry. Yes, dark chocolate underneath could definitely explain Knox. She’d seen a little bit of his sweetness tonight … until he flipped her on her head. He’d seriously grabbed her chest to check for a camera. True, it had been above her bra line, but still. At least she’d slugged him good. She shook her head. “I can’t think about him like that. He was beastly, and I just can’t do that show tomorrow. I’m sorry, Claire.”

“What show will VH1 run next week?”

“They can do a rerun.”

“And how will ABC view that?”

Ema wilted into the stiff cushions, wrapping her hand around her neck. ABC. They probably wouldn’t pull their offer if she failed on one stinking show. Right? She closed her eyes. She didn’t know, and all her hopes and dreams were in her grasp. Knox Sherman. Everybody wanted an exclusive on the Beast, and she had it—if she could get through tomorrow somehow. If only she wasn’t so darned attracted to him. Dark chocolate. Yum. She adored dark chocolate. He also had a little bit of sea salt and almonds mixed in. Her favorite. No, no, no. How could she so quickly forget how he’d treated her? But the man had been through so much in his life, and Paris had obviously clouded his judgment. He had said sorry. That sorry had been substantial and filled with true regret. Oh, goodness, she was a mess where the Beast was concerned.

“Ema?” Claire asked softly.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“This is your big shot, isn’t it?” Claire’s voice was soft and soothing.

Ema’s hackles rose. “You’re a manipulator,” she accused.

Claire laughed, and the sound was deep and rich. “No, I’m a woman who’s been successful in a man’s world. And don’t get me wrong, I love men, but I also love seeing other strong women be successful. You got this, Ema. Put on your big girl panties tomorrow and go to work.”

“My big girl panties?” Ema couldn’t help but laugh again. Despite herself, she liked Claire.

“You’re a professional. A stinking successful professional. Don’t let Knox Sherman keep you from your dreams. You go to that ranch tomorrow and you keep your chin up and you get the exclusive that every entertainment reporter in America would sell their lapdog for. Believe me, I know everybody wants this interview.”

Ema knew she was right. Knox was one of the top players in the NFL, stinking hot, and a confirmed recluse. Could she pass up this opportunity?

“You’ve already had some great footage at Los Tios. Plus, I’ve been able to secure the footage from the bachelor auction for you. And tomorrow, you not only get an interview; you get to tour Knox’s ranch. Nobody, nobody has this opportunity but you. He’s never let me even entertain the idea of a reporter entering his home. To be honest with you, girl, I don’t know that he will let anybody else in. I’ve been his agent for years and I’m lucky to get past his security guards.”

She paused, and Ema let her words sink in—not the insinuation that Knox would only let Ema in, but that Ema was a professional. She was climbing the ladder to success. Knox Sherman couldn’t yank her off that ladder. She could do this.

“What’ll it be, Ema? Are you going to keep rising, or are you going to let some Beast knock you down?”

“I’m rising, baby!” Ema shouted.

The taxi driver turned to look at her.

“Please watch the road,” Ema told him.

Claire was laughing in her ear. “That’s right, girl. You got this. Good luck tomorrow.”

Claire hung up, and Ema sat there, stunned. She had this. She could do this. But the thought of being around Knox for an entire day and keeping her distance and acting professional and not knowing when he’d be kind or when he’d turn into a beast—it all had her hands trembling like a hiker with vertigo and no climbing ropes at the top of Mt. Everest. One wrong step and she would fall thousands of feet.

Knox got home early, but his foul mood worsened when Genevieve told him Shelby was already asleep. He took some calming breaths and snuck into his daughter’s room, letting the peace of her gentle breathing lull over him. He crept close and kissed her soft cheek, inhaling the scent of baby lotion. Ah, his girl. She was all that mattered. Maybe he should quit football and just focus on being her dad. But then what about the beast inside him that he could only release at practice and during games? What if he got angry with Shelby without that physical out? He drew back, his gut wrenching at the thought of ever treating Shelby unkindly. Yet he’d treated Ema horribly, and the memory made him sick. Why had he been so beastly with her?

Turning, he quickly slipped out of Shelby’s room. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Claire. Whew. He was in for it.

“What?” he barked.

“Did you seriously unleash the Beast on that innocent creature?”

“Claire, it wasn’t that bad.” But he was lying. It was much worse than he could stand to think about. Innocent creature? Was Ema innocent, or was she a repeat of Paris? Who knew?

“Wasn’t that bad? She called me in tears. She wanted to cancel the tour tomorrow.”

Tears? Ah, no. He hated to think he’d made Ema cry. His mom had raised him better than that. “Good,” he said, even though he wanted to ask how to make up for his mistakes. Cancelling the show would be a good solution, though. If he never had to see the exquisite Ema again, he could move on with his life—raising his daughter, playing football, managing the billions entrusted to him for Shelby’s future.

“Not good! Knox, you are such a punk. Wheaties!” She yelled it in his ear and he had to pull the phone away a few inches. “Does Wheaties mean nothing to you?”

Knox shook his head and jammed his hand through his hair. He wanted Wheaties. Dang Claire. She knew his weaknesses like nobody else. “Stop manipulating me, Claire.”

“Manipulating? All I ever do is in your best interest. Without me, you wouldn’t even be playing football. Nobody wants to deal with the Beast without his trainer around. I’m your trainer, Knox, and you need to listen to me and listen good.”

Ema had soothed the beast in him better than Claire ever could. At least, she had until he’d freaked out.

“What, Claire?” He walked through his suite and into his master closet, sliding out of his shoes and unbuttoning and yanking his shirt off as he listened to her answer.

“You’ve got this, man. You’re a stud through and through, and the only people who know that are your Army brothers, your sister, your nephews, me, Shelby, Nellie, and Genevieve. Let the world see it for one blasted minute, and Wheaties and anything else you want are yours.”

Knox listened to her pep talk, appreciating that she thought he was a stud. The few people who truly knew him did love him and were loyal to him. He’d never hurt an innocent person. Maybe the beast inside him wasn’t as horrid as he feared. He walked into his attached master bath, and though the lights were low, spilling from the bedroom, he could see the scars decorating his chest and shoulder. The land mine that killed his best friends had left its mark on him too. Those marks went much further than skin-deep.

“How are you going to talk Ema into coming after the way I acted tonight?” Was it really worth the Wheaties box? Ema was playing with his mind. He didn’t truly believe she was a Paris, the type of woman who loved to mess with a guy’s mind, but he was simply too drawn to her. His life was dedicated to protecting Shelby, not falling for beautiful island girls.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of it.” Claire was smug and proud of her manipulative abilities.

“You’re a con artist, my friend.”

She laughed. “I’m a professional that rocks my field, and you’re dang lucky to have me on your team.”

“That’s true, too.” He pulled in a breath and pushed it out. “So she’ll be here in the morning?” Why did he feel so relieved to know she was coming? He needed to lock his heart and just get through the day.

“Nine a.m. Put on that pretty smile for me, please?”

Knox had always hated his pretty-boy face. Luckily, the army had scarred it up a little bit, but women still acted all silly when he smiled. “I’ll try.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing. Get some sleep, my man. Good things are happening for you.”

“Thanks, Claire.” He hung up and forced himself to brush his teeth before walking to his bed and flinging himself on the memory foam mattress. Good things, huh? He doubted Ema Kahue felt good about coming to the Beast’s lair tomorrow. As he closed his eyes, he thought he could feel her lovely form encased in his arms as they’d danced. Too bad he’d never feel that again.