Vera caught me as I was heading back to my office. “Your three forty-five appointment is in your office.”

“Who—?” But I then I saw the expression on Vera’s face, and I knew. “Michelle.”

“Yes. She insisted on waiting in there.”

And that said everything you needed to know about Michelle. Pushy. Entitled.

I stormed into my office, knowing this had to end. A promise was a promise, but Michelle was taking advantage of this situation. Enough was enough.

She stood when I entered and leaned her back against my desk. She wore an ankle-length fur coat though the weather outside was in the sixties. Her hair was swept up in an elaborate style, and her face was fully-made up. Battle paint, it seemed like. As if she was expecting an argument.

“What’s this about a diamond necklace?”

“Necklace? What necklace?” Michelle asked, her words as insincere as her tone. “Oh, do you mean this one?” Her hands met at her waist and then she pulled her coat open.

She was wearing the necklace, all right. I could see it sparkling from here. She wore the necklace… and high heels… and nothing else.

* * *

Holy shit.

Exactly how many times was I going to walk in on a mostly naked woman in my own office?

Michelle’s smile was amused. Knowing. And inviting.

And it was the only part of her I was willing to look at.

“Put your coat back on,” I growled.

Instead, she spread her arms wider, opening the coat more. Her look was both an invitation—and a challenge.

Nobody issued a challenge in my office besides me.

I strode toward her. “Turn around,” I barked.

She did so willingly, placing her hands on the edge of my desk, clearly anticipating being taken from behind.

Tearing off my tie, I moved up behind her. She flinched when my arms went around her waist. Pressing the ends of my tie into her hands, I spoke in a firm voice. “Tie your coat together like a robe.”

“But don’t you want to—“

“No,” I growled. “I don’t. Tie it together.”

I pressed my body against her back, not letting her move until she’d done so. Then I took her by the shoulders and spun her around, pushing her into a chair. “Sit there. Legs together. Arms on the armrests. Now.”

Stalking away from her, I circled my desk and sat down. Michelle had complied with my orders and was modestly covered. Thank god.

“I’m not interested in you.”

“You’ve made that pretty clear,” she said, her voice brittle.

Damn. I wasn’t happy with her stunt, but I didn’t want her crying in my office, either. “I’m seeing someone. Someone important to me. Maybe check that next time before showing up without any clothes.”

“Like that old gray mare out there would tell me anyway. Vera hates me.”

“Because she thinks you’re taking advantage of my generosity.”

“And what do you think?” Michelle leaned forward, the top of her coat gaping open, and she started to cross her legs.

“Uh-uh. Sit back, feet flat on the floor, or I tell Vera what you did and ask her to find some clothes for you. I’m sure she’ll pick out something very flattering, just for you.”

The threat worked, and Michelle sat back.

“What do you think my father would say if he knew how you were treating me right now?” Michelle’s counterstrike was desperate—but on target. She knew how to get to me.

“As a father, I think he’d probably be pretty happy I’m not currently fucking his daughter against my desk.”

She continued on as if she hadn’t heard me. “You promised him you’d take care of me. It was his dying wish. Your old friend’s dying wish.”

Shit, she knew how to deliver low blows. I had no defense against the dying wish part, but the rest was a bit of a stretch. Edwin Grant hadn’t been my friend; he’d been a business associate—one with a hopelessly outdated company that was almost bankrupt.

My staff and I had met with him a few times. He owned several factories that still operated as they did forty years ago in his father’s time. Hollister Holdings had made him an offer. A more generous one that we should have. Despite his lack of business sense, I’d liked Edwin. He was a nice man. Quick with a joke or to offer a cigar. Or Scotch.

Days before he was to sell his company to us, we toured one last factory. He had a heart attack and collapsed, right there on the factory floor. He died in my arms. His last words had been hard to hear at first. “Me… Mish… Mish-a. Take care… of her… please… my… my… daugh—“

He’d never finished the last syllable. Later, I’d met his wife she introduced her daughter, Michelle, to me. That’s when I realized that Grant’s dying wish had been for me to take care of Michelle. The young woman had seemed heartbroken over the loss of her father. I vowed right then to take care of her as best I could. And I had, for years. Supplying money. Meeting her for lunch. It was the only promise I’d ever made that I hadn’t broken—until now.

“This ends today, Michelle. The money. The lunches. You’re an adult, you can take care of yourself.”

“How?” The word seemed to escape her lips unbidden. It had been bald—and honest. It was a nice change of pace.

“I suggest getting a job.”

Now the calculating look returned to her face. Her lip curled up in a half-smile. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Her hand grazed across the soft fur of her coat, but she didn’t make any move to open it again.

“I’ve made it pretty clear you can’t. I’m seeing someone, and I’m very happy. I suggest you find some way to be happy, too. But happy or not, it’s time you became self-sufficient.”

“So my father’s dying wish meant nothing?” It was more accusation than question.

“I’ve done right by you. Now it’s time for you to stand on your own two feet. And might I suggested that that’s easier to do when you have some clothes on.”

“Fine. Be smug. You don’t want me, that’s fine, there are plenty of men who do. But don’t pretend you’re the hero in all this, Blake Hollister. You made a promise to a dying man. That you would take care of his little girl…” her voice broke off. “He was all I had, and now he’s gone.”

Christ. Were her eyes watering? Real or fake, it was getting to me.

“You promised him not to let me down. And you have. Just like every other man in my life. My father left me, and now you.”

“Michelle…”

“I’m used to it,” she said, hiding her face with one hand. Her voice choked up. “That’s what men do. Men like you. I should have known better than to trust you. Men like you can never be trusted. You always let the people who need you down.”

Shit.

I stood up. Moved toward her.

Hell, I didn’t know what the right thing to do was anymore.

But it was clear she needed comforting, and I wasn’t the right person for that job. I was the one who’d made her cry. Who’d let her down. Just like I let every woman in my life down.

“I’m sorry,” I said, but she didn’t look up. “I’ll leave you alone now. Take as much time as you need to pull yourself together.”

I shut the door to my office and strode down the hallway, no destination in mind. I’d made her cry. Who’d disappointed her. Just like I had everyone else in my life.

Except one person. Looking around, I realized I was heading toward the nursery without conscious thought. But then I remembered that Zoe wasn’t there. She was at home after the doctor’s appointment.

Turning around, I headed in a different direction.