“Give me a minute, Simon,” Knox Winston said, rising behind his massive desk, which didn’t look massive at all in the enormous two-story study. A gallery lined with books looked down from the second floor, which could be reached by a wrought-iron spiral staircase.
“Harper.” Simon nodded a greeting as he walked out of the room, but didn’t bother to stop for introductions.
Winston rounded his desk toward his daughter. “Harper. I thought you’d decided not to come.”
“You know I wouldn’t miss your birthday.”
Knox came to a shuddering halt when he recognized Chase. He was a tall man and powerfully built, with thick shoulders and a barrel chest. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Chase managed to smile. “Your daughter was kind enough to bring me as her date.” He handed Winston the beautiful foil-wrapped gift. “Happy birthday.”
Winston snatched it out of his hand and raised it up as if he meant to smash it on the red tile floor.
“Don’t, Dad! Chase picked it out especially for you. It’s twenty-five-year-old Dalmore scotch. He knows you appreciate a good bottle of whiskey. He thought you would like it.”
Winston ripped the silver foil off the box, opened the lid and pulled out the bottle. Clearly he knew the value.
“Chase and I are seeing each other, Dad. We wanted to be up front with you about it. We didn’t want to sneak around behind your back.”
Winston drilled Chase with a glare. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to come here—”
“I know we’ve had our disagreements,” Chase said smoothly. “I know you and my father didn’t get along, but for Harper’s sake, I’m hoping you’ll be willing to set the past aside and accept things as they are.”
“Get out!”
Harper moved between them, a hand on her father’s thick chest. He was vibrating with anger. “Chase and I are involved, Dad. I don’t need your approval, but I’d like to at least have your acceptance. I’m asking you to give him a chance.”
Winston’s jaw looked ready to crack. He took a deep breath, looked at the ridiculously expensive bottle of scotch in his hand, looked at Chase. “I don’t like you or your brothers any more than I liked your father. That isn’t going to change.”
“Dad, please.”
Winston set the bottle on his desk. “For Harper’s sake, I’m not going to have you thrown out. You’re welcome here for the rest of the evening, but don’t come back again.”
“I hope you won’t hold this against your daughter,” Chase said, meaning it. “She was just trying to do what she felt was right.”
Knox seemed to pull himself under control. “Like I said, enjoy the evening, but you won’t be welcome here again.”
Chase nodded curtly. “Happy Birthday. Enjoy the scotch.” Chase led Harper out the door into the hall. “I’m sorry that didn’t go better, but at least we tried.”
Her eyes glistened. “I think we should go.”
At the sight of her tears, Chase’s chest clamped down. “Maybe he’ll come around.”
“Maybe.” But both of them knew it wasn’t going to happen.
Harper led Chase out a side door so they wouldn’t run into the press or anyone they might know. He texted Reggie and had the limo waiting as they rounded the house and made their way across the lawn.
His job was done. The bottle of scotch would likely find its way to the built-in bar in Winston’s study. From here on out, it was up to the DEA to get the information they needed.
It was a quiet ride back to Harper’s town house. They each drank another glass of champagne, which helped ease the tension inside the car. When the limo drove up in front, Harper reached for his hand.
“It’s early. Please come in. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want, but...I...I’d rather not spend the evening alone.”
He shouldn’t. It wasn’t fair to Harper. But instead of refusing, he found himself nodding. Harper was still holding his hand as she led him up the walkway. He told himself he’d just have the nightcap she had offered him the night before, then he would leave.
He signaled for Reggie to go on home, telling himself he could catch a cab when he was ready to head back to his condo, but the moment he stepped into the entry and closed the door, Harper was in his arms.
“I need you, Chase,” she said, pressing soft butterfly kisses to the corners of his mouth. “Please stay.”
