Beneath the Boss: Omnibus (The Complete Collection) by Lydia Rowan Page A

thing, which hit just above her knee and was far shorter than almost anything he’d ever seen her in. Her long legs were bare and looked silky smooth, the deep yellow of her dress only heightening the effect and giving her skin an almost ethereal glow. The fabric of the dress was fluid and ran over her curves, molding the here and there and more a display of what lay underneath than a cover. He felt that familiar stir in his pants, imagined himself spreading her over the couch and taking her from behind while he traced her curves through the soft-looking fabric. He hardened at the thought and fought to regain control over his body. He’d accepted his powerful attraction to Layla, had doubts about whether it would ever cool, but for now, he needed to stay focused on his goal, or he risked losing her forever.
    That thought left an icy, sick feeling in his gut and was more than sufficient to cool his arbor. He exhaled and looked into Layla’s eyes. She sat quietly, her face impassive, a clear message that the ball was in his court.
    “Dropping by unannounced like this is not ideal, but I wasn’t sure if you’d see me, and I wasn’t willing to take the risk, especially after I talked to your friend Marla.”
    “Wait, you talked to Marla? When? What did you say to her? She didn’t mention this conversation to me.”
    Layla’s voice rose after each question, and he could see she her hackles beginning to rise.
    “Don’t be mad at her. I asked her not to.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I was desperate, Layla, and I had to do some something, and she was my best option.”
    “What did she say?”
    “Oh, she very gently ripped me a new asshole, basically told me I was a rotten, entitled brat, and threatened to turn me into ‘billionaire blintzes’ if I didn’t make this right and stop hurting you.”
    The merry sound of Layla’s laughter rang in his ears.
    “She wouldn’t tell me how you were doing or feeling, though. Said it wasn’t her place but that if I cared so much, I’d figure it out myself. So here I am.”
    He leaned back and waited.
    “That sounds like Marla. She’s kinda been mama bear for me since... She can go overboard sometime, but her heart’s always in the right place.”
    “I can tell. And, truthfully, I’m jealous.”
    Layla raised her head, the unspoken question clear in her eyes.
    “I’ve never had anyone, well, except you maybe, care that much about me.”
    “That’s not true, Leighton. You had your parents, more friends than I can name.”
    “Those aren’t friends. They’re party guests who like to be around me because of what I can do for them. Nothing more. And as for parents”—he shook his head—“it is, sadly, the same story. You’ve met my mother. She, she does the best she can, but...” He trailed off. “My father—”
    “Leighton, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about this,” she said.
    “I do. Marla did say one other thing. She told me that if I loved you,” he caught her gaze and held it, trying to convey the seriousness of his next words, “and I do love you, Layla, very much, that I wouldn’t be afraid to show you all of me, that I’d stop hiding. And she was right.”
    Leighton stood and began pacing the cozy space.
    “You knew my father.”
    “Yes, Leighton Senior hired me, but you knew that. Seemed a nice enough guy, always jovial and kind. Wait, did he...?”
    “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Leighton said quickly after he caught her train of thought. “He was a nice enough guy, jovial, fun, but he was also weak, vain, inattentive, obsessed with the family name, and a truly awful businessman. He used to parade me in front of his friends, talk about the ‘the next generation,’ but I’d go weeks without seeming him, and when I turned twelve, it was off to boarding school. It’s stupid really. Even then I could see him for what he was, but I still loved him, craved his attention.”
    “Leighton, there’s nothing stupid about a