Leah Ashton - Beware of the Boss

Given her lack of relevant experience, Lanie had imagined she’d be working somewhere small. Somewhere that couldn’t afford a true executive assistant. Somewhere she could kind of figure it all out as she went along.

Manning Developments was not that place.

Teagan’s text message therefore did not surprise her at all.

I spruced up your CV. Just a little.

Right.

Lanie rolled her head backwards until it rested on the high back of her chair and stared up at the ceiling.

The sensible thing to do would be to leave. She didn’t have the experience for a role like this, and if she stuffed it up then the agency, Teagan and herself would all look pretty bad.

It was sweet of Teagan—annoying, inappropriate, and dishonest—but sweet.

It should end here.

But she remained at her vast new desk. For the same reason she’d stayed in Grayson’s office after she’d recognised him as the man from the beach.

For long seconds she’d searched for the cutting comments he deserved after his performance at the beach—but then, before she’d gathered her thoughts, she’d realised he’d just dismissed her.

Again. Just as he had at the beach, he’d carried on as if she was irrelevant to his world. Why on earth would she want to work for someone who would treat her like that?

But she couldn’t let that man—Grayson—ignore her again.

So here she was. With a job she didn’t really want, working for a man she didn’t like.

Lanie wiggled the wireless mouse on the desk and the large flatscreen monitor blinked instantly to life, revealing a login screen.

Her gaze flicked to the still open door to Grayson’s office, but then immediately away. That he would be of no help at all was obvious.

She stood and headed for the hallway—Caroline, the little plaque on the reception desk had proclaimed. She should be able to point her in the direction of IT Support or something.

She could do this. It couldn’t be too difficult.

She’d figure out why she was doing it later.

THREE

The little green man started blinking, so with a coffee cup gripped firmly in each hand Lanie made her way across a very busy St Georges Terrace.

‘Lanie!’

A fierce breeze whipped between the high-rise buildings, blowing her loose hair every which way and partially covering her eyes. Not that she needed a visual aid to identify that particular deep and demanding voice.

Calmly she stepped onto the footpath and Grayson met her halfway, jogging down his building’s steps and deftly negotiating the sea of lunchtime pedestrian traffic.

‘We’re going to be late,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

Lanie tossed her hair out of her face and met his gaze as she handed him his triple-shot latte.

‘I did mention that there may not be time for a coffee.’

Grayson blinked. As always, he seemed genuinely surprised. ‘Oh...’ he said.

In the week she’d worked for him this routine had already become familiar. He was rather like a mad scientist—so utterly focussed on his work that the practicalities of life seemed beyond him.

It would have been endearing—except...

‘Well, make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

Lanie bit her lip.

Remember the money. Remember the money...

It was the money, Lanie had decided. The reason she hadn’t already quit.

Thanks to Teagan’s creativity with her CV, and her ability so far to fudge her way through the job, she was earning almost twice what she had at the swim school. And she needed the money so she could move out of her mother’s place as soon as possible—before she and Sienna returned from Europe, preferably.

That was the only reason she was here. Nothing to do with that morning on the beach.

Lanie nodded tightly. ‘I’ve got a car waiting for us.’ She gestured with her spare hand in its direction, and to the driver idling illegally in the clearway. Grayson opened his mouth, but Lanie jumped in before he could get a word out. ‘The laptop, projector and business specs are on the back seat.’

In response his eyebrows rose, just slightly. ‘Good,’ he said.

Again Lanie bit her lip. How about a thank-you, huh?

She pivoted on her heel and strode towards the car.

Remember the money. Remember the money. Remember the—

The toe of her shoe caught on something and Lanie stumbled. But before she had much time to register that the grey pavers of the footpath were rapidly becoming closer her descent was suddenly halted.

Grayson’s arm was strong and solid and warm around her waist. In an effortless movement he pulled her upwards and towards him, so she was pressed against his impeccably suited body.

She tilted her chin to look up at him.

He caught her gaze—really caught it—and for a moment Lanie was completely speechless.

His eyes weren’t just grey—they were flecked with blue. And with his face now arranged in concern, not hard with tension, he was somehow—impossibly—even more handsome.

Of course she already knew he was gorgeous. To pretend otherwise would be ridiculous. And, frustratingly, beautiful people didn’t become less beautiful simply by their unlikeable behaviour.

Less attractive, though. They did become less attractive. He’d proved that, that day on the beach. And each day since then.

But right now Grayson did not seem unattractive. Right now, with the subtle scent of his aftershave and the warmth of his arm and body confusing her, he was anything but.

The side of her body he touched...no everywhere he touched, reacted to him. Electricity flooded through her.

‘You okay?’

Because it was all she could manage, she simply nodded mutely.

He took a step away from her and amazingly she had the presence of mind not to follow him. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders back, and rebalanced on her own two feet.

She realised she was gripping her coffee cup hard enough to slightly crumple the cardboard, and made herself loosen her grip.

Then he smiled. It was a subtle expression—far from broad—but it was the first Grayson Manning smile she’d witnessed.

Once again her ability to form words evaporated.

He covered the short distance to the car and opened the door for her.

She slipped past him, not catching his gaze. With every moment she was increasingly aware that she really needed to pull herself together.

If she was going to keep working for Grayson she needed to erase completely from her subconscious even the smallest skerrick of romantic daydreams involving her boss.

Obviously the agency would not approve.

Secondly she—Lanie—did not approve. She might not have extensive experience in the corporate world, but even she knew getting involved with your boss was...well, pretty dumb.

And thirdly, Grayson was not about to be overcome by lust when it came to Lanie Smith.

Lanie’s lips quirked up at the idea of Grayson arriving at her front door to take her out to dinner. It was laughable.

She settled into the soft leather of the back seat as Grayson closed her door, and moments later he was sliding into the car from the opposite side.

Lanie took a good long gulp of her coffee, hoping that the addition of caffeine would help get her brain back to speed.

She fully expected Grayson to flip open his laptop as the car pulled way, or to make another one of his seemingly endless phone calls. But instead he turned towards her.

He cleared his throat, the sound unexpected and awkward in the quiet vehicle.

‘Thank you for the coffee,’ he said gruffly.

Lanie shot a look in his direction, not immediately sure she’d heard him correctly.

But his expression was genuine. Not quite contrite—that wouldn’t be Grayson Manning—but still...