Leah Ashton: Beware of the Boss

‘Has it ever occurred to you, Lanie Smith, that you have the same effect on me?’

All she could do was stare at him.

He took another step, close enough now to touch.

‘I—’ she began. But she really had no idea what to say. Her instinct was to deny—to shake her head and tell him that he was wrong, that this was unfair, that he didn’t really mean that.

But would she actually believe what she was saying?

Did she really believe that incredible kiss at the Night Market had been so one-sided? Or that their daily meetings at the beach were solely between work colleagues—or, at a stretch, friends?

Or was it more that she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge what was going on? That she didn’t want to allow herself to consider—or hope—it was something more?

‘What are we doing?’ she managed eventually.

‘What is this?’

Gray’s lips quirked upwards. ‘I have absolutely no idea. But right now I’d really like to kiss you.’

Dear Reader

I always find people who are really brilliant at something endlessly interesting. It doesn’t matter what that something is—anything from art to sport—but I love to hear their story. Of course I’m certainly not alone in this fascination—read any newspaper or magazine and it’s full of just those types of stories.

But what about all those people who are almost brilliant? We hear about the most famous, the real superstars of the world—but how about the guy who gets knocked out in the first round of every Grand Slam? Or the actress who finally makes it in Hollywood but never lands a leading role? These people are the very best at what they do—better than the vast majority of the population—but still not quite good enough.

This is where Lanie Smith comes from. She has an amazing drive and determination that has taken her all the way to international swimming championships, but in her mind she is a failure. She is almost brilliant. I just had to get to know her better. And I definitely needed to give her a happy-ever-after—even if she doesn’t see it coming when she first meets my rather grumpy hero Grayson Manning!

I hope you enjoy Lanie and Gray’s story! I love hearing from readers (really!), so please feel free to contact me via my website: www.leah-ashton.com, or e-mail me at leah@leah-ashton.com

Leah Ashton

Beware of the Boss

Leah Ashton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

An unashamed fan of all things happily-ever-after, LEAH ASHTONhas been a lifelong reader of romance. Writing came a little bit later—although in hindsight she’s been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember. Sadly, the most popular boy in school never did suddenly fall head over heels in love with her …

Now she lives in Perth, Western Australia, with her own real-life hero, two gorgeous dogs and the world’s smartest cat. By day she works in IT-land; by night she considers herself incredibly lucky to be writing the type of books she loves to read and to have the opportunity to share her own characters’ happily-ever-afters with readers.

You can visit Leah at www.leah-ashton.com

This and other titles by Leah Ashton are available in eBook format—check out www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Isla. Welcome to the world, honeybun!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

ONE

With a gasp, Lanie Smith sat up abruptly, her floppy straw hat dislodging onto her lap and her towel a tangle amongst her hastily rearranged legs.

What on earth?

A shockingly cold nose pressing insistently against her knee answered that question. The large dog, its long red coat soaked in salt water and decorated generously with beach sand, nudged her leg, then flicked its liquid chocolate gaze hopefully in her direction.

‘You lose something, buddy?’

Lanie leant forward, searching amongst the folds of her towel. The dog found its soggy-looking target first and snatched the ball up, backing a quick handful of steps away before going still and staring at her again.

‘You want me to throw it?’

Knowing there was really only one answer to that question, Lanie pressed her hands into the sand and climbed to her feet. She shook her head a little, still fuzzy from her impromptu nap.

One minute she’d been reading her paperback...the next... She glanced up at the sky, looking for the sun, and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she realised it was still low and behind her. At least she hadn’t slept for long.

Not that sleeping the day away would have been such a disaster. It wasn’t as if she had a million other things to do.

The dog came closer and dropped the ball with a dull plop at her feet.

Hurry up.

Lanie couldn’t help but smile.

‘Okay, okay, buddy—here we go.’

With barely a grimace as her fingers wrapped around the slobbery ball—there was enough water here at North Cottesloe beach to wash her hands, after all—Lanie weighed up her throwing options. Back towards the water, from where the dog had obviously come? Or along the shore...?

‘Luther!’

The deep voice stilled Lanie’s movements. The dog momentarily glanced in the direction of the obviously familiar voice before refocussing his rapt attention on the ball.

A man loped across the blinding white sand towards her. He was shirtless, wearing only baggy, low-slung board shorts and a pair of jet-black sunglasses. The morning sun reflected off toned olive skin that glowed with exertion, and he ran a hand through slightly too long dark brown hair as he approached, leaving it standing in a haphazard arrangement.

Lanie found herself patting uselessly at her own brownish hair—which, in contrast, she was sure had not been rakishly enhanced by the combined effects of sand, wind and the fact that she’d done no more than loop it into half a ponytail before walking out of the house this morning.

‘Luther!’ the man said again.

The dog moved not a muscle, every line of his body focussed on Lanie’s hand.

For the first time the man glanced in her direction.

And it was only a glance—as brief and uninterested as Luther’s when he’d heard his owner call his name.

‘Are you planning on keeping his ball?’ the man asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for her response.

Lanie blinked behind her own sunglasses. ‘Pardon me?’

He sighed, twisting his wrist to look at his watch. ‘Can you please give Luther his ball? Soonish would be great.’

The ball dropped from Lanie’s fingers, but the big red dog pounced as excitedly as if she’d thrown it miles away. Now he crossed the short distance to his owner, and moments later the ball was whizzing through the air and into the shallow waves. The dog followed with huge, galumphing, splashing strides.

The man left too, without a backward glance, jogging the exact parallel distance from the lapping waves as he did every single morning.