Layla entered Ethan’s office carrying a large leather bag over her shoulder, his dinner, and a black suit she had picked up from the dry cleaner.
The office was literally the size of an apartment with plenty of windows and a private dining room and bathroom behind closed doors. The visible area was occupied by typical high-end executive office furniture, a conference room behind glass, and a sitting area for guests. The shades over the windows were currently drawn, blocking out the night and making the room seem extra quiet.
She placed the sack containing Ethan’s dinner on the desk and turned to face him as he stormed through the door with a frown on his face.
“Thank goodness, you’re here,” he said, the lines in his forehead disappearing.
Layla handed over his change of clothes. “Halston is waiting for you downstairs,” she said, as she unzipped the leather bag. “I’ve already made a phone call to the hotel and reminded them about your shellfish allergy. Daria and I touched base, and she reconfirmed your attorney will meet you at the airport for the flight out, and the ones in London will be there when you land and brief you on the ride to court.”
In addition to his stateside attorney, an architect and another business associate would be joining Ethan on the transcontinental flight in his private jet so he could strategize before they landed. She hoped he took the opportunity to sleep on the plane, but knowing him, he’d be too wired. The man worked way too hard.
“Perfect. Could you stick around for a bit? I have a few more tasks to go over with you before I leave.”
“Of course.”
From the bag, Layla removed a box with his shoes and socks and a small case with the black Patek Philippe watch he always paired with his black suits. She followed him into the bathroom, placed the items on the counter, and then quickly exited.
While he showered, she unpacked his meal, drink, and utensils. Then she took a seat in front of his desk, in a plush burgundy chair that was one of only a few items with color in the room. Everything else was black or white. There were black and white photos on the wall of properties he owned, his desk was black and L-shaped, and the sitting area contained two black leather couches and the only other colorful furnishing in the room—a burgundy leather armchair.
Layla pulled her iPad from the bag at her feet and clicked on the appropriate notes app to get ready for their meeting. Ethan was going on a last-minute trip to London, one he wasn’t pleased about because of its unexpectedness. Renovations had been stalled on one of his buildings for months. He’d let his people over there handle the problems, and today he’d learned there was a pending court case that he hadn’t been informed about. Without a doubt, someone was getting fired.
That’s why she was sitting in his office after nine at night but was accustomed to dealing with unexpected crises in working for him. While she waited for him to finish up, she replayed the other night with Rashad. The kiss, the way he held her, and her own reaction. Tingles shimmied from her breasts down to her inner thighs. She loved kissing him and would happily do it all the time if he’d let her.
Ethan exited the bathroom looking refreshed, fastening his cufflinks as he moved with powerfully graceful strides across the floor.
She came to her feet and straightened his tie. “Better,” she said.
“Thank you.”
As she watched him walk around the desk, she understood why Rashad had been concerned about their relationship. Ethan was a good-looking, virile, powerful man. Yes, she noticed all of that from day one when she interviewed with him, but not once during their five-year work relationship had he made an inappropriate comment or made a pass at her. In fact, he had a very low tolerance for that type of behavior from men in his position.
She essentially saw herself as his companion, except she got paid for the work. Her job was to make his life easier, and she did that by being efficient and anticipating his needs. For instance, tonight she brought him dinner, though he hadn’t mentioned he hadn’t eaten yet. She knew he sometimes skipped meals or ate unhealthy snacks when he was busy. Being that he was probably going to be preoccupied with meetings and phone calls on the plane, and when they landed he’d be thrown into more meetings, he needed some sustenance to continue performing at his peak.
He sat at the desk and while he ate went over a list of tasks he needed her to complete while he was out of town. Nothing too taxing, and all could be handled within a day, which meant she’d get a break while he was gone. When he finished the meal, he jumped up and grabbed his briefcase, looking around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said.
“Have a safe trip,” Layla called after him.
She removed a cotton sack from the leather bag at her feet and went into the bathroom. She tossed in Ethan’s dirty clothes and then dropped the empty food containers in the trash. Turning out the light as she left the office, she headed to the elevator.
Once in the SUV, her phone rang, and Rashad’s name flashed across the screen on the dashboard. Excitement thrummed in her veins. She’d intended to call him when she got home but was pleased to see he’d reached out to her.
“Hello?”
“What are you doing?”
Layla smiled through the biting of her lip. Good grief, she could barely contain her excitement.
“I just left Ethan’s office. He’s on his way overseas on a business trip.”
“Does that mean you’re free tonight?”
“Actually, it does.”
“And Aunt Flo is gone?”
She smiled. “Yes, she is.”
“It’s before midnight. I want to see you. You want me to come to you, or will you come to me?”
Layla thought for a minute and then decided going to his home gave her leverage because she could leave whenever she wanted—as opposed to having to get him out of her apartment if he came to her.
“I’ll come to your place, but I need to stop at Ethan’s first to drop off a few things. Then I’ll come over.”
“The slave driver continues to slave drive even when he’s not here, huh?”
“He’s not bad, and I should have a few quiet days while he’s gone.”
Rashad grunted but didn’t comment further. “How long before you get here?”
“Anxious, are you?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. How long?”
“Less than an hour. I’ll call when I’m close.”
“Do that. I’m waiting.”
Layla pushed the speedometer higher on the way to Ethan’s mansion. At first, she wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but now she saw that it was completely possible for them to reignite their sexual relationship, and everything would be nice and uncomplicated.
They both knew what they were getting themselves into. Unlike last time, there would be no surprise conversations about slowing things down, and she was pleased that she hadn’t completely capitulated to him. She’d created her own version of a relationship, one where she didn’t have concerns about falling for Rashad again. Because she wouldn’t. She saw through him now and knew he wasn’t the man for her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself in the search for Mr. Right.
Her stop at Ethan’s lasted twenty minutes because she took a quick shower in one of the guest suites when she dropped off his personal belongings. Before leaving, she picked up two other suits that needed adjusting, which she’d take to his tailor first thing in the morning.
Back on the road, she called Rashad and let him know she was on her way. He gave her the password for the doorman, that way he’d send her right up when she arrived. She parked her car and then entered the lobby of the apartment building, and minutes later she was in the elevator, climbing to the eleventh floor.
Rashad opened the door before she knocked, which meant the doorman had alerted him of her arrival. He had the appearance of casual relaxation in jeans and a grey Henley that hugged his biceps and showed off the contours of his muscular torso, but his eyes were a dead giveaway. They focused on her with intensity, blaring the truth of his desire like a beacon in the night.
“Hi,” she said softly, already panting.
He pulled her into the apartment with one arm around her waist and didn’t lose any time kissing her hungrily and thoroughly. Layla flung her arms around his neck and willingly opened her mouth beneath his, sucking on his tongue and thrusting hers into his.
“I feel like I’ve waited forever for this,” he said huskily, his voice sounding ravenous and thick. He sucked on her ear lobe and kissed her neck.
“Me too,” Layla gasped, straining on her toes to better position the hard ridge pressing against her lower stomach. She’d anticipated this night with such longing that at times she felt as if the ache would never go away—as if her entire body had become a single throbbing nerve.
Rashad’s hands lowered to her denim-clad bottom, and no more talking was necessary.
They both knew why she was there.