When Layla walked out of the bathroom wearing that slinky, silver dress, I knew I was in trouble. It flowed over her curves like liquid mercury and draped a little at the top, revealing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Spaghetti straps as thin as gossamer threatened to give way at any moment. How was I going to stay professional all night with her sitting next to me, wearing that?

I allowed myself one long, lingering look, letting my gaze flow over her curves, then I forced my eyes back up to hers. It wouldn’t be too hard to keep my focus there, because her face was just as beautiful as her figure. She’d twisted her thick, mahogany hair into an updo that showed off her graceful neck and made her face the feature attraction. Dramatic eyeshadow widened her doe eyes, soft blush warmed her cheeks, and bright red lipstick taunted me, making me wish I could kiss her.

“Layla.” I breathed out her name on the last bit of air left in my body.

She smiled and spun for me, holding out her arms. “What do you think?”

“I think you look…” I rejected all the words that came to mind — beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, incredible. They were probably inappropriate for a boss to say, even though they were all true. I settled for “Perfect.”

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” She grinned and stroked her hands down the lapels of my tuxedo.

Most people assumed that one tuxedo was the same as another, but there was a difference. Mine had been custom made to fit me perfectly and make me look as good as possible. It was expensive, but anything that improved my image was worth it to me. I’d spent too many years being ridiculed.

Layla was so close to me, staring up at me with a look on her face I thought might be desire, it took every ounce of willpower I had to resist the urge to wrap my hands around her waist and lean down to kiss her. Instead, I took a deep breath, savoring the exotic, spicy scent of her perfume, mixed with her own, natural fragrance. It was more delectable than anything I’d ever smelled before, and I’d paid thousands of dollars for cologne before.

“Are you ready to go?” Against every desire, I turned away from her and headed for the door. I had to get some distance between us before I did something foolish.

We climbed into the town car and made the drive to the theater in relative quiet. Layla seemed deep in thought. I didn’t know what she was thinking about, but I was mentally debating all the reasons I should or shouldn’t tell her how I felt.

It always came back to one thing, though. Fear. I could invest millions of dollars in a brand new company, make decisions in a moment that could totally ruin me, but I was terrified to put my heart out there and risk her rejection. And she’d just reminded me she wasn’t planning to stay in Sweet Bay, even though I’d told her I wished she would, so she obviously didn’t have the same feelings for me.

“Almost there. Are you ready? There will probably be a lot of paparazzi,” I said when the driver pulled up to the security checkpoint.

“I know; isn’t it exciting?” Layla gave a wide, eager smile that made her look more beautiful than ever. Of course, she was excited. She was born for fame and had basked in the attention of her admirers her whole life.

I, on the other hand, hated this kind of attention. Now that I’d become successful, most of my publicity was positive, outside Sweet Bay, anyway, but there were still people who had critical things to say. My ego always anticipated an attack. But confidence was important to a positive public image, so I tried to force some enthusiasm. At least I had a beautiful woman on my arm.

We pulled up to the theater entrance, and an attendant opened the door and held out a hand to Layla. She stepped gracefully out of the town car, despite a flurry of flashing camera lights. The flashes doubled when I got out of the car, blinding me, making me stumble. Immediately, reporters circled around us like vultures, pecking at us with microphones instead of beaks.

A middle-aged woman trying to look younger in a short, sparkly black dress and too much eye makeup pushed her microphone up to my lips. “Calvin Montgomery, we don’t normally see you at movie premieres. What brought you here tonight?”

I stared at her, dazed and overwhelmed for a moment by her and the crowd of people around us, till Layla nudged me with her elbow and jolted me out of my stupor. “Uh, I’m one of the financial backers of this movie, so I have a vested interest in its success.”

That was the only reason I cared at all about the movie, and that obviously wasn’t a very interesting reason, because the reporter seemed unimpressed by my answer. A few of the others walked away, more interested in the next celebrity coming down the red carpet. That was why I hated making public appearances. I never knew what to say and always came off looking like a bore or an idiot.

Layla slid her arm through mine and whispered, “Tell her you’re friends with Beau.”

“And I’m friends with Beau, so I wanted to support him,” I blurted out.

The reporter winked and nodded. “Ah, of course. I guess you billionaires must like to hang out. You probably have a little club, or something.”

I shook my head and started to deny it. Beau and I weren’t really close. But Layla leaned in and whispered, “Your house.”

It was enough to remind me of our previous conversation. Layla had encouraged me to emphasize the relationship between Beau and me to make myself look more appealing.

“We do socialize sometimes. In fact, Beau suggested they film one of the scenes in the movie at my home in San Francisco after he saw my pool.” The reporter seemed much more interested in that tidbit. I smiled, feeling more confident with each thing I said, thanks to Layla, of course.

“Oh really? We’ll have to keep an eye out for your pool’s cameo. I’m sure everyone would love a peek inside your world. We all want to know more about handsome, billionaire bachelors. You are still a bachelor, aren’t you? We haven’t seen much of you lately. Who’s your friend?”

I turned to Layla, who stood confidently by my side, looking beautiful and composed. Her presence alone bolstered my self-esteem. I gave her a smile I hope conveyed all my appreciation. “This is my friend, Layla Emerson. She’s been helping me with my latest project.”

I tore my eyes away from Layla and turned back to the reporter. As much as I wanted to extol Layla’s virtues, I didn’t want to encourage any more questions about her that I couldn’t answer. And promoting the resort was the reason I was there. I needed to steer the conversation that direction.

“I’m opening a luxury hotel, called the Sweet Bay Resort and Spa, in the beautiful, seaside town where I grew up. It’s an undiscovered treasure. The resort boasts every amenity, plus it’s right on the water. Every room will have a gorgeous, ocean view and access to the pristine, jewel-like Sweet Bay harbor. I plan to open next month.” The words flowed out just like I’d rehearsed them with Layla.

“That sounds fabulous, Calvin. We can’t wait to see it,” the reporter cooed. I grinned, feeling like I’d successfully accomplished my goal for the evening, and started to walk away, eager to get out of the spotlight, but Layla pinched my arm and whispered, “Website!”

Of course! How could I forget the call to action? I stopped in my tracks and leaned into the reporter’s microphone again, taking her by surprise. “You can see gorgeous photos of the resort on our website and schedule your stay. There are still a few openings, but we’re filling up fast, so book now.”

I mentioned the website address then glanced at Layla to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything else. She smiled widely and gave me a look that told me I should do the same. I looked straight into the camera and gave my most enticing smile then said, “I can’t wait to see you there.”

“There you have it, folks. A personal invitation from Calvin Montgomery to visit his new resort. I know that’s where I want to go for my next vacation. Maybe I’ll see Calvin lounging around the pool.” The reporter gave the camera a wink then headed off to the next celebrity.

I breathed out a long sigh and felt the tension roll off of me. Layla squeezed my arm with her hand and smiled up at me. “You did great, Calvin.”

“Thanks to you. If you hadn’t been there, I would’ve come off as a blundering idiot.”

She shook her head. “You just needed a little push in the right direction, but that was all you.”

I’d only repeated all the things she’d encouraged me to say when we talked about it earlier. Layla was the real brains behind the strategy. When I decided to open a resort, I didn’t give much thought to how I’d market it. I just assumed I could make a success of it since my online business had done so well. But this was a whole other world, and I would’ve been floundering without Layla.

I couldn’t resist hugging her. She gasped and stiffened but then softened against me. “No, Layla, that was all you. Thank you. I’m so glad I have you.”

She felt so good in my arms, with soft, silky skin over trim muscles and curves that fit my own body perfectly. I held onto her a moment longer than I probably should have, enjoying the sensation too much to let go. Cameras flashed around us like fireworks, celebrating the moment.

“They’re going to think we’re a couple. Our picture will be all over the tabloids,” Layla murmured into my chest.

“I don’t care what they think. Do you?” I pulled away just enough to look into her face, hoping to see a reflection of my own feelings.

She shook her head but gave me a look laced with confusion. “Any publicity is good publicity, right?”

She definitely didn’t feel any of the same things I felt. It was just business to her. I reluctantly dropped my arms.

I didn’t want to let go of her completely, though, so I kept a hand on the small of her back as we headed into the theater, stopping to say hello to a few people I knew. We were almost to our seats when Layla pointed across the room. “There’s Beau. You should go up and talk to him. Encourage him to visit the resort. It will be great publicity if he ever does.”

“Good idea.” I was hesitant to take Layla with me. Even though Beau and I were acquaintances, I still felt somewhat intimidated by the confident celebrity. Layla was a beautiful woman, and Beau was rumored to be a playboy. But I was proud to have her by my side, and I wanted her support and encouragement.

I took Layla’s hand and led her through the crowd over to where Beau was wooing his admirers with his movie star looks and devilish smile. He wore his tuxedo half undone — his shirt unbuttoned and his tie untied — and somehow he looked all the better for it. A scruff of facial hair couldn’t hide his chiseled jaw.

“Calvin! How’s it going? Where’ve you been hiding?” Beau reached out and took my hand in a firm handshake.

Layla nudged me just in case I’d forgotten the goal of the conversation. “I’m doing well. I’ve been in my hometown, building a luxury resort. It’s going to be finished soon. You should come visit. It’s a beautiful, quiet, little beach town where you can relax and get away from all the stress of Hollywood.”

“That sounds good, man. I could use some relaxation. Who knew this movie star stuff was such hard work? I’m definitely gonna need a break after this.” He pushed back his thick, dark hair haphazardly. It looked like he’d styled it by running his hands through it a few dozen times.

“Just give me a call, and I’ll save you the best suite.”

Mission accomplished, I was about to walk away when Layla spoke up, putting her hand on Beau’s arm and flashing that gorgeous smile at him. “You know, we’re having a grand opening party. I’d love it if you could come. We’d comp your entire stay, of course.”

Beau turned his attention to her, his bright teeth shining at her like a sunbeam. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that from a beautiful lady? What’s your name?”

“Layla Emerson. I’ll send you an invitation.” Layla held out her hand with her palm down, like she was inviting him to kiss it.

He took the hint, grasping her fingers gently and lifting her hand to his lips. “I’ll be looking for it.”

Jealousy instantly reared up inside me. I knew Layla was only playacting, trying to woo Beau into coming to the resort, but it still bothered me. She was a good actress, even if Hollywood didn’t think so. I had to remember that.

The lights started to dim, so I said goodbye to Beau then took Layla’s elbow and led her away from him. We found our seats and settled in as the MC approached the stage.

Layla laughed and smiled through the whole movie, obviously enjoying it. Why wouldn’t she? That was her world. That was the life she wanted. How could I ever compete with it? I had plenty of money and fame, but I hated the spotlight and had no desire to hobnob with celebrities.

I barely paid attention to the movie; I was too focused on the sensation of sitting arm to arm with Layla and absorbed with my thoughts. Could Layla ever be interested in me, or was I just a means to an end for her? She was obviously in poor shape financially. I’d seen the eviction notice on her door, and she’d been desperate enough to take a job working for me, despite her past antagonism towards me.

The only way to know for sure was to reveal my feelings for her and see how she responded, but was I brave enough to do it?