Read Online Her Old-Fashioned Boss by Laylah Roberts - Free Book Online

Instead he headed up the stairs to the third floor, a place she’d never been.
    “This is a punishable offense, by the way. I expect you to tell Sam or I immediately if you hurt yourself.”
    She snorted. “Like you’ll do anything about it.” He’d threatened to punish her a few times and never followed through. She should be relieved.
    Instead, she felt kind of curious.
    “Don’t be so sure, sweetheart,” he told her in a deep voice. Her breath caught in her throat at the words and she swallowed heavily at the promise in his voice. That couldn’t be right, though, could it? She was his employee for God’s sake. If he did anything she could have him done for sexual harassment.
    Not that she would, because it definitely would not be harassment.
    No, she’d welcome any advance from him with open arms.
    Sam, too.
    She didn’t want to come between them. Hell, no, what they had was beautiful and strong. She’d observed their relationship, seen the way Roarke looked at Sam like the sun rose and shone on him. Seen how Sam worshipped the ground Roarke walked on.
    No, she didn’t want to choose. She wanted them both. Together. At the same time.
    She shivered at the images that thought produced.
    “You okay?” Roarke glanced down at her with concern as he sat her on the edge of the giant bath tub. Ava glanced around, realizing that they must be in his and Sam’s private bathroom. “Are you cold? I’ll get you something warm to put on in a second.”
    Grabbing the detachable head on the bath, he turned the tap on cold and started running it over her burning thighs.
    Instant relief.
    “Hold this, sweetheart. I’ll go find you a sweater.”
    “No, wait, I’m...fine,” she trailed off, realizing he wasn’t listening to a word.
    Ava took the chance to take a deep breath and try to steady her nerves.
    Damn, I’m losing it. I have to do better than this.
    She knew they didn’t mean anything by their flirting, with the way they took care of her. That was just the kind of men they were. Men who protected those who were weaker than themselves. They opened doors, carried bags, kept watch over those smaller than them.
    “Here you go.” Roarke returned with a large hoodie. “This is one of Sam’s.” He handed her the sweater while grabbing the hose back from her.
    “I’m fine.”
    Roarke simply looked at her. Sighing, she pulled it over her head, admitting to herself that it did make her feel better. Sam’s scent drifted around her, clean and sharp.
    “My legs feel fine now, I think you can stop drowning them,” she told Roarke jokingly.
    Instead of smiling, he glanced down at her thighs. “Few more minutes. You have to be careful with burns. I should never have yelled out at you like that. The hot water could have splashed up into your face or anything.”
    Self-recrimination filled his words and she instantly felt the need to soothe him.
    “Roarke, I’m fine. It’s just a bit of hot water, I’ve had much worse. And it was not your fault. I shouldn’t have been drinking tea at my desk. I’ve had enough water now,” she said reaching over to turn it off. Roarke grabbed her hand, stilling her. She shied back and he frowned.
    “Are you scared of me?” he asked in a low voice.
    She shook her head then stilled, remembering how she’d promised honesty and nodded slightly.
    He reached over slowly and pushed some hair behind her ear. “I’d never hurt you, honey. Not for the world.”
    Smiling slightly, she looked into his deep blue eyes—his rich, mouth-watering eyes—and saw how sincere he was.
    “I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but I consider you part of the family. And I protect what’s mine.”
    He leaned in, as though to kiss her, when Sam stepped into the bathroom, staring at them quizzically. His brows rose, no doubt from her state of semi-dress.
    “What’s wrong? Is Ava hurt?” he asked anxiously.
    “She burned her thighs,” Roarke said, standing so abruptly that she