died to come back and help Aunt Elsie. It seemed easier to work from here until everything is settled with the estate.’
‘I’m sorry you’ve been so inconvenienced,’ he said, looking at her with a concerned frown. ‘I had no idea you’d given up your office.’
She waved a dismissive hand. ‘I was glad to come home. Flossie was missing your grandfather and Aunt Elsie was finding it hard to do everything on her own.’
‘Your business is doing well, though, isn’t it? You’re running at a decent profit?’
Layla was not going to admit to him or to anyone how close to the wind she sailed at times with her business. Failure was not an option. A nightmare that haunted her, yes, but not an option. Failure would prove she was nothing but a product of her chaotic childhood—a child of addicts. Her parents had had no ambition beyond the goal of sourcing enough alcohol and drugs for their next binge.
Owning her own cleaning business gave Layla power and control, and God alone knew how little of that she’d had in her childhood. ‘I do okay.’ She put her glass back down again.
‘How okay?’ His gaze was as direct as a laser pointer.
Layla shifted in her seat and lowered her eyes to the remains of her meal on her plate. ‘It’s not always easy to get reliable workers. It takes time to build up trust, to know they’re always going to do the right thing by me and the people I get them to clean for.’ She met his gaze and continued. ‘They’re cleaning people’s homes where valuables and personal effects are not always under lock and key, and often the clients are not at home when my staff are there.’
A frown brought his ink-black eyebrows together. ‘Don’t you do background checks on them first?’
‘Some of the young people I employ wouldn’t pass a background check,’ Layla said. ‘They need someone to give them a break for once. To not always be expecting them to slip up or fail. I believe in showing trust first and teaching them some skills, hoping it triggers the desire in them to make better choices.’ The sort of choices she wished her parents had made.
‘Admirable of you, but you’re setting yourself up for guaranteed disappointment.’ His tone matched his cynical expression.
Layla hoisted her chin a fraction. ‘My vision for my business is not just about making a big profit. It’s about making a difference in people’s lives. Lives that others have judged and found wanting. But I know how powerful it can be when someone believes in you. Someone who sees something in you that no one else does. It’s…it’s transformative.’
His eyes moved over her face like a searchlight for a long moment and she had to fight not to shift her gaze.
‘Is that because of what happened in your childhood?’ His tone had lost its cynical edge. ‘My grandparents giving permission for you to come and live here with your great-aunt?’
‘It’s getting late.’ Layla pushed back her chair and rose from the table and began to gather the plates. Next he’d be asking her to spill all about her miserable childhood and that she was determined not to do. Thankfully, privacy laws had prevented the McLaughlins from hearing too many of the gory details about her early years—details Layla dearly wished she could forget. ‘I think I can hear Flossie asking to be let out.’
Logan placed a hand over her forearm as she reached for his plate. ‘I don’t want you to wait on me, Layla. I want you to talk to me. There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, and we need to know it if we’re going to make our relationship appear genuine.’
She glanced at his hand on her arm and gave him a pointed look. ‘Do you mind?’
He released her hand, his tone and expression softening. ‘I don’t know all the details but I know your background was difficult. It must have been, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up living here. I think it’s great how you’ve taken charge and started your own business. But don’t be too proud to ask for help if you need it.’ He rose to his feet and pushed in his chair, adding, ‘There’s one other thing I think I should tell you. We’ll have to get married abroad and soon. According to Scottish law, there’s a twenty-eight-day waiting period before we can get a marriage licence, and I don’t want to lose any more valuable time.’
‘Married abroad?’ Layla opened and closed her mouth. ‘Please tell me you’re not thinking Vegas and an Elvis impersonator?’
He gave a crooked smile that made something in her chest ping like a latch springing open. ‘No. But if you’re not keen on an impersonal register office, how about a small and simple ceremony on a beach in Hawaii?’
Hawaii. The land of bikinis and beaches and beautiful bodies.
Oh, joy.
A COUPLE OF days after the legal work was completed in Edinburgh, Layla flew business class with Logan to the island of Maui in Hawaii. The luxury villa he’d organised for their short stay was situated at Kapalua Bay beach, a gorgeous crescent of blindingly white sand and turquoise water and palm trees. Layla felt as if she was living in a dream sequence—swept away to an exotic location by a handsome billionaire who was intent on marrying her as quickly as he could.
But not for the romantic reasons her girlhood dreams had envisaged.
The speed and efficiency with which Logan set about achieving a goal was nothing less than breathtaking. Layla barely had time to get her head around the idea of a beach wedding, let alone buy the appropriate attire for it, when she found herself standing on the balcony of the beautiful villa overlooking the ocean with just minutes to spare before the ceremony.
Her wedding day.
It was strange to think that this time last week she had been a single woman with a simple goal of keeping her business on track. Now she was about to be married to a man she had known for most of her life who didn’t love her the way a husband should love his bride.
But Logan did love his family’s home and so did she, so it would have to be a good enough reason to marry. The only reason to marry, because the last thing she needed was to get silly ideas in her head about their relationship lasting beyond the year, as set down in the document his lawyer had drawn up.
One year and one year only.
The money Logan had transferred to her account on signing the document would guarantee Layla’s business success. It was exactly the windfall she needed to expand her business from a scribbled sticky-note vision into a profit-making reality.
Logan came out to the balcony where she was standing looking at the view. She turned to face him with an attempt at a smile. Their wedding ceremony was minutes away but if he was uncomfortable or uneasy about what they were about to do, he wasn’t showing it on his face. They might as well have been heading down the beach for an afternoon stroll.
He pushed back his shirt sleeve to glance at the silver watch on his strong tanned wrist. ‘The celebrant will be here in ten minutes.’
‘Okay…’ Layla took a deep breath and smoothed her hand down over her churning stomach. ‘Isn’t it meant to be bad luck for you to see me in my dress
