Bear Treble (Highland Brothers 4) Read Free Page A

piece of bacon dangling from his fingers. What in the hell did he just say? He tried to think of something to cover it up. Something that would make her forget he just called her beautiful, but he thought about it too long.
    “You think I’m beautiful?” she taunted.
    He closed his eyes tightly, trying to drown out the sounds his bear was making. He needed to quiet him, rope him back in to a dark corner. Layla wasn’t for him.
    “Everyone thinks you’re pretty. You’re Layla Love.” He tried to chuckle, but there was no way he could pull it off. His heart was splitting open, his bear tearing at him to look at his mate. To comfort her. To tell her everything she needed to hear.
    She sighed. “Oh, yeah. Everyone.” She hopped off the stool. “I’m going to go change. I’ll be down in a few.”
    “Sounds good.” He didn’t want to turn around and see her. He could feel the way the air had changed after his blunder.
    “Is any room ok?” she asked.
    He focused on the bacon sizzling in the pan. “Yeah. Help yourself. The back wing upstairs is mainly for guests. Take your pick. Go to the end of the hall and hang a left.”
    “Thanks.”
    He turned around to see Layla pick her high heels off the floor. She walked out of the kitchen holding them in her right hand.
    Damn it. In less than an hour that woman had completely gotten under his skin.

6
    Layla
    S he pulled the suitcases behind her, ducking her head in each room. Dylan wasn’t kidding. There were tons of empty guestrooms on the second floor.
    By now she thought she would be used to the wealth and money that came with her success, but standing in Highland House she knew her money wasn’t like this. Hers came to her fast and furious after one breakout album.
    Sure people loved to write articles about her rags to riches success. But no one really liked to think about it. How she grew up with nothing. How there was only one pair of shoes. Only one pair of jeans. And if she was lucky, she got a new summer outfit, not her sister’s hand-me-downs.
    She thought about that girl as she walked along the corridor of the guest wing. It made her feel small, just like that girl she used to be. If this was the life Dylan grew up in, they didn’t have much in common. That didn’t matter. She only needed him to give her a song now that would keep her on top.
    Every time she walked in the studio she was terrified the new music wouldn’t live up to the old albums. It would be judged and ridiculed for being too artistically indulgent, or too close to the trend. It kept her up at night. It kept her up all day. It was the only reason she had allowed Billy to sign Dylan Highland. She had to have the best to keep her at the top.
    She settled on a room near the end of the hall. There was a fireplace and a four-poster bed. Almost quaint, but big enough she could spread out all the suitcases.
    The smell of dinner floated up from the first floor.
    For a moment in the kitchen she thought Dylan was hitting on her. It was brief, but there was something in the way he called her beautiful that tugged at her. Just as unexpectedly as it came, it vanished. She shook her head. He was a moody songwriter. Brilliant, famous, and even called an artistic genius, but it didn’t take five minutes with the guy to realize he was also cocky, arrogant, and rude. He didn’t want her there, but she wasn’t leaving until she had what she wanted.
    Layla unzipped the first bag and began to arrange her cosmetics on the bathroom counter. It wasn’t like she needed his attention or his approval. She dabbed a bit of her lotion against her wrists and rubbed them together. She loved the way the white rain smelled on her skin. It was almost as good as taking a shower. She had bought the bottle on her last trip to Paris.
    She shrugged off her leather jacket, and pulled out her new tartan shirt. It had been $400 at a boutique. She fastened the buttons and looked at her reflection. Dylan had studied her