Room Service. Jill Shalvis

      Welcome to the Hush Hotel!

      Check out the couple in room 1212…

      “You know what toys the suites are equipped with?” Jacob’s voice left no doubt as to what category of “toys” he was referring to.

      Em took a big gulp. “I think so.”

      He stared at her, the kind of deep, dark, edgy look that might have sent her running if it hadn’t been him. But she knew him now, and his bark was far worse than his bite.

      At least, she hoped so.

      “There are toys for every kind of sex adventure the hotel guests could want.”

      She took another gulp. “I know. I want…I want to see.”

      He muttered something to himself that sounded like “Don’t do it, Hill,” rubbing the day-old growth on his jaw in agitation.

      She wanted to feel the roughness of it against her skin. “Show me,” she whispered.

      “I must be insane. Insane.” He walked away a few feet, then stalked back, taking her hand. “Come on, then.”

      She wanted to tell him not to worry, it would be okay. But of course it wouldn’t. Nothing would ever be okay again.

      Dear Reader,

      It’s been a while since I wrote a book for Harlequin Blaze. Too long. In fact, I’d wondered if I would remember how…. But happily it was like getting on a bike. Fun, exhilarating and always exciting.

      This story is part of the DO NOT DISTURB series, which takes place in the plush, exotic hotel Hush in New York City. The setting itself was a character, as the hotel caters to the…um, let’s call it the sensually adventurous. I singed my fingertips writing a couple of the scenes…. I wonder if you’ll be able to tell which ones.

      I hope you’ve enjoyed reading DO NOT DISTURB. And don’t forget to check out eHarlequin.com for related online stories.

      In the meantime, check in to Hush…and enjoy the fun.

      Jill Shalvis

      Room Service

      Jill Shalvis

      

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Prologue

      Los Angeles

      EMMA HARRIS WAS PART Hollywood business shark, part Ohio farm girl, and though that might seem like an odd combination, it had always worked for her.

      Until now.

      Now she was a twenty-seven-year-old TV producer facing her last chance in this business. If she blew it, then goodbye job, goodbye career, goodbye to it all because she’d be washed up. Done, finished, finito, before she’d even hit the big three-oh.

      But she was too determined, too stubborn, to allow that to happen. Of course, it didn’t help that everyone at the production company she worked for thought her luck had run out, including her own assistant, who’d quit last week to go to work as a grip at an NBC sitcom. But Em would never give up.

      Nope, she was made of sterner stuff than that. She’d grown up in Ohio, on a thriving family farm, which she’d left to go to college and then produce television shows. Her parents were still horrified, certain that a girl like her, with strong morals and ethics, couldn’t possibly make a go of it in Hollywood, but she was dead set on proving them wrong.

      She loved this job. She simply wouldn’t believe she couldn’t make it work, her way.

      But she’d been summoned by the boss…reminding her that determination was not enough, not in Hollywood. Drawing a deep breath, she made the long walk from her office to his. Outside his closed door, she smoothed her skirt, decided there was no hope for her hair so she didn’t even try and, after pasting a smile over her worried frown, knocked with every ounce of confidence and authority she had.

      “Come in!”

      Em opened the door. From the big leather chair behind his big, fancy network desk, Nathan Bennett scowled.

      Em locked her smile in place. “You wanted to see me?”

      “Emmaline Harris. Sit.”

      Great, her full name. Never a good sign. She entered and sat where he indicated—a smaller, far less comfortable-looking chair, which was there, she knew, to make people feel inferior.

      She wouldn’t let it work. After all, she’d been raised with her mother’s words ringing in her ears. “Em,” she’d say, hands on her hips, her jeans dirty from hard work. “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

      A quote from Eleanor Roosevelt, of course, and Em had always believed it. She was tough enough for this town!

      Nathan looked at her for a long moment, as if measuring his words carefully. “Do you know why you’re here today?”

      To be fired. Unless she could fast-talk her way back. Which she could do, she told herself. She could fast-talk with the best of them. It was lying and manipulation she had trouble with. “I’m pretty certain.”

      Nathan nodded, looking stern and unhappy, and Em felt as if she was sitting in front of the principal, only this was worse, far worse, because being ousted here meant so much more than a few days suspension without homework. It meant bye-bye paycheck.

      But she would not be saying bye-bye to her self-respect. Nope, if she was going down, then she’d go down with pride intact.

      Nathan steepled his fingers. “We hired you, Emmaline, in spite of your utter lack of experience in this business, because we thought you were a bright star on the horizon, just waiting to make her mark.”

      “Sir—”

      “We thought you’d do great things for our production company.”

      “And I hope I’m just getting started.” She tried the smile again.

      It still wasn’t returned.

      Instead, Nathan rearranged his already perfectly arranged pencil and pen set to the right of his spotless blotter. “Emmaline, can you explain the last three shows you produced here?”

      “Well, I—”

      “And why each failed?”

      Her smile faltered. Yes, she could. But she wouldn’t. Because that would mean hurting others. When she’d first come to town, she hadn’t understood the rules—or, rather, that there were no rules. She got it now, the challenge being to make that work to her benefit without compromising herself. “I’m sure everyone here has had some trouble at one