Hush. Jo Leigh

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Название Hush
Автор произведения Jo Leigh
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Blaze
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472028891



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Hush had all the potential to be a first-class hotel, but no. She had to go and make it a haven for the kinky. It was a very expensive way to act out, and the consequences were far reaching. But would she listen to him?

      He put his empty glass on the bar. He still had to take his luggage upstairs, get settled in his room. It was almost two, and the place had cleared out considerably, but there were still some die-hards left.

      Piper looked as fresh as she had when he’d first walked in. How she’d managed that, he couldn’t say. She must have been nervous as hell at this first sneak peek, but it didn’t show.

      He wouldn’t bother her. Not tonight. Let her get some rest. She’d need it. So would he. Tomorrow was going to be…interesting.

      PIPER WAS as exhausted as a person could be and still be upright. She made her way through the dwindling crowd looking for Janice.

      There she was, standing by the leaded glass doors, and oh, Mick, her hunky boyfriend, had finally made an appearance. Seeing them together, Piper smiled. They’d met here, at Hush. Janice had moved in a few weeks ago, when Piper herself had taken up residence. There had been so much to do to get the hotel ready for the opening date. And Mick, he’d been here, too. He was a master carpenter, and he’d worked on several of the penthouse suites. He and Janice had hit it off right away, even though she was eight years his senior. It looked like love to Piper.

      At least someone was happy. That was a good thing. Her gaze swept the room but she didn’t see Trace. He must have slipped out while she’d been busy. He was probably upstairs right now, slipping between the sheets.

      She could’ve given him one of the penthouses, but she hadn’t. He was in a regular suite, which was still incredibly wonderful, but he didn’t have all the bells and whistles. Petty, but screw it. He didn’t deserve a penthouse.

      She, on the other hand, did. She had taken the Gaul-tier suite, and she’d kill to be up there right now. Only half an hour to go until she could shoo everyone out to the taxis on Madison. Till she could collapse. At least until 6:00 a.m. tomorrow.

      THE SUITE was huge by Manhattan standards. It wasn’t in the deco style of the hotel, instead it was Asian with shoji screens, a low California King bed with a deep scarlet comforter, Ikebana flower arrangements and Asian prints on the walls. There was an elegance in the materials that made Trace sigh as he put his suitcase on the bed.

      As he unpacked, he noticed more details of the room. The sunken Jacuzzi bathtub with inset candles climbing the wall. The shower with three showerheads. The video camera and blank tapes standing in the corner of the bedroom. And then there was the selection of adult DVDs in the television armoire.

      He had to laugh when he realized the book in the bedside drawer was the Kama Sutra, nestled next to a fur glove and a selection of flavored oils.

      Not surprisingly, the bathroom cabinet housed a box of condoms and several varieties of lubricant. The whole suite was designed for decadence, built for two.

      He walked over to the window by the desk and opened the drapes. There was the city, brilliant and shiny in front of him. What would his life have been like if he’d gone into family law, instead of joining his father’s firm? As if he’d had a choice. He’d been brought up in the fold. The expectations had been there since birth. Probably since conception. On the plus side, he made lots of money. Lots and lots. Travel across the globe. All the prestige a man could want. Yet, here he was, babysitting.

      The whole episode was a farce, a father-daughter drama with expensive toys. Piper wasn’t going to change, God knows Nicholas wasn’t going to budge. So what was the point? The hotel would be a sensation for a while, then the luster would fade and instead of booking the headliners, they’d get the wannabes from Jersey and honeymoon couples from Wisconsin.

      If she was lucky, she wouldn’t lose all her money. But even if he was wrong and the place was the hottest ticket in New York history, Nicholas was still going to cut her off. He’d never met two more stubborn people.

      The important thing to remember was that the outcome wasn’t his problem. He’d do what he was paid to do, and let nothing else get in the way. Not his contempt for Nicholas’s dictatorial ways, not his amazement at the circus that was Piper’s life. Not even the way he got hard every time he looked at her.

      He was a big boy. He wasn’t controlled by his gonads, and hadn’t been for a long time. That Piper could get to him like no one else was immaterial. Hell, she’d been a temptation forever.

      They never spoke about that night. It had been her seventeenth birthday, and because she was Piper, she’d had too much to drink. The party had been at the Orpheus, and she’d asked him to come upstairs to her private suite. It had been late, he’d had a bit too much champagne himself. He’d been totally unprepared for what happened.

      She’d offered herself to him. Told him in no uncertain terms that she loved him, wanted him. It had taken every bit of willpower he had to walk away.

      She’d never forgiven him.

      But they still had to work together. It was ten years now, and still, the repercussions just kept on unfolding. Every meeting, every phone call, every social engagement where he watched the flash of her eyes, heard the silk of her laugh, he paid again.

      He closed the drapes and headed for the bathroom. He needed to sleep.

      PIPER FINALLY CRAWLED into bed at three-thirty. Bone tired, she figured she’d fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

      She was wrong. At four, she was still thinking. Not about her father, not about losing all that money, but about Trace. About his being here for a week. A whole week. How in hell was she going to get through this?

      3

      MORNING HIT with a vengeance. Trace cursed the lack of room service, but blessed the coffeepot in the suite. He waited until seven to call Piper. He’d forgotten to get her room number, so he dialed her cell. She sounded more hungover than he felt.

      “What do you want, Trace?”

      “Breakfast would be good.”

      “Fine. When?”

      “Half an hour?”

      “Meet me in the employee cafeteria. It’s on basement two.”

      “Fine.” He hung up, then went to the desk and plugged in his laptop. He checked his e-mail, and answered most of it. His secretary, Terry, knew he’d be at the hotel for the week, and she’d cancelled or postponed his meetings. Because he worked exclusively for the Devon corporation as one of their attorneys, Nicholas had had no qualms about sending him down here, even though he had an apartment on the Upper East Side. While Trace felt a week was excessive, Devon disagreed, and since he signed the checks…

      A week with Piper. Shit. It was going to be hard enough getting her to go along with her father’s plans, but to have to eat with her, be near her. He should call Ellen. She was great. Smart. Pretty. A real-estate attorney he’d met six months ago. They’d gone out two, no, three times. He liked her. She had a great laugh.

      He went to his briefcase to pull out his PalmPilot, but then it was time to go for breakfast. He ran his hand through his hair, and headed out.

      Breakfast with Piper. Gee, how’d he get so lucky?

      MEMORANDUM

      To: Room Service and Housekeeping

      From: Janice Foster, General Manager, HUSH Hotel

      Date: Saturday

      Re: Trace Winslow, suite 9006

      Extra coffee!!! Check at noon and 3:00 to make sure he has enough.

      Half and half in the fridge, replace daily!

      New bottle of Stoli daily!!! Keep it in the fridge.

      Fresh fruit and sparkling water at turndown!

      VVVVVIP!!!!!!!!