Early to Bed?. Cara Summers

think we have anything to worry about yet,” Sam said. “You haven’t won a hand all night.”

      Though he wouldn’t have said that he had a pessimistic nature, Tony viewed his current cards as symbolic of his luck in general lately. The hotel, his family’s home, was threatening to fall down on his head. Literally. So far, he’d managed to keep the severity of the situation from his brothers. They didn’t need the grief. They certainly didn’t need to know that two big hotel conglomerates, McNeil Enterprises and Fortescue Investments were pressuring him to sell out. Not that he ever would—and certainly not to McNeil Enterprises. His father and J. R. McNeil had a history. That was all Tony knew, but it was bad enough for his dad to warn him never to trust anyone from the company.

      Still, Tony would have liked to discuss the hotel’s problems with someone. But Sam was a newlywed, and Drew had been working some tough undercover assignments at the precinct lately. The one person he might have confided in, his cousin Nick, was adjusting to fatherhood in Boston. He didn’t need anything raining on his parade, either. Besides, running the hotel was Tony’s job—the one his father had left him.

      “I only need one,” Drew said as he tossed his card on the table.

      “And I’m good,” Sam said.

      That figured, Tony thought. Truth told, Sam’s luck was on a roll. He was not only winning at poker tonight, but ever since he’d met and married A.J., his whole life had been on an upswing. The security company he worked for had made him a VP, and A.J. was expecting a baby in early summer.

      “I’m in for twenty,” Drew said, pushing chips into the center of the table.

      “Big talk.” Sam set a neat stack next to Drew’s. “I’ll see that and raise you thirty.”

      Drew added chips and the two men looked expectantly at Tony.

      “You can always fold now,” Sam said. “That way you can hold on to that pitiful pile of chips in front of you.”

      Tony turned to Drew. “That sounds like a bluff to me. I’ll bet he’s got squat.”

      “How much?” Drew asked.

      “Ten bucks,” Tony said.

      Drew grinned. “You’re on.”

      Sam shook his head sadly. “This is like taking money from a baby. You guys are no challenge at all.”

      Tony’s smile spread slowly. “Those three cards you just dealt me could make me a full house.”

      Drew snorted. “Not with the string of luck you’ve been having.”

      “I told you. It’s about to change,” Tony said as he placed his hand over the cards and rubbed them gently against the table. They wouldn’t give him a full house since he had an eight and nine in his hand. But they had to give him something. If there was one thing he believed in it was that a person’s luck could change as quickly as the weather.

      And Dame Vera’s prediction had only reinforced his own personal feeling that his was certainly due for a change. The feeling had started a week ago on the day that Lily McNeil had contacted him to offer her consulting services.

      She’d been the third person to contact him from McNeil Enterprises. First there’d been the invitation to lunch with J.R. Then there’d been the personal visit from the well-dressed and well-manicured Jerry Langford-McNeil. Not only had Lily been number three—Tony’s lucky number—but he sensed something about her that was…different. Her father and stepbrother were smooth-talking sharks. His impression of Lily was that she was more of a goldfish. He gave the three cards on the table a rub.

      Of course, he hadn’t believed one word of the line of baloney she’d fed him over the phone. She claimed she was starting a new department for her company, and she wanted to help him get an affordable loan to make the improvements that he’d always wanted to make. Plus, she would offer him a free analysis and a plan to increase profits so that he could pay off the loan in record time.

      Yeah, right. And then she’d probably have a bridge she’d want to sell him, too. No, it wasn’t her too-good-to-be-true offer that had intrigued him. Her voice had caught his attention. Throaty and sexy, it had contrasted sharply with her brisk and businesslike presentation of her offer. And for some reason, it had made him think of hot, sweaty, all-night sex—the kind he’d fantasized about as an adolescent.

      “Are you going to pick up those cards or not?” Sam asked.

      “In a second.” Tony continued to rub them gently against the table. He’d been looking forward to meeting Lily McNeil. Contrasts had always intrigued him. And when she’d laughed—

      Hell, he’d really wanted to meet her—and not just to discuss business. He wanted to make her laugh again. And he wanted to watch her eyes light up when she did. He’d lost track of how long it had been since a woman had aroused his interest the way Lily McNeil had during their one phone conversation.

      Then today, her office had called to cancel. She’d changed her mind about helping him, and she hadn’t even had the courtesy to call in person. Tony drew the cards closer to him. “I’m definitely due for a change of luck.”

      “You could certainly use some at the hotel,” Drew said. “Lucy was hauling buckets up to the eighth floor when I stopped in for a quick shower. The latest leak started there and flooded Dame Vera’s apartment. When are you going to break down and get the plumbing replaced?”

      “It’s on the list,” Tony said as he drew the first card toward him. Of course, the list was huge—a new computer system for reservations, a new stove in the kitchen, new carpeting for the lobby. But a leak on the top floor would have to be the priority. If it was allowed to continue, all the guestrooms below would be in danger. He managed a quick look at his watch. Eleven-thirty. Another half an hour and he’d make an excuse to leave.

      “Now you’ve done it,” Sam said to Drew. “He’s going to make some excuse to leave now so he can check on that leak.”

      “Not until I win this hand, and the ten bucks that Drew will owe me when you turn over the squat you’re holding.” Tony pushed chips into the center of the table.

      “You haven’t even looked at your cards,” Sam pointed out.

      “Don’t have to. Dame Vera told me my luck is about to change.” He picked up the first card and bit back a grin. The queen of hearts was a good start. An omen, perhaps. Then he picked up the last two cards and filled in his straight. Leaning back in his chair, he kept his face blank and let his brothers up the bet.

      2

      LILY HAD NEVER SEEN ANYTHING quite like the penthouse suite before. It had been built on one half of the roof of the hotel, and it spread out on two levels, a lower one that served as a roomy sitting area and an upper level that contained a kitchen and dining space. The most spectacular part was the glass wall that framed a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline. Even in the rain, the city was mesmerizing. In her mind, she pictured tables lined up against the glass, snowy white tablecloths, the gleam of silver.

      “Perfect.” There was no other word for it. Turning to Lucy, she said, “Why isn’t this space being used? Why isn’t it booked all the time?”

      “We’ve never offered it to guests,” Lucy explained as she stepped down into the sitting area. “My Uncle Henry built this place for Isabelle Sheridan, the woman he loved. They were a classic case of star-crossed lovers. She ran a very important investment company in Boston, and her family was socially prominent. They would have looked down on my uncle—to put it mildly. And running this hotel was his life. He could never have given it up and moved to Boston. She couldn’t turn her back on her family and her company and move here.”

      “They never married?”

      Lucy shook her head. “They used this place whenever they could for twenty years. Isn’t that romantic?”

      “Yes.”