Hot Sheets

by Jeanie London

  She sucked down a few grateful gulps, topped off her cup and brought a second to the table before Ms. J. resumed the meeting. Bless her. Laura never went long without a reminder of why she liked working here so well.

  "If we're through with department reports, then," Ms. J said, rejoining them, "we'll move on to Naughty Nuptials. Laura, if you please."

  The caffeine revived her, and Laura recapped yesterday's arrivals and the success of the evening's dinner with the press, before launching into a rundown of the day's scheduled events.

  "The only problem I foresee is with the Bad Bachelorette Party," Laura said. "Annabelle said something at dinner last night about you two escorting our male reporters that got me thinking… They can cover Jackson's Bad Bachelor Party but I can't very well invite them to join the ladies at the spa. Especially not with all I've heard about Delia's conservative parents."

  "But why, lassie?" Dougray asked, shooting her a twinkling look from beneath grizzled gray brows. "I thought that man of yours built the place for lads and lassies to enjoy together."

  Dale had been on this property since they'd broken ground on the Wedding Wing and no one had ever referred to him as her man. Laura narrowed her gaze at the maintenance supervisor, a warning to behave. He clearly found ribbing her publicly about Dale amusing—the very last thing she needed right now.

  "I think the ladies might find having strange men around while they're being wrapped head-to-toe in seaweed intrusive."

  Dougray laughed. "The laddies wouldnae mind, I'm sure."

  "No doubt."

  She caught sight of Adam eyeing them stoically across the table. "What if you invite Benjamin and Tyler to interview the guests afterward?"

  "That's a good idea, Adam," she said. "Perhaps if I arrange the time right after the party, we'll still have that just-pampered glow so they can capture the feel of the event."

  "Good thinking, team." Ms. J. inclined her head in approval. "This might also be a good opportunity to let the press tour the spa and interview the staff. They'll be fresh and fired up from the bachelorette party, too, which should only help convey their excitement over the Naughty Nuptials. And that's exactly what we need the press to see."

  "Especially since we're counting on building local name recognition for our spa," Annabelle added.

  Local name recognition translated into local business to keep the spa thriving off-season. Another important detail to the continued health and stability of Falling Inn Bed, as everyone at this table well knew.

  "All right then," Ms. J. continued. "Anything else from the departments?"

  "No," voices chorused from all around the table, and she gave a satisfied nod then moved on.

  "I have an item of new business to discuss." She passed around a stack of photocopies. "Bruno asked me to run by his Naughty Nuptials specialty menu for comments."

  As the house chef, Bruno refused to leave his kitchen during his on-season breakfast rush for what he called a managers? coffee klatch, and since Bruno's Place routinely earned five-star ratings from local reviewers that brought business into the inn from the surrounding locals, Ms. J. didn't insist otherwise.

  Laura accepted a copy from Annabelle and quickly assessed the layout Simple. Accessible. Elegant. But she hadn't glanced at the content before Adam said dryly, "Inter Courses. It's…raw, don't you think?"

  "Raw is how we like our guests around here," Dougray said and Laura stifled a laugh behind a cough. "That's the point of the menu—eat Bruno's aphrodisiac-spiced food and crave sex."

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. "I'm with Adam on this one, Mary. Inter Courses isn't in the same league as the Naughty Nuptials or Risqué Receptions."

  Ms. J. peered at the menu. "I don't know that I agree. It's overt but not necessarily too raw, or tactless."

  "You don't think so? Inter Courses!" Annabelle sampled the words. "It does get the point across. Then again, so does the Anal Atrium."

  Laura almost choked on a gulp of hot coffee, and there was no stifling the sound this time, not even over Doug-ray who burst into laughter. Even Ms. J. smiled. Clearly the story of Annabelle's antics yesterday had made the rounds of the staff and management.

  Annabelle clapped Laura on her back while Adam closed his eyes and looked as if his blood had chosen that exact moment to turn into battery add and start eating him from the inside out.

  "For the record," Laura managed. "It's a little edgy but I don't think it's in the same league as Anal Atrium."

  "All right, team, comments noted." Ms. J.'s eyes twinkled. "I'll consider your opinions, discuss the situation with Bruno and let you know what we decide. Which leads me to our last item of business before you all can get about your day." Her warm gaze riveted straight to Laura, who shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "A reminder to have fun. It has been a long haul since we first conceived of the Wedding Wing idea. We've placed a lot on the line and worked hard for this grand opening. We've earned the opportunity to enjoy ourselves, and I know none of you will have trouble mixing business with pleasure. We're also fortunate enough to have Adam, who'll staff the fort so we can relax."

  Ms. J. slid the agenda inside her day planner and smiled. "All right, team, have a great day and good luck."

  Heading to her office, Laura braced herself for the in-variable crises that had arisen during the night and found herself pleasantly surprised that nothing catastrophic had cropped up. Checking in with her assistant, Frank, currently en route to Old Fort Niagara with Delia's parents, she received a thumbs-up and breathed a sigh of relief. The first day of Naughty Nuptials seemed to be off to a decent start.

  Okay, she could have lived without showing up late to a staff meeting and becoming the butt of Annabelle and Dougray's jokes, but she really had no regrets about waking up to Dale, either.

  The concierges she'd scheduled on duty this morning were easily accommodating the guests, attending their business needs, directing them to off-property attractions or educating them to the variety of features Falling Inn Bed offered.

  On-season meant gorgeous June weather and many summertime activities. Not only were the waterfront bungalows opened for guests who wanted a more rustic experience, but guided adventure tours for all levels of hiking enthusiasts took place in the vast array of footpaths through the state park that separated the inn from the falls. Falling Inn Bed also boasted tennis courts and a marina for boat trips on the river.

  Satisfied that her staff had the day under control, Laura headed to the front desk to check on the status of impending check-ins. When she bumped into Delia and Jackson in the lobby, she took the opportunity to ask them about their wedding party's arrival before popping into a specialty store on the promenade to check on the party favors for the sex-toy shower. While there, she picked up a surprise gift for Dale.

  Work distracted her from any and all thoughts of how badly she wanted a shower and another cup of coffee straight through until lunch, when her radio vibrated with news that the bride's parents had arrived on property exactly on schedule. Laura headed back to the lobby to greet her newest guests.

  She couldn't have missed Major General and Mrs. Wallace even if Frank hadn't been with them. The major general, casually dressed in slacks and Polo shirt, still had the commanding presence of a high-ranking military officer, and the woman by his side could only be Delia's mother. They were both smiling as Frank led them into the lobby.

  So far so good.

  "Welcome to Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast" Accent on bed and breakfast as one phrase, Laura introduced herself. "I hope you enjoyed your tour of the town."

  "Turns out Major General and Mrs. Wallace have a passion for historical sites," Frank said. "We managed to see two this morning."

  "We have our share in the area. And a number of military sites, as well. Any chance you can make some time after the wedding to let Frank show you the Canadian side of the border?"

  "We're counting on it," the major general said. "Don't want to leave the area until I see Fort Erie."
<
br />   Laura knew the history of the British garrison, a strategic military site during the War of 1812. "Definitely worth the trip. They use authentically dressed guards and interpreters to recreate the operations base for the invasion of Canada."

  The major general looked enthusiastic but, as expected, Mrs. Wallace proved a tougher sell. She only inclined her head. "You were kind to have arranged our tour, Ms. Granger."

  "My pleasure. As our honorary bride's parents, you get special treatment And I have to tell you how very fond we are of Delia and Jackson. Not only do we owe them our new Wedding Wing, but they worked on the property long enough to become part of the family. Just wait until you see the result of all their hard work. It's amazing."

  "They promised us a grand tour after lunch ." Mrs. Wallace smiled, a real smile that suggested while the tour had been pleasant, the concern for her daughter and future son-in-law meant much more.

  "Excellent," Laura said. "I'll let the staff know that you'll be coming. We've got a brand-new full-service spa and our beautiful atrium where Delia and Jackson's wedding will be." She'd keep them focused on the amenities and out of the romance-themed honeymoon suites.

  Motioning them across the lobby, she said, "Bruno's cooking up something special and I happen to know that Delia and Jackson have been seated already and are looking forward to seeing you."

  By the time Laura got her bridal couple and family settled at Bruno's Place, it was close to one o'clock and her stomach had started protesting a lack of food. She thought about sneaking into her office for a quick bite but decided even more pressing than hunger was her need for a shower. She'd wilted like a flower and still had a long afternoon and night ahead.

  Changing direction in midstride, she headed back into the restaurant, reaching for her radio. "Got a copy, King Cuisine?"

  "This better be good," Bruno replied over the crackling channel. "You're interfering with an artist at work."

  "Must have food," she chanted. "Must have food."

  "You know where to come, little lady."

  "Bless you, Bruno."

  Smiling at several of the waitstaff herding around the window as the steward called out prepared orders, she slipped through the doors to the kitchen and headed in the direction of the voice that boomed over the chaotic lunch rush.

  Falling Inn Bed's head chef and restaurateur was a brawny man with a balding pate that disappeared neatly beneath his toque. He knew his kitchen as intimately as Laura knew her Wedding Wing and might have had eyes in the back of his head for the way he directed everything taking place around him. She'd barely made it through the door before he waved her back.

  Striding through the food preparation tables where prep cooks competently worked under Bruno's watchful eyes, she smiled appreciatively as he plucked three steaming jumbo shrimp off a platter and dropped them into a garnish cup.

  "Wonton shrimp. Squisito!"

  "You darling man." She accepted her cup and kissed his cheek. "What would I do without you?"

  "You'd waste away to nothing." Rocking back on his heels, he eyed her assessingly. "Now eat up or else you won't have the strength to enjoy that new man of yours."

  "You're as bad as Dougray." Scooping up a shrimp, she took a bite. The taste of ginger and green onion burst in her mouth and she gave an ecstatic moan before swallowing. "And for the record, Dale's not my man."

  Bruno waggled his brows. "Shellfish—the sine qua non of aphrodisiacs. If he's not your man yet, he soon will be."

  The tender shrimp and the delicate taste were so welcome Laura couldn't even work up a decent reprimand. "Inter Courses, Bruno? Were you drinking decaf when you came up with that?"

  Without taking his gaze from hers, he yelled, "Eh, eh, what are you doing, Ray Jay? B-2 doesn't want almonds on those chicken crepes."

  Laura watched as the cook arranging food on a plate shot a startled look their way, gave a quick nod and sprinkled the handful of nuts back into a container.

  "Prepare the food with natural aphrodisiacs and call the dishes names that make guests think of sex." Bruno gave a laugh. "Next thing you know, they're naked in their rooms. Good for business, don't you think?"

  "I think, definitely."

  He replaced the shrimp she'd eaten and said, "Now get out of my kitchen. You're breaking my concentration."

  As the recipient of his largess, she didn't argue, just thanked him and headed out a side door leading to the promenade.

  She finished the last shrimp while climbing the stairs to the fifth floor and arrived back at the Castaway Honeymoon Isle to find it empty. A blessing, she decided, tossing the remains of her lunch into the trash and washing her hands in the kitchen.

  Fortified and ready for a shower, she set the shopping bag on the table and withdrew the foil-wrapped package. This had been an impulse buy, a little something she'd seen and thought Dale might enjoy. Since he seemed so determined to live up to his press, she wouldn't miss a chance to live up to her promises, too.

  Placing the package front and center on the dining room table where he couldn't miss it, she headed toward the bathroom. Time was short before she had to get back to oversee the final arrangements for the welcome reception.

  The shower spray hit her in a hot burst, melting away the vestiges of the night and infusing her with new energy, and Laura was so absorbed in the shower spray pounding away at her senses that she never noticed Dale's arrival in the bathroom. After she'd lathered and rinsed her hair, she opened her eyes to find him standing there, wearing jeans, a flannel shirt and work boots. He looked exactly like the man she'd gotten used to seeing around the Wedding Wing construction site, only his knowing smile was new. A reminder of what they'd shared last night.

  He didn't say a word, just lazily raked his gaze over her as she twisted her wet hair over her shoulder. She was suddenly aware of how each rivulet of water coursed over her and flowed off her breasts, how the gloss of steam caressed her bare skin in the wake of his appreciative gaze. It took a moment to realize he held her gift.

  He gave the red ball a suggestive shake. "A magic ball?"

  It was an erotic knockoff of those Laura remembered from her youth, the kind she'd ask questions of and receive answers like, "Yes, definitely," or "Try again later."

  Except this one magically offered sexy suggestions;…

  Flipping it over, he peered myopically at the tiny window on the bottom. "Touch a body part of choice."

  A wicked thrill sizzled through her when he reached for his belt and flipped it open. "I'll need to get undressed for this."

  And she forgot all about running late.

  Chapter Nine

  Dale retrieved two more flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and pressed one into Laura's hand She wasn't doing more than taking an odd sip as she mingled with her guests and he watched glass after glass go flat. He, on the other hand, wasn't using his champagne as a prop. He seemed to be thirsty tonight, the blame for which he placed on Laura, who stood beside him looking even lovelier than usual.

  The pale pink number she wore hugged her curves and left her shoulders bare, showcasing her breasts to such perfection that the sight made his mouth dry. Now that she'd braided her hair again, he could obsess over all that bare skin. Her heart-shaped face and delicate jaw angled down to the slim column of her throat, the curve of her shoulders.

  And all that cleavage.

  He kept going back to the cleavage. Dale just couldn't look at her without being blindsided by the memory of touching her, doing all those pleasurable things that inspired her to the breathy little moans that drove him wild.

  When she smiled up at him, just an offhand look while explaining the differences between a romance resort and a singles resort, he felt the conversation slide out of his head.

  He'd attended more social events working for ADF than he cared to recall, shmoozing with the members of historic preservation boards, city council members who voted on the proposed project budgets and various fund-raising arts and cultural groups
. He knew how to play this game, but tonight he couldn't look at Laura and focus on much but the sight of her.

  The major general had mentioned his wife was an avid reader, and Laura zeroed in on that as their topic. She compared Falling Inn Bed to a romance novel that dealt with the journey to happily-ever-after as opposed to erotica stories where characters had sex for the joys of sex alone.

  Having never read a romance novel, Dale basically had no clue what she was talking about, and a glance at the major general suggested he didn't either. But Delia's mother seemed engrossed and he ensuing conversation left the men to enjoy a few moments' respite from the constant demands of party chatter.

  This break was well earned, too, because Laura had been dragging him through this ballroom all night He'd followed along at her heels, playing date to the reception hostess as if he'd been born to the job. He'd laughed with her guests, supplied her with champagne and stood close enough to admire the view of her cleavage.

  Obsession? he asked himself again. Or something more?

  Whatever his problem, he'd picked it up at this inn and hoped like hell that three weeks of sexual indulgence at the scene of the crime would cure him.

  He wouldn't take that bet After two years of Laura's rejection, a month-long separation and some seriously mind-blowing sex, he shouldn't be this distracted by her. Bottom line, the dating game he usually played had turned into a mating game with rules he didn't understand.

  The closest he'd ever come was watching his boss and long-time buddy Nick in hot pursuit of the woman who'd wound up changing both their lives.

  Dale remembered the night he and Nick had met Julienne as if it had been yesterday. They'd commissioned the restoration of the Risqué Theatre and had arrived in Savannah geared up to work like they had on a hundred jobs over the past decade. But on their first night in town, Nick had taken one look at Julienne and had been consumed, which had altered Dale's way of life forever.

  He'd laughed like hell while watching Nick muddle through the bump and grind of becoming a contender for Julienne's affections. He'd laughed even harder as he stood beside Nick at the altar when his bride had walked down the aisle.