Hot Sheets

by Jeanie London

  Miranda would never have played the personal hand. She would have kept their past history to herself until she'd discovered how much everyone already knew. Miranda operated subtly, controlling the chance of messy repercussions.

  Which had led to realization number two: the escort situation for their newly assigned reporter was destined for disaster. Miranda's perfect decorum was more along the lines of what Adam could comfortably handle. Tori's waltz-through-the-door-and-leave-no-one-standing style had the assistant G.M. scowling before he'd gotten into Ms. J.'s office.

  She'd shaken Laura's hand and said, "Well, well, well, I get to investigate the Laura Granger up close and personal. This will be interesting."

  Emphasis on investigate which added another layer of personal innuendo, and Laura knew right then that Tori would eat Adam as an hors d'oeuvre before gobbling her for the main course.

  Then she drew a line in the sand "Be forewarned, bedding consultant, I'm here to get the real scoop on what you're doing around here. I want the down and dirty."

  Before Laura could recover from that, Tori turned on Adam. "I assume you won't want me attending your events stag. Do you want me to invite a date or will you supply a tour guide? Someone in executive management, perhaps."

  Adam looked as though he might burst a blood vessel at just the thought of attending events with this woman, but he stepped up to the plate like the professional he was. "I'll be escorting you to our grand opening functions."

  "Great I'll be writing articles daily to report on those functions and keep our readership up to speed. In between events, I'll research the history of the inn and interview staff and guests. I'm going to be pretty demanding, Adam Grant."

  "I'll make myself available," he said in a voice Laura recognized as expecting the worst.

  And it looked like he'd get it, too, because Tori flashed him a smile that said, "Watch out!"

  By the time the interview ended, Laura knew they were all in trouble. Taking a page from Tori's book, she placed her cards on the table after escorting the woman from the office.

  "I know you visited us for Miranda's wedding," she said. "But I can arrange a grand tour if you'd like, introduce you to our shop owners and, of course, I'll acquaint you with the Wedding Wing myself."

  "I'm counting on it I was here for my sister's wedding and I have to tell you she was mighty put out you didn't coordinate her event I think she wanted you to wait on her hand and foot." She gave an offhand shrug. Personally, I was impressed with how you weaseled out of the deal.

  "Trust me, it's not every day Miranda gets turned down and let me tell you, there's nothing worse than a bitchy bride."

  Laura had no clue how to respond to that admission. Fortunately, she didn't have to because Tori was too busy taking in the main lobby.

  "There's a story in this place and I intend to find it," she said. "You've been setting this town on its ear since you started this whole bedding consultant tiling, but you've managed to keep it clean enough that none of the movers and shakers around here ever have anything to object to."

  Laura could hear the yet in there. "It's easy to keep things clean. We are clean. We're a romance resort—"

  "I know, I know. I read all your spin." Waving a dismissive hand, Tori slowed as they passed the toy shop.

  At first glance the display behind the pristine glass appeared to be nothing more than luxury gift baskets filled with personal items decorated in the colors of summer flowers. But Laura knew those baskets were filled with sexual enhancements and stepped up her pace to avoid confronting Joy Jelly, Motion Lotion and Peterbutter two seconds after she'd claimed to run a clean establishment.

  No such luck.

  "Pleasure and Sizzle, a naughty nipple cream." Tori shot her an amused glance. "Squeaky clean, I see."

  "Do I need to be worried?"

  "Not if you're telling me the truth and running this place on the up and up," Tori replied. "I want the scoop, and I'll get it If you're asking me if whether I'll be biased because of our family situation, let's just say that I'm not looking to blast you unless you deserved to be blasted."

  "I hear a but in there."

  Tori laughed. "But.. .I've got a more personal perspective on you than Benjamin did, or Tyler Tripp for that matter. I'm probably looking for different things in my story. You're interesting around here, Laura, and the locals like to read about our families. I intend to do whatever it takes to make my coverage of this place shoot the circulation through the roof. I've got an agenda."

  "Proving yourself?"

  She nodded and patted the laptop case slung over one shoulder. "That, and furthering my career. Unlike my big sister, who's living the life my family expects her to live, I'm a career girl. You are, too, so I'm sure you understand what that entails."

  What Laura understood was that Tori Ford wasn't at all what she'd been expecting, and she still had no idea if that boded well or ill for her inn. But the woman had at least been up front about her intentions—her sister would never have been - and that gave Laura something to work with.

  Directing Tori to the Wedding Wing's front desk, she said, "Let's get you checked in."

  With a glance, she directed the desk clerk to stand aside and went into the system to upgrade Tori's room assignment from a nice corner room to the Wedding Knight Suite.

  In Ms. J.'s office, Tori had mentioned looking forward to working with Tyler. As the bedding consultant, it was Laura's job to facilitate romance in any way she could.

  While Tyler was definitely too bohemian for her personal tastes, he was a handsome, ambitious man who'd proven he appreciated romance. Tori was a beautiful woman who shared a common interest in journalism, and if there was any way at all to distract this woman from eating Adam for a snack, Laura was not above matchmaking.

  "I have to tell you that I was shocked when you man-aged to get a Mireille Marceaux erotic on loan from Westfalls," Tori said and Laura glanced up from the computer to find her staring at the Falling Woman with a frankly disbelieving expression. "Miranda told my mother that you used your personal connections to get the headmistress to approve the loan."

  Laura didn't know much about Tori's relationship with Miranda, but if they were communicating through their mother, she suspected they weren't too close. This came as no real surprise when Laura thought about it If being compared to the perfect Miranda had affected her life so dramatically, what would it mean to be the woman's sister?

  Just the thought diminished some of Laura's animosity toward the new reporter. "Nothing manipulative. I just asked my mom to mention it to Ms. Cecilia, then worked up a proposal."

  "You must know how the town's been buzzing ever since word got out."

  "I do."

  Tori shot her an assessing look. "You wanted the buzz for your grand opening."

  "I didn't think it would hurt."

  She pulled a thoughtful moue, as if Laura had surprised her, too. "Smooth move."

  Laura smiled in acknowledgment of the compliment, produced a card key and said, "Let's get you settled into your suite."

  "Suite, hmm? I happen to know that Benjamin stayed in a regular guest room. I know that because I wasn't aware you even had any regular rooms until he told me." She arched a skeptical brow. "Are you sucking up to me, Laura?"

  "I didn't think it would hurt."

  Tori grinned. "If nothing else, this is going to prove an interesting few weeks, don't you think?"

  Laura met her deep blue gaze, a gaze similar to Miranda's, yet strikingly different.

  And she felt a flicker of promise inside.

  She might not have withstood the test of dealing with Miranda and their history as well as she'd hoped, but here was another chance to handle things better.

  Returning Tori's smile, she said, "I do."

  Dale should have known to expect the unexpected from Laura when the men and women split up for the respective bachelor/ette parties. She had Delia's guests currently dining in the spa's garden café, a place where
Bruno created health-conscious dishes and fruit shakes laced with proteins and mineral immune-system boosters. From there they'd spend their night mud-bathing and pedicuring and enjoying whatever else women did in a spa.

  Laura had refused to tell him what she had in store for the men, but the second Dale stepped into one of the Wed-sing Wings ballrooms to find it transformed into gangster-era gentleman's club, he'd known Jackson's guests had fared much better than the ladies. A stage had been set up as the focal point of the room, complete with rich red velvet curtains, professional lighting and acoustic sound. Wingback chairs surrounded small tables, and an all-male waitstaff refreshed cocktails and food from an impressive buffet.

  Scantily clad rockette-style dancers filed onto the stage to applause and catcalls, beginning the first act of sexy skits reminiscent of Gypsy Rose Lee and the Ziegfeld Follies. Dale found the whole show an event to remember and as far as he could tell, he wasn't the only man present to think so. Laura had gone straight to the heart of male fantasies while managing not to piss off the father of the bride.

  By the time dim light illuminated the room during the first intermission, Dale was more convinced than ever that he'd do whatever it took not to let Laura get away.

  "I don't believe Laura," Tyler said to Dale and Troy, who sat with him at the table. "Where does she come up with this stuff?"

  Dale laughed over the rim of his beer glass. "I wish I knew. She's got a gift."

  "That's an understatement," Troy said. "Miranda was dying to know what she had planned for a bad bachelor party. After that scavenger hunt this afternoon, I think she was worried."

  "Speaking of—" Dale turned to Troy. "You made a good showing. Second place was nothing to shake a stick at with those riddles. I couldn't figure out what the hell she was talking about in a couple of them."

  "I hear you," Tyler agreed. "I would have been dead last if not for the bride's parents getting sidetracked while I was looking for that minidildo in the main lobby. What was up with that? Laura gave Major General Wallace a different map than the rest of us. He and his wife got lost in the offices looking at vintage photos and reading about the history of this old place."

  Dale gave an offhand shrug. "Don't have a clue, Tyler, but it's no wonder you nearly came in last. I hate to break it to you, man, but you weren't looking for a minidildo in the main lobby. It was a butt plug."

  Tyler almost choked, but Troy smiled and said, "You give my compliments to Laura. She walked a tough line with her party tonight and made the cut. Doesn't look like there's anyone in this place who's not looking forward to act two."

  "You got it."

  "There's the major general," Tyler said, shoving his chair back. "I've been trying to catch up with him to arrange a time for an interview." He strode away, leaving Dale alone with Troy.

  "So how are you and Miranda enjoying the grand opening?" Dale asked.

  "It's a lot different than the first time we were here."

  Dale couldn't tell whether this was good or bad. "I'm guessing your wife is glad her sister will be covering it. Where do you stand on the issue?"

  "She's my sister-in-law." Troy gave a shrug. "Where do you think I stand?"

  "Fair enough. Laura mentioned that she didn't want you two to feel excluded with everything focusing on the bride and groom." Putting a good word in with the reporter's brother-in-law couldn't hurt.

  "Tell her not to worry. Miranda and I were long overdue a vacation and there's a certain irony to returning to the scene of the wedding."

  Given his unsmiling expression, Troy might have been talking about the scene of the crime, but the guy seemed genuine when he said, "You tell Laura that I appreciate how decent she's been. She's gone out of her way to welcome us. I'm sure she won't hear it from Miranda."

  "I'll tell her." Dale raised his glass to his lips, drank. He recognized when opportunity knocked and decided to go for its "So what's up with that? Laura told me that she and your wife weren't friends in school, that people always compared them."

  "I suppose it makes sense. Prescott's a big name around here," Troy said, as if that explained everything.

  "This whole small-town thing is way over my head. It's like people haven't got anything better to do than nose into other people's business." As he'd learned firsthand "But tell me something, Troy. I get the part about your wife. She's news. But what's the big deal about Laura—the artist community?"

  "I'd guess the family connection."

  Family connection? Dale stared stupidly for a moment before comprehension finally dawned. "Are you saying Laura and Miranda are related?"

  "They're cousins. You didn't know?"

  Dale shook his head. "Distant cousins?"

  "First cousins as in their mothers are sisters. It's no deep dark secret Senator Prescott isn't allowed secrets. Neither is his family."

  There was subtext in that statement but Dale couldn't dwell on how being related to a senator might affect a family. Not while still absorbing the fact that Laura was also affected and that she hadn't told him something so simple, and important, about herself.

  Dale didn't have to wonder why.

  He hadn't earned the right to be trusted with her truths. She expected no more than a fling with him and as she'd said last night, she didn't want to break the rules.

  "Any idea what's between them?" he asked.

  "Not really. Whatever happened took place a long time before I came into the picture. Miranda has only said that Laura's mother ran off with someone the senator didn't approve of. Laura's father, I think."

  Dale nodded. "Sounds a little extreme but like you said, this all happened a long time ago. Sure explains why people would compare her to Miranda, though."

  Troy frowned. "Yeah, well, all I can tell you is don't be so quick to judge. Laura gets off a lot easier than my wife does. There are a lot of expectations in the family. Laura's exempt by default, and most of the time Victoria refuses to step up to the plate. All the pressure to put on a good show falls on Miranda."

  "I don't know enough about the situation to form opinions."

  But that would change soon enough. There was a lot more happening with Laura's family than she'd told him and until she decided to share…which wouldn't happen until he proved himself more than a fling.

  With that goal in mind, Dale sat through the second act, not enjoying this half of the show, but formulating a plan of action. Discovering this piece of the puzzle helped him fill in the blanks about what Laura had told him last night.

  He understood why she would be so inclined to prove herself to Miranda, and to protect her parents from people who viewed them as a cut below Senator Prescott.

  The situation was ironic, really. Here he'd been scrambling around for chances to prove he could rise above his press and be more than arm candy for the Naughty Nuptials. But that wasn't the only thing he needed to prove. Dale needed to make Laura understand that he wasn't one of the people she'd grown up with who were fascinated with why Senator Prescott had disowned his eldest daughter and her family.

  The only person he was fascinated with was Laura, and she had nothing to prove to him.

  Dale was in so far over his head here that he couldn't help laughing. Peering up at the stage at a group of beauties who would have once enthralled him, he was now so preoccupied with a certain blonde he'd barely noticed them.

  Dale thought he understood why so many folks ran when love found them.

  But by the time the bachelors finally disbanded, he had the start of a plan, and swinging by the front desk, he penned a note to Annabelle that began:

  Hey, gorgeous, I need your help…

  "What do you mean you're kidnapping me?" Laura asked. "I can't leave the inn."

  Dale had clearly lost his mind or somehow warped ahead a few weeks into the future after the Naughty Nuptials had ended Yet he stood beside her in this elevator, looking so good in his custom-made suit that hinted at all the sculpted muscle below.

  Leave the inn? She wasn'
t sure she wanted to push her luck that far. She'd survived the bachelorette party and staff interviews with Tori last night and a personal tour of the property this morning.

  "Wear the blue dress you wore to dinner the night I came to town," he said. "You promised to wear it so I could slide my hands under all that lace. I'll be able to drive and feel you up as long as you navigate."

  "Navigate where?"

  "It's a surprise."

  "What about the arrangements for the dinner tonight?"

  "You've taken care of everything." He scowled. "All the staff has to do is pull the room together, Laura, and I think they can do their jobs without you standing over them. We've got a luncheon engagement We'll be back in plenty of time for you to check the room setup and get dressed for dinner."

  "A luncheon engagement? Where?"

  He whipped out an envelope from his jacket pocket. "With some folks I want to meet."

  Laura slipped a finger through the seam, recognized stationary from her own private stock—the very same she'd used for his invitation to the Castaway Honeymoon Isle. "Been making yourself at home in my office again, I see."

  He nodded, unrepentant as she scanned the invitation.

  You are cordially invited to dine at the Niagara River Artist Retreat Russ and Suzanne Granger, hosts.

  "My parents are hosting a luncheon?"

  He depressed the emergency button, and Laura grabbed on to him as the elevator jerked to a stop. He only smiled, plucked the invitation from her and slipped it back into his pocket.

  Now it was her turn to scowl. "If you keep hitting that emergency button, people will think your company does terrible work. A brand-new elevator shouldn't break down like this."

  He looked much more interested in her than his company's reputation. Slipping his hands inside her jacket, he skimmed his palms down her ribs.

  "I want to meet your parents," he told her. "And I want to get you away from the inn for a breather before the wedding." He rested his cheek on the top of her head, inhaled deeply.