Читать книгу Run for Covers - Jeanie London, Jeanie London - Страница 9

TORI SLIPPED INTO the seat that the namesake of Bruno’s Place held for her. “I’m being seated to breakfast by a five-star chef. Is this VIP treatment for your local reporter or do you usually seat all your guests on Sunday mornings?”

“The VIP treatment, of course. If I played waiter too often, I’d have no time to cook, and that would be a crime,” the burly chef said with a grin. “You’re in my world now, Ms. Ford, and I take my press seriously.”

“Is that how you manage to keep in our food critic’s good graces? She’s known to be tough, yet you manage to stay on her top shelf week after week.”

“No mystery there. Your food critic is tough, but she’s good. She recognizes I’m that good.”

With a laugh, Tori accepted the napkin he handed her. She appreciated honesty, preferring to know where she stood with people, good, bad or otherwise. And Bruno, a chef who was that good, would shine when his turn for an interview rolled around—as long as he continued to shoot straight with her.

This morning, however, he was off the hook. She had a breakfast interview with the infamous bedding consultant, who, Tori glanced at her watch as she accepted a menu, would be tardy in a mere two minutes.

“I want you to read through my dishes and pick whatever your little heart desires,” he said. “If you want something special, I’ll whip it up.”

“Why, Bruno, you really are sucking up to me.” She couldn’t help but wish Adam Grant would be as accommodating. The thought of that hot man satisfying her every desire… Mm-mm.

“Of course I’m sucking up to you, Ms. Ford.” The burly man with the balding head gave a hearty laugh. “The way to my success is through your stomach.”

And he was off to a good start as he poured her a cup of much-needed coffee, explaining his specialties and otherwise entertaining her until the bedding consultant appeared at the hostess station with barely a minute to spare.

With her white-blond hair and blue eyes, Laura Granger wasn’t only beautiful, but striking in a runway-model sort of way. Tall and slim, both features leant her a gracefulness as she wound her way through the tables, greeting guests and staff.

Tori couldn’t help but remember how pea-green her older sister used to get about Laura while they’d been attending school at Westfalls Academy. While she’d been a few years behind them, she’d been privy to her sister’s feelings on visits home.

As an adult—and an adult who made her living observing people and looking for stories—the situation made more sense. People in this town tended to compare her sister, Miranda, with Laura because of the connection between their two families.

But meeting Laura up close and personal convinced Tori that although both women were the same age, they couldn’t have been more different if they’d tried.

Miranda was delicate and dark. Laura was taller and fair. Miranda had always been social and popular, Laura the shy outcast. Miranda excelled at whatever she did. Except for dance class at Westfalls, where Laura had stolen the spotlight.

Boy, could Laura Granger dance. Tori remembered how she’d get out on that big stage in Marshall Hall and wow the audience. Like Bruno in the kitchen, Laura had been that good. Tori wondered if she hadn’t turned professional because her family couldn’t afford to train her.

But Laura seemed to have found her niche at Falling Inn Bed. It wasn’t every day that a hotel wedding coordinator had the Worldwide Travel Association send a photojournalist like Tyler Tripp. Then again, Laura wasn’t an ordinary wedding consultant by any stretch; she was the one and only bedding consultant.

She marched to her own beat, while Miranda maintained the status quo at all costs. And Tori knew those costs were high.

She watched as Laura kissed Bruno’s cheek when he told her he’d send along a waiter with espresso. Then she slipped into the chair across the table and told him they’d need some time before ordering.

“That’ll work for you, Tori?” Laura asked.

“As long as the coffee keeps coming.”

“It won’t get a chance to cool,” Bruno promised before strolling away, looking remarkably like a bull in a china shop among the turn-of-the-last-century antique tables and glassware.

Tori sipped her coffee, curious to gauge Laura’s attitude to their first interview. They’d spoken since her arrival on the property, of course. Laura had even given her a tour of the new Wedding Wing. But today they were going to get personal and, with a family history like theirs, that was saying a bunch.

“Well, who’d have ever guessed that we’d be sitting together with only a few feet of table between us?” Tori said.

“Not in my wildest dreams.” Laura smiled, and up close, her looks were even more striking.

Okay, maybe Tori should have been more sympathetic to Miranda’s plight—she certainly wouldn’t want to be compared to Laura Granger and her incredible good looks.

“So you were worried I was going to be biased,” Tori said.

“Adam told you that?”

“I asked. I figured he’d have denied it if he could have.”

“At first, perhaps,” she admitted. “But you promised you wouldn’t trash the Naughty Nuptials because of our family history, so I took you at your word. I also told everyone to take exceptional care of you or we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Tori thought of Bruno and smiled. “So I heard. Why don’t you mention it to Adam.”

Laura arched an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“Not really. He’s very…professional.” Too professional. “So what did you tell him about me?”

She needed to know everything she could to help this man have a little fun.

“Nothing more than the overview of our family history that I shared with all my co-workers. When I found out you were taking over our press. I didn’t want them to be sandbagged either way.”

“How is it they never heard about the rift between our families? I thought we were legend around Niagara Falls.”

Laura smiled then greeted the approaching waiter. Accepting the steaming mug, she sipped appreciatively. “None of them come from around here. Think of the inn’s management staff like a traveling circus troupe. My boss picked them up at the different properties she’s managed throughout her career. Our maintenance supervisor has been with her for over twenty years at five different properties.”

“That sort of loyalty is unusual, and impressive.”

“Ms. J is an impressive woman.”

“Okay, so official interview time.” Reaching into her bag and grabbing her voice-activated recorder, Tori plunked it on the table and got to business. “For the record, what makes this hotel so special?”

“Falling Inn Bed is a place where couples can focus on romance. We’re not a singles-type of resort, where men go to meet women or vice versa. We’re a place that helps our couples focus on what’s important—making the most of being in love.”

“That’s spin.”

“It’s true.”

Impressed that Laura didn’t hesitate to measure her words, Tori decided that the media-handling skills so rampant on her mother’s side of the family weren’t necessarily a side effect of living with politicians.

“Since none of this is in your promotional brochure, I’ll take you at your word. You have a very romantic view of what you do around here.”

Laura laughed. “I’ve been accused of being a romantic idealist.”

“Really?” Romantic idealism had to come from somewhere and discovering where might be an important key to understanding the whole picture of the bedding consultant. “I imagine romantic idealism serves you very well on this job.”

“Especially with the Wedding Wing. I create fantasies for my newlyweds. Each one’s as individual as the couple itself.”

“I’ve heard about some of the fantasies you create. What I caught of your Wild, Wild Weddings campaign last week was impressive. The Sex Toy Shower. The Bad Bachelor/ette Parties. The Racy Rehearsal Dinner. Neat stuff. I’m sure your honorary bridal couple was impressed with the fantasy you created for them. Speaking of, what honeymoon suite did they spend their wedding night in?”

“The Shangri-la Paradise.”

“Sounds romantic. I lucked out with the Wedding Knight Suite. All those bondage goodies to play with.” The potential for fun was endless. If she could get Adam to play.

Laura smiled, looking quite pleased. “The Wedding Wing has a suite for every fantasy.”

“So who came up with these ideas?”

“I did. My parents helped me conceptualize them, though, and you’ve met our architect, Dale Emerson. He and his company made everything a reality.”

“Dale Emerson, your date.”

She nodded and Tori noted a hint of color rise in her cheeks. “Yes, he’s that, too.”

“He’s a lot more, from what I hear. I’ve got connections downtown, and I heard his firm pulled applications from the licensing department. Is he opening offices in town?”

Laura reached forward and turned the recorder off. She looked so serious that Tori’s reporter’s instincts went wild.

“If you want to discuss Dale,” she said, “it’ll have to be off the record. And I would like to know why you’re interested in my personal life. You’re covering the grand opening.”

“But my slant is you, and what you’re doing here. Tyler can go mainstream with his documentary, but I need to appeal to my readers. There’s a local angle here that’ll launch my story into the major leagues. I won’t pass it up.”

“Our family history.”

“The Fords and the Grangers together for the first time since Westfalls. Not to mention a romance resort in town that our conservative grandfather has been curiously silent about.”

“He’s not our grandfather. He might technically be my mother’s father, but I’ve never met the man. As far as your grandfather’s concerned, I don’t exist.”

Tori considered that for a moment to decide on her line of questioning. The history between their families was as much a draw around here as erotic artist Mireille Marceaux was a mystery. Their family connection was another card in her hand that she could play to make her coverage something special, and since she intended to capitalize on this local angle, it wouldn’t hurt to get Laura’s read on the whole deal.

“I don’t think that’s entirely true,” she said. “Our grandfather has acknowledged you.”

“How?”

“By his silence.”

Laura narrowed her crystal blue gaze. “The senator hasn’t been silent. He made a statement a long time ago.”

Tori shook her head. “The senator talked around you. He spouted stuff about supporting values of traditional couples and businesses that bring tourist dollars into our local economy. But that’s not endorsing a romance resort. He didn’t criticize it, either, and people noticed. I’m the municipal reporter in this town. I hear the gossip on my beat.”

“The senator didn’t attend Miranda’s wedding,” Laura pointed out. “I assumed that meant he didn’t want people to mistakenly think he was in contact with a Granger.”

“Grandfather didn’t attend Miranda’s wedding because the Senate got called into special session. He’d planned to come.”

Laura set her cup on the table and sat back in her chair, looking disbelieving. “Are you saying you think my involvement here might have something to do with him not taking a stand against the inn?”

“I think it’s possible. Think about it, Laura. You might be spinning sex from the romance angle, but you’re still spinning sex. There’s a reason he’s handling this inn the way he is, and I think you’re it.”

Tori didn’t give her a chance to think about the implications of that statement. She’d planted the seed and that was enough for now. Hopefully, the seed would take root, and Laura would want to talk some more about their family history. Until then, though, Tori had an opportunity to steer the conversation in another direction.

“So tell me, if your date is pulling permits to open an office in town, do I assume that means Falling Inn Bed has worked its magic on you and Dale Emerson?”

Laura’s careful expression melted away, and she got a soft look in her eyes. “Dale says the magic’s contagious, and no one who walks through our doors is exempt. Not our featured bridal couple. Not even the bedding consultant or the man who built the Wedding Wing.”

“Contagious, hm? Now that’s a theory I haven’t heard about.”

But it was one that had promise. Tori could use all the help she could get in her quest to get Adam to enjoy the grand opening celebration. And when Laura waxed poetic about marriage proposals on construction sites and falling in love with her handsome architect, Tori thought she might just stand a chance at helping the hunky assistant GM catch some magic.

ADAM HADN’T STOPPED running since he’d opened his eyes this morning, though Laura had left Sunday a free day in their Naughty Nuptials schedule to give their newlyweds a chance to rest after the excitement of the wedding day. Guests had been checking out all morning, while the inn staff had been regrouping for the week of Risqué Receptions events ahead.

Adam had been looking forward to working out and a break from Tori Ford, but instead had found himself cleverly roped into giving her a tour of the hotel when he caught up with her midmorning at Bruno’s place.

In the time since he’d last seen her, Adam had mentally reviewed all the reasons why he didn’t want to involve himself with a woman who believed in fun for fun’s sake, no matter how much his body urged him otherwise. He believed this little exercise had done the trick.

That was, of course, until he’d set eyes on her in a sundress that left her shoulders bare and too much cleavage swelling above the bodice. With red waves bouncing down her back as she moved past the hostess station, Adam had to admit that discipline wasn’t holding up in the face of the woman herself. Not when she caught sight of him, and her expression lit up. His pulse took a huge leap in tempo.

Steeling his spine, he forced a smile and asked, “How did your interview with Laura go?”

Slipping her arm through his, she moved close enough to accelerate his pulse a few more beats. “Great, thanks, but I’m stuffed. Remind me to stay out of this restaurant, or your chef will do some serious damage. I don’t want to have to go shopping for bigger sized clothes.”

Adam raked his gaze over her slim curves before he could stop himself and gave a short laugh. Nothing but perfection there. “Never fear, Ms. Ford. The spa’s cardiovascular schedule runs seven days a week.”

“Great minds and all that, Adam.” She tipped her head back to smile up at him and heaved a giant sigh that did amazing things to that swell of cleavage. “I’ll bet we could burn off lots of calories together.”

“Shall we go on a tour? Laura told me she took you through the Wedding Wing, but you haven’t seen the main hotel yet. I’ll be happy to show you.”

She pursed her lips in an exasperated moue, and he was pleased to sidestep at least one indecent proposal today.

“Thank you,” she said.

He directed her out onto the promenade. “I’m actually surprised Laura didn’t tour you around the whole property when you first arrived.”

“Oh, she offered, but I only let her show me the Wedding Wing. That’s her cupcake, after all.” Tori’s big blue eyes sparkled. “But I’m dying to see the original hotel, though. My sister and her husband stayed in the Roman Bagnio on their wedding night and to hear Troy tell it, he’d have enjoyed spending a few more nights there before flying off to Hawaii for their honeymoon. Think you can arrange to tour me through any of the inn’s original suites?”

Sure he could, but did he really want to be alone with her in suites with names like the Victorian Bordello, Sultan’s Seraglio and Demimondaine’s Boudoir?

No, yet he couldn’t help but be impressed at how neatly she twisted the situation around to corner him. Strategy he could respect, even when it meant postponing his workout even longer.

The woman was clever, he’d definitely give her that.

“I haven’t reviewed the audit reports yet, Ms. Ford, but we ran close to full occupancy last night. Seeing a suite might not be possible.”

“Today’s Sunday, and checkout was at noon. Surely some guests will have left by now. Can’t you slip me in for a peek?”

“Housekeeping’s scheduled after checkout.”

With her arm still locked through his, she tugged him around so they were headed back in the direction of the front desk. “Just check, please. For me.”

No wheedling, yet even so, Adam marveled at the way she managed to turn everything back around to what she wanted.

To be alone with him.

“I’ll check.” If only for a moment to put some distance between them and regain control of his pulse.

A trip behind the front desk almost did the trick until he found two suites recently vacated—the Red Light District and the Wild West Brothel. He considered claiming that none were available, but Adam wouldn’t lie—not even to spare himself a visit with this woman to the Red Light District, complete with spotlight, stage and chair suitable for a sexy lap dance.

“We’ll tour the Wild West Brothel.”

With any luck, the historically themed furnishings would distract this woman from the overt sexuality of the suite.

Then again, Adam wouldn’t get his hopes up. Not when Tori beamed at him across the counter and said, “Ride ’em, cowboy,” then led him up to the fifth floor herself.

“You’re familiar with the layout of the inn, I see,” he said dryly when she brought him right to the door with the appropriate shiny gold nameplate.

She gave a casual shrug that drew his gaze yet again to the red waves spilling over her shoulders and the delicate curve of her throat. “Wouldn’t be much of a reporter if I couldn’t find my way around without help.”

“No argument there.” He’d never met a more determined woman and he still had the memory of her in that see-through robe burned in his brain to prove it. Withdrawing his master keycard, he inserted it into the mechanism, unlocked the door and stepped inside to hold the door for his curious reporter.

Tori smiled up at him as she walked past and said, “Was that a compliment or a criticism, Adam?”

“A compliment, of course.” He injected some sincerity into his voice as the door shut with an absurd note of finality.

“Wouldn’t do to criticize the reporter responsible for your reviews, hm?”

He didn’t get a chance to reply before she came to an abrupt stop in the foyer and laughed. “Oh, my. Look at this place. This is as incredible as the Wedding Knight Suite. Not as elaborate, but, still, very impressive.”

Stepping inside this suite always made Adam feel as if he were walking onto the set of a John Wayne western. A bar served as the dining area and a long mirror mounted with steer horns graced the wall above. Walls paneled in rustic wood bore vintage posters of lustful couples for a welcoming bunkhouse look.

All the furniture had been scaled in size for two, and the leather sex swing hanging from the ceiling was the focal point of the room. Adam knew the bedroom was set up with a wax warmer and specialty sheet set, so guests could engage in sexy branding.

Tori’s observation skills were clearly on because there were indeed differences between this romance-themed suite, which had been fashioned to accommodate the original hotel structure, and those designed for the new Wedding Wing. Building from the ground up had given Laura and Dale the chance to create suites on a grand scale.

Creating fantasies, he’d heard Laura call it.

Which made Adam wonder—not for the first time—why he’d been so completely unprepared for the way sex affected the management around here. He’d researched Falling Inn Bed thoroughly before interviewing for the position. He’d seen all the press and had even toured the property. Yet he’d still not fully understood that the inn’s sexy theme would change the requirements and attitudes for upper management.

In his mind, all properties had qualities targeting specific clienteles, but just because a hotel catered to an island vacation crowd didn’t mean management worked in beachwear.

Maybe he’d just been too eager for a chance to become a stockholder in the Falling Inn Corporation. Or maybe he’d been so intent on leaving Seattle after his broken engagement that he hadn’t paid close enough attention to what was really taking place at this inn.

And as he watched the sex-crazed reporter inspect the romance-themed suite, Adam couldn’t help but think that his oversight in assessing the management—whatever the reason—was directly responsible for Tori Ford becoming the top item on his agenda.

“Did Laura design these suites, too?” she asked.

“Not to my knowledge. If memory serves, she came on the scene after Ms. J and her staff had acquired the property. Laura did tell me these suites inspired the ones in the Wedding Wing.”

“Even bigger and better fantasies. Mm-mm.” She took off into the bedroom, where he knew she’d find a bed with the Rope ’Em and Ride ’Em specialty sheets—complete with custom pockets filled with sex toys—and the bathroom that boasted a garden spa for couples.

Leaning against the bar, Adam passed on this part of the tour. No doubt Tori would use their close proximity to a bed to get a reaction from him, and he’d rather not give her another opportunity to play her game.

She didn’t need his help. She was getting enough of a reaction by doing nothing more than crossing the room to peer out the windows that overlooked the forested park leading to the Falls. The noon sun threw her into sharp relief, and Adam imagined he could see the faint outline of her body through her sundress. The memory of all those luscious curves from yesterday’s performance still burned too hot in his brain.

And then she scooted into the swing. The supple leather seat molded her shapely bottom as she started up another show…this time, one that prompted thoughts of what she’d feel like with her legs wrapped around him, weightless…

She pushed off, and her long bare legs stretched out as she rode backward in a smooth glide. Her body arced with the motion, her hair spilling out behind her, treating Adam to an image of what she might look like spread out horizontally for that calorie-burning exercise she’d mentioned earlier.

One of her sandals slipped off, clattering onto the wooden floor and drawing his gaze to the neatly manicured toes in some shade of ultrafeminine pink. She laughed, a carefree sound that contrasted sharply with the tension coiling tight inside him as his blood rushed hard in a direction in which it shouldn’t be rushing.

“This is a wonderful suite. Sex swings and those sheets.” She gave a low whistle. “I thought the set in my suite was wild. Have you ever played with restraints and warm wax, Adam?”

“No, Ms. Ford. I haven’t.”

She leaned back for another glide, this time arching her breasts high as the swing carried her backward. “Neither have I. Sounds like it might be fun.” The innuendo was in there and being the bold woman she was, Tori glanced at him with a smile just to make sure he was watching.

Adam was watching, all right. And reacting.

He’d have to be dead not to react to this woman, and he was very alive, as was his libido, which he’d obviously ignored for way too long.

She must have recognized his struggle because she slipped out of the swing, collected her sandal and headed his way, all sultry smiles and sexy purpose.

Adam stood his ground, refusing any show of weakness, not even a simple step backward when she sauntered right up to him and took over his personal space.

Sliding her fingers around his tie, she loosened the knot with a few easy motions and said, “Don’t you ever want to take a deep breath, Adam?”

“I can breathe just fine, Ms. Ford.”

Lifting that midnight gaze, she searched his expression, a slight frown creasing her brow at what she found there. “Let me tell you a secret. My family comes with a lot of baggage. Not only our history with Laura’s family, but a lot of visibility because my father and grandfather are politicians. It was all too easy to be sucked into trying to behave the way everyone expected me to behave.”

“What are you saying, Ms. Ford?”

“That I was like you once, Adam.” A soft smile touched her lips. “Surprise, surprise. I was all wrapped up in things that were keeping me from enjoying what was important in life.”

This was insight he hadn’t expected about her, and Adam wondered what had happened to make her turn that corner in her life. To transform from a woman of perfect decorum like her sister to this carefree spirit who only seemed focused on fun.

“You don’t know me, Ms. Ford. It’s presumptuous for you to think you know what I should find important in life.”

“That’s true. I don’t know you. But I know what I see. You’ve got a celebration happening in a hotel filled with sexy suites and a woman you share some serious chemistry with. Yet you shut yourself off to the possibilities the instant you realized you were attracted to me.”

To Adam’s profound annoyance, he couldn’t deny her claim, which left him to accept the hard reality. This woman had gotten under his skin no matter how much he had willed it otherwise.