by Jo Leigh
“Despite what Piper believes, I don’t want to see her fail, Trace. I know I can depend on you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nicholas hung up, and Trace turned off his cell. He moved the cat to the center of his lap. He had no illusions about what Nicholas wanted him to do. Use his past with Piper to influence her. He wondered what the old man would think if he found out that his influence was being exerted in his daughter’s bed.
He still couldn’t believe she was naive enough to think sleeping with her would change anything. The hotel was going to belong to Devon no matter what. Nicholas wouldn’t have it any other way. The best thing Trace could do for Piper would be to give her an out. A chance to cover her losses before the papers turned her into a laughingstock. Before she lost everything.
He thought about last night. Shit, it had been amazing. The most thrilling night he could ever remember. Which meant that he couldn’t possibly risk doing it again. He’d never been a man to put anything, let alone sex, before business, but when he’d been in her last night, he’d have signed away his life. Foolish and dangerous. He couldn’t let her get too close, no matter what she did to him. Nicholas trusted him to straighten Piper out. Which is exactly what he would do.
There were a lot of things right about Hush, and she could even continue to have some of the X-rated extras, if she acted now. Which is what he intended to emphasize at the PR meeting. If Piper decided to return. And take this damn cat.
The feline in question had curled into a small black ball, which would have been a relief if she wasn’t purring so loudly. How could something so tiny be so noisy? And messy?
He lifted the cat, trying hard not to get her riled up, and walked her over to the bed. She blinked up at him, lifting her head from the curve of her paws.
“Don’t even start,” he said.
The cat meowed.
“Uh-uh—” He pointed, giving her his don’t-screw-with-me face.
Completely unfazed, the cat stretched, pushing her rump up in the air.
“I’ve known women like you,” he said, “and it won’t work on me. So either you sit down right now, or it’s out in the hall.”
Eartha blinked, turned her rump to his face and sat again.
“I can see why Piper likes you.”
He headed for the bathroom to try and clean his jacket again, but a knock stopped him.
He opened the door, and was blindsided once more by Piper’s beauty. She’d always affected him, but now it was like a physical blow. Jesus.
He forced himself to get his mind out of his pants. She was a beautiful woman. He’d always known that. She made it seem effortless, as if she’d dashed out of bed, thrown on the nearest designer duds and headed out the door. He knew that wasn’t so. She’d learned from the best how to look that way. The finest hairdressers, experts in makeup and style. She was always ready for her close-up. Which made him wonder why she let those tabloids catch her at her worst.
“How is she?”
“Shedding,” he said, pointing to the fur ball on the bed.
Piper brushed by him and scooped the cat into her arms. Thank goodness she wasn’t one of those baby talkers. That would have been beyond the pale. As it was, she spoke to Eartha as if to a friend, something she’d never done with him.
“We’re going to be late.”
“I need to drop her off at the spa. I’ll meet you in my office,” she said, hardly looking his way.
Anger flooded his body, and he wasn’t exactly sure why, except that it was Piper. He grabbed his briefcase, thought about his clothes brush, but dismissed it. Maybe he could talk to her PR people before she got there, convince them that there could be significant benefits to seeing his point of view.
They both reached the door at the same time, and her scent, subtle and sensuous, hit him hard. He stepped back and she gave him a small smile. Which turned into a larger smile as she continued to pet the cat.
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“I had no choice.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
He cleared his throat, moved away from her. “Don’t fret, Piper. I’m still the same bastard I was yesterday.”
He watched as the smile vanished, as the tenuous connection that had been there a second ago snapped apart. Which was the point of the comment. What he hadn’t figured on was wanting to take it back.
8
MEMORANDUM
To: Staff
From: Janice Foster, General Manager, HUSH Hotel
Date: Sunday
Re: Pool
Ms. Devon will be entertaining in the pool area this evening. It will be OFF-LIMITS to all staff after 8:00 p.m. Please have all food, wine and music in place by 7:45. No waitstaff should remain!
To: Clarissa
Please have the flowers we discussed in place by 7:30.
To: Room Service and Housekeeping
Please complete turndown service in the Pop Suite by 8:00 p.m. Make sure to pick up the music selections from my office before going to the suite. Please make sure the champagne is in the Pop Suite by 9:30 p.m. Well Chilled!!!
TRACE HEADED DOWN to the lower-level offices, thinking about his conversation with Nicholas. The old man was a master manipulator, and he never hesitated to use emotional blackmail to get what he wanted. Trace had never had qualms about doing the same, so why was he hesitant about using what he knew about Piper’s vulnerabilities to get her to change the motif of the hotel? In the long run, she’d be better off. She’d have a legitimate success on her hands, and she’d have all that money to pursue whatever crazy schemes she wanted. And yet, there was something about this project that put a fire in her eyes. Even he had to admit that she’d done a good job. Hush was as nice as any Devon hotel. If it weren’t for the sex business.
Of course there was more of the hotel for him to see, but he doubted there would be serious issues. Again, it was the emphasis on sex that skewed everything.
He’d take a quick glance at Exhibit A, the bar downstairs. Piper called it a sofa bar. There was a stage and a circular lounge. Sofas, private booths, liquor, candles. And on that stage? Naked people. Dancing. At least he hoped it was just dancing.
He tried to picture what it would be like, but his imagination wasn’t up to the task. Or perhaps it was too vivid. It had to be illegal for people to have sex on stage, and Piper wasn’t going to risk the hotel over something like that. But was it illegal for those watching the show to go for it right there?
He got out of the elevator and made his way to Piper’s office. It was all he could do to bring his focus back to the matter at hand. The PR people were waiting, as was Angela. She showed him to the conference room. He wasted no time.
After brief introductions he put his briefcase on the table and faced Kit Prescott, who was Piper’s in-house head of PR and the outside team of Tami Bressler and Alison Fife, all of whom were young and the epitome of New York chic. “Piper Devon hired you,” he said, “but I’m the one who holds the power. And if you want to keep this account, I suggest you listen very carefully to what I have to say.”
PIPER LEFT the spa, pleased that Eartha Kitty was in such good hands. Her pet concierge would be there in an hour. Her name was Ruth Gaylor, and she was perfect. She loved animals, had taken care of them all her life, and she was thrilled at the opportunity to make Hush a welcome home to all the pets her guests would bring. At the moment, she was shopping, buying all kinds of wonderful beds and toys and treats to stock the pet suite, and in the next couple of days everything would be in place. She was even going to train her assistants in the art of pet massage. No expense was being spared, because Piper knew from experience that her clientele didn’t just like their pets, they worshipped them.
It said a great deal that while Hush provided referrals to babysitters, there had been no requests made by any of the booked guests. But over a dozen were paying the extra fee for pet services.
Piper knew this town, knew the kind of p
eople who would stay at Hush. Rich, pampered, and always seeking the next thrill. And what could be more thrilling than decadent sex? It was the one constant, the thing that never went out of style.
And wherever there were celebrities and sex, there would be fascination. Enough to keep the hotel alive in the press for years to come. Although she fully intended to keep the paparazzi away, stories would leak, people would talk. They always did. So why the hell not use it to her advantage? She’d been followed by the tabloid jackals since the day she was born. It was time for them to give something back.
She glanced at her watch. She’d left Trace alone with her PR people too long, and she hurried to the conference room. As she walked in, the conversation came to an abrupt halt. Kit, Tami and Alison looked right at her, and Piper knew instantly Trace had done something underhanded. The women looked guilty as sin, and Tami was even blushing. Trace didn’t bother to look up. Even so, there was something smug in his passive expression.
“Would you ladies excuse us for a few moments?” Piper asked.
The team left with alarming speed.
“All right. What did you say to them?”
“Nothing I haven’t said to you.”
She sat down across from him. “You told them to ignore the sex angle.”
“I did.”
“It’s my hotel, Trace. Not yours. Not my father’s.”
“The sex angle is going to kill your hotel.”
She took deep breaths, unwilling to show him how furious she was. But she had to put her hands on her lap so he wouldn’t see her shake. “Okay, I was willing to try this. I even believed you when you said you’d give me a week. I think we both realize that was a blatant lie. The bottom line is, I’m not going to change into someone else, Trace, and I’m not going to give in on the hotel. So why don’t you go upstairs, pack your bags and go tell Daddy that the trial is officially over.” She stood, headed for the door.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Trace said as he grabbed her arm. “I’m trying to help you here.”
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to manipulate me.”
“Oh, and you’re not?”
She wanted to deny it, but they both knew he was right. “I kept my part of the bargain.”
He looked at his hand on her arm, and pulled away as if he’d been burnt. Then his gaze moved to hers, and his expression changed into something she didn’t recognize. “Why did you decide to build a hotel?”
The question threw her. “What?”
“You could have done anything with the money you got on your twenty-fifth birthday. Anything that would have made money. Stocks, land development, fine art investment. Anything.”
“I know hotels. Remember? Daughter of Nicholas Devon?”
“Exactly. You chose to compete with him. Why is that?”
“So now you’re psychoanalyzing me? Don’t even.”
“Come on, Piper. You built a hotel in the city where your father is the king of hotels. You agreed to the terms. You knew full well that Nicholas would be appalled at the sex angle, so that’s what you went for, full throttle.”
“And your point is?”
“I don’t believe you’re seeing clearly. I think you’re so busy subconsciously trying to rebel against your father that you don’t know the mistake you’re making.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
“What I offered you yesterday wasn’t just a way to get you into bed or to manipulate you with sex. I meant it with all my heart. You can’t see Hush the way I do because you’re looking through the eyes of Nicholas Devon. Give my way a chance.”
“Why should I, when you’re not giving me the same courtesy?”
“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Do you mean that?”
She nodded. “I’ll be as open as I can be. And if I’m wrong, I’ll admit it. I just don’t know what I can do to prove it.”
“Sit down with me and go over my ideas for the hotel.”
“To make it into a Devon?”
“A compromise.”
She stood up, walked over to the credenza and poured herself a glass of water. She was in no rush to drink it as she thought about his proposition. Basically, she had to accept. But she seriously doubted she could be open enough to listen to what Trace had to say. He wanted to take away the very thing that made Hush her hotel. He wanted to make it something other, something bland, like every other Devon hotel, and the thought made her sick to her stomach.
But how could she ask him to be open to her if she couldn’t reciprocate?
She turned. “All right. I can’t promise to agree with you, but I’ll do my very best to listen with an open mind.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
“Are you willing to do the same?”
He didn’t answer her for a while. He stared at the painting on the wall behind her, his forehead creased, a slight frown curving his lips. “As long as we’re putting it all out on the table….” He stood up, went over to her and sat back on the credenza, his gaze unflinching as he stared into her eyes. “Last night was remarkable. I was…” He shook his head. “I want a repeat performance very much. But I’m not sure that’s the best way for us to approach this.”
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“Not a one.”
“So?”
“So why don’t we ask the ladies to come back in. We’ll go over what I told them, and then you take it from there. Our first foray into the world of compromise.”
“And tonight?”
“Tonight, you can show me why lovers will be beating down your doors.” He stuck out his hand.
She nodded. It was a start. Maybe she’d win and maybe she’d lose, but she truly believed Trace was going to try. And dammit, so would she. She put her hand in his.
The touch was meant to be all business. But they both knew that their particular business had a hell of a lot to do with pleasure. “This is weird.”
“Very.”
“But not…horrible.”
He grinned. It made him look so much younger than his thirty-eight years. “You make me blush, Ms. Devon.”
“It’s my job.”
“So I’ve gathered.”
She realized her hand was still in his, and suddenly it was she who was blushing. She slipped away. “I’ll go get them.”
He cleared his throat, which made her smile. But when they all sat down, she felt oddly energized. Willing. Anxious for the day to end and for night to come.
AT SIX-FIFTEEN, they were finished with their meetings. Trace was in his suite, debating his next move. He and Piper had gone their separate ways an hour ago, and he wasn’t sure if she was finished with the concierge meeting or not. But he wanted dinner and he wanted it with her.
He pulled out his cell and dialed hers. It rang four times and he got her voice mail. “Hey, it’s Trace. Call me when you’re done. I’m going to the gym. I thought we might go out for a bite.”
He hung up, surprised that once he’d mentioned the gym the idea appealed so strongly. He’d been too stationary today, meeting after meeting. Lunch had been heavy, and he needed to move.
It didn’t take him long to get ready, and then he was off, hoping he’d have the place to himself. He passed a couple of employees in the hallway, but the workout room was his.
He stretched for a while, thinking about what they’d accomplished today. He had to admit, Piper had been a lot more reasonable than he’d expected. She’d listened to him, and hadn’t automatically cut his ideas to shreds. She hadn’t rolled over, either. They’d discussed. Okay, argued. But it was reasonable. Thoughtful, even. Who’d have thought?
Not him. Between last night and today, a lot of things had changed. Mostly, his perception of a woman he’d known for so long that he’d thought he had her figured out. But he hadn’t. Not really. She’d surprised him over and over.
He went to the treadmill and set it up to his specifications. It took
his concentration for a few minutes, and then he went into automatic pilot. Of course, his thoughts returned to Piper.
How much did he really know about her? That she was a Devon, that she had a wild streak in her a mile wide. That she loved and hated her father. That she was much smarter than he’d imagined. And why would he think of her as smart? Whenever he heard about her it was for some stupid stunt. She’d embarrassed herself on several continents. Yeah, she’d done well in school, but frankly, he’d assumed that was all favoritism.
Her performance today had shown him there was actually a cunning brain at work. Which really just confirmed a secret hope. She’d built this hotel, for God’s sake, and if she’d get with the program it would be a tremendous asset.
So why, if she was this bright, this savvy, had she hooked up with a loser like Logan Barrister? It wasn’t that he was the exception, but the rule. She’d always been with flashy, stupid men. Musicians, actors, models. Good-looking men who couldn’t scratch their own asses without cue cards.
She was better than that, better than what the tabloids made of her. But then, maybe she was holding back that wild side until the hotel was open. Angela had told him Logan’s band would be coming to New York next month, so maybe the fireworks would fly then.
He just wished he understood her.
Oh well, it didn’t matter as long as he did his job. If Piper could come out of it with a successful hotel and her inheritance, great. They’d all win. But no matter what, he had no intention of losing.
PIPER STOOD just to the side of the window that looked into the gym. Her gaze was fixed on Trace running on the treadmill. His T-shirt was wet, so was his hair. He looked damn fine.
She was going to have him tonight. In the pool and if she was lucky, again in her bed. Her whole body was thrilled.
Today had been fascinating. Trace had been true to his word. He’d listened, and he’d only been a jerk a couple of times, which for Trace was saying something.
But tonight it was all her show. She wanted to show him what Hush could be like for lovers. She’d arranged a few surprises on the roof. Nothing that a good customer couldn’t get, if so inclined. She wanted him to be swept away with the ambiance, the magic, the entire experience.