Isabel Sharpe: Thrill Me

A gentle knock sounded. Beck fought down the rush of excitement and opened the door calmly. “Hello, May.”

She looked beautiful—when did she not?—and walked past him into the room. She wore a sexy black off-shoulder top that left her firm midriff bare, and a fire-engine-red clingy short skirt that hugged her hips adoringly.

He’d invited her in for research. Right.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I haven’t yet, but you’re welcome.” Smiling, May faced him, and whatever uncertainty had been plaguing her before was gone. She was on fire, eyes bright and sure.

“Uh, would you like a drink first—”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Let’s just do it, Beck.”

Her soft words had the opposite effect on his arousal. He needed to focus on the scene playing out before him, focus on his book. He grabbed his laptop. “Mind if I take notes?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She stood still for a second. Putting her hands on the hem of the shirt, she lifted it slowly, exposing full round breasts captured—barely, it seemed—in a few inches of sheer black lace, nipples clearly visible under the sheer fabric.

Beck’s hands froze on the keyboard. Oh, my.

Dear Reader,

Who wouldn’t want to be treated to a week in a luxury boutique hotel in Manhattan? Especially a “discreet” hotel like Hush, where anything goes and the staff is trained to lift no eyebrows and refuse no request.

My heroine, small-town girl May Ellison, rebounding from the only relationship she’s ever had, thinks this is not a bad idea either, especially once she meets sexy celebrity author Beck Desmond. During her week at Hush, May gets to indulge herself at the spa, pool, library, restaurant and a certain unusually titillating bar….

Welcome to the fabulous miniseries, DO NOT DISTURB, brought to you by yours truly and some of my favorite Harlequin Blaze authors. We worked closely together to create this fabulous fantasy place. Want a virtual visit? Go to www.hushhotel.com and check yourself in. Can’t get enough? Spend time at www.eHarlequin.com as the series’ books come out, and look for each author’s bonus short story, set in one of Hush’s rooms. You can also chat with the authors on the site and ask us questions!

Finally, don’t miss the excerpt from the next DO NOT DISTURB story, Kiss & Makeup by Alison Kent, at the end of this book.

Hope you enjoy May and Beck’s adventure and the miniseries! Let me know. You can e-mail me through my Web site, www.IsabelSharpe.com.

Cheers,

Isabel Sharpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Tracy Miller,

who has brought so much happiness to those I love best

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

MEMORANDUM

To: Staff

From: Janice Foster, General Manager, HUSH Hotel

Date: Sunday, July 6

Re: Trevor Little

Mr. Trevor Little will be bringing another guest this week. We will be following the usual pattern of gifts: flowers Monday, spa visit Tuesday, bracelet Wednesday, negligee Thursday and the molded chocolate sculpture Friday. Reminder: please treat his guest with absolute courtesy and do not act as if you’ve seen him here before. As usual, calls to his room should be forwarded to his voice mail and anyone asking for him should be told he is not registered here.

Note on housekeeping board:

Someone else gets to clean Trevor Little’s room. I got it last time. Yick!

IF SHE THOUGHT of the Midwest Airlines airplane as a womb, and the jetway into Newark airport as a birth canal, then May Hope Ellison figured she was about to be reborn. Her first symbolic breaths of new life were only yards away in the hallowed area outside gate B40.

Okay, so maybe that was pushing it.

She’d been planning to fly into LaGuardia since Manhattan was her destination, but Trevor had insisted she fly into Newark. To save her the traffic and hassle of LaGuardia, he’d said. And with luck, he’d get out of his meeting in New Jersey early and be able to meet her on the eleven-thirty-five train to Penn Station.

May’s mother, born and bred in Wisconsin, but lived in the Big Apple for a couple of years before she married, had shrugged and said she’d never had any trouble at LaGuardia.

Of course May hadn’t told her mother about Trevor. Mom thought May was exploring New York with her high school friend Ginny. Mothers didn’t generally get very excited about daughters flying halfway across the country to spend a week of wild passion in a luxury boutique hotel with a man they barely knew.

Well, maybe they did get excited. But not in a good way.

One more step, around the corner, and there was her first sight of her new temporary life and— Wow. Lots of gates. Lots of noise. Lots and lots of people. This was not Milwaukee. And it certainly wasn’t Oshkosh.

She wasn’t aware she’d stopped dead until someone bumped into her and muttered something not terribly flattering or polite.

Forward, then, going with the flow, heading out of the gate-studded cul-de-sac, up a long corridor, then around another corner into the main terminal. Even more people. Security lines many many yards long, three of them, two and three people deep. She clutched the directions Trevor had e-mailed her and followed signs for the shuttle to the N.J. Transit train that would take her into the city.

After much confusion, buying the wrong ticket to the wrong destination—why would they name both the New York and New Jersey stations Penn Station?—she finally made it onto the right train, counting the cars carefully so she’d be in the one she and Trevor agreed upon. Third behind the engine.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t there. Or fortunately, depending on whose nerves you asked. Not that she wasn’t thrilled to be doing this, of course she was. It’s just that…well how did you behave during a long commute with someone you barely knew that you were planning to screw for an entire week?

Hey, how are you? Hot for this time of year, isn’t it? Looking forward to penetrating me?

Maybe it was better they’d meet at the hotel.

Half an hour later, May emerged from the train onto a hot, dark, underground platform, dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. She inched along, in closer proximity to more strangers than she cared to be, and struggled up the stairs. Penn Station made Newark Airport look like a ghost town.

Not that she’d never seen crowds before. Not that she hadn’t expected everything to be Milwaukee times four, Oshkosh times ten. And Pine River, Wisconsin, the town she grew up in, times…did they make numbers that big?

Onward to her adventure. She’d met Trevor a month ago when he’d come through for the University of Wisconsin “spirit day” celebration and stopped by to catch up with an old professor at the business school, where she worked as assistant to the Dean.