Jeanie London - Hot Sheets

Laura caught a breath that made her chest rise and fall sharply. She could still see Dale’s smile.

“You like that.” He made it a statement, not a question, as his hands caressed her bare skin.

“I do.”

There was an incredible unreality about the moment.

Sensory overload from the feel of his mouth, the sight of his dark head poised over her, the promise in those smoky eyes.

This was Dale Emerson, the man who’d been haunting her subconscious for so long that watching him touch her was surreal in the extreme. It was a scene from one of her fantasies come to life while she stood barely dressed in front of a mirror, his tongue tasting her throat, a warm velvet stroke that left a gleam of dampness in its wake.

“I’ve wanted to be bad with you for a long time.

And we’re going to be bad together, Laura.

Very bad.”

Dear Reader,

Hot Sheets is the first book in my miniseries FALLING INN BED…. Since this series is all about how falling in bed leads to falling in love, I promise lots of red-hot fun in this and the stories ahead.

In this story we have Dale Emerson. You may remember him from About That Night, Blaze #53, where he laughed at the irony of his best buddy succumbing to love. That attitude meant his time had come. So what kind of woman would tempt this bad boy? Well, there just happens to be a beautiful bedding consultant who works at a sexy romance resort. Sounds like a perfect match, right?

Not exactly. Laura Granger likes romance with her sex. She won’t consider a fling no matter how hot her chemistry with Dale is. And it’s blazing! It doesn’t take long before he’s not only obsessing about falling in bed, but falling in love.

I hope you enjoy Dale and Laura’s love story. Let me know. Drop me a line at www.JeanieLondon.com. And watch for the next two books in the miniseries—#157, Run for Covers (Nov.), and #161, Pillow Chase (Dec.).

Very truly yours,

Jeanie London

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Brenda Chin,

for your continuing encouragement

and all the great names!

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

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

“LET THE SEX GAMES BEGIN!”

Truer words had never been spoken. Laura Granger had crammed the schedule with more erotic events during the next three weeks than this old hotel had ever seen. That said a lot since the property had been built well over a hundred years ago.

Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast, or Falling Inn Bed as it was locally known, had started life during the 1880s boom that had earned Niagara Falls, New York, a place on the social calendar. Its evolution since that era had seen it alternately sparkle like a jewel and fade beneath the grime of the decades. But its most interesting development, as far as Laura was concerned, was its rebirth five years ago as a romance resort.

The term “romance resort” roughly translated into an upscale old hotel that specialized in sex, and as the inn’s special events coordinator, or bedding consultant as she was commonly known, Laura knew firsthand just how much sex permeated the mood around here. She could call the newly updated promotional blurb into memory by heart.

Fun, active and romantic, Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast is a unique resort, the perfect escape for energetic—and slightly wicked!—couples looking to ignite the spark.

Accommodations include suites exclusively designed for romance with lush settings such as the Roman Bagnio, Victorian Bordello, Sultan’s Seraglio, Warlord’s Tower, Wild West Brothel, Demimondaine’s Boudoir, Roaring Twenties’ Speakeasy, Sixties’ Love Nest, Red-light District and the Space Odyssey.

A variety of exclusive shops offer erotic enhancements designed to drive couples wild, and with the grand opening of the new Wedding Wing, newlyweds will have a one-stop spot to accommodate all their naughty nuptial needs.

Unable to resist a smile, Laura gazed around the lobby of the inn’s prized new addition. The Wedding Wing…this was her baby, an idea realized from conception through construction and now inauguration. She’d spent the past two years bringing her vision for this fantasy wedding operation to life and she couldn’t possibly be prouder of the result.

Light from a crystal chandelier illuminated the New England antiques arranged in welcoming clusters around the lobby. A small-scale reservation desk ran along the west wall, directly opposite her pride and joy—a Mireille Marceaux oil painting, showcased behind museum-quality glass.

The glass display had depleted a chunk of her budget, but the expense had been necessary to meet the terms of arranging the painting’s loan for the grand opening. And acquiring this art, even for a visit, had been quite a coup. Not only was the nude a regional beauty, but she set the whole tone for the new wing. And to Laura’s mind brought good luck for the all-important grand opening events.

She needed all the good luck she could get right now.

Falling Woman would do the trick. Surrounded by lush forest and mist from the falls, the woman in the painting held a sheer veil that spilled over her curves like a waterfall. Laura believed her sultry smile meant she approved of her new home, a place where newlyweds kicked off sensual happily-ever-afters.

As the name implied, the Wedding Wing’s sole function was to accommodate weddings. Five floors of banquet halls, guest rooms, romance-themed honeymoon suites and even a brand-new full-service spa to pamper guests.

The grand opening had been officially dubbed the Naughty Nuptials, and the ensuing promotional campaign would span three weeks of highly publicized events. Week one was dedicated to Wild, Wild Weddings.

Laura had a typical slate of bridal functions scheduled, but with a Falling Inn Bed twist. A sex-toy shower, bad bachelor/ette parties and racy rehearsal dinner would culminate in a real wedding and kick off week two of the campaign—Risqué Receptions, which would be followed by Hottest Honeymoons in week three.

This grand opening promised to go down in history. It needed to. The management staff of Falling Inn Bed had wagered their personal and professional futures on the Wedding Wing’s success. While they’d never expressed anything but total faith in Laura’s ability to pull off this event, their trust underscored every decision she made, alternately empowering and weighing on her.

As if on cue, the radio affixed to her belt crackled and a Scottish burr rolled out on a wave of static. “Do you copy, bedding consultant?”

Unfastening the radio, Laura glanced down at her watch—almost check-in time. “Whisper sweet nothings, handyman.”