Hush

Welcome to

Check out the couple in Room 9006…

“Work with me during the day,” Piper said, “and by night, I’ll show you why Hush is going to succeed beyond my wildest dreams.”

Trace frowned. “Are you suggesting—”

Her lips curved into a seductive smile. “This hotel is made for lovers,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.

“We’re not lovers.”

“Anything is possible,” she said, making him forget to breathe. “Everything.”

Trace shifted in his chair. He was hard, as hard as he’d ever been as he glanced around the room, taking in the king-size bed, the toys and more.

“You think if we have sex, I’ll have a change of heart.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say a thing about having sex. I said we’d be lovers.”

Dear Reader,

Oh, my goodness. You’re holding a dream come true.

I had the initial idea for Hush several years ago, but that first glimmer wasn’t half as exciting as the reality turned out to be. I got to work with five amazing authors: Isabel Sharpe, Alison Kent, Nancy Warren, Debbi Rawlins and Jill Shalvis. I think you’ll agree it was the ultimate dream team. We had so much fun creating the incredible hotel that’s at the heart of the DO NOT DISTURB miniseries. I don’t know about you, but I want to stay at Hush and use all the facilities.

So let me be the first to send each of you a personal invitation. Please join us at Hush, check in to your penthouse suite. Dine at Amuse Bouche, have a massage, dance the night away at Exhibit A and play to your heart’s content. Don’t forget to peek into the bedside drawer for a naughty surprise!

Come visit us at http://www.hush-hotel.com. And don’t forget to check out the excerpt at the end of my story from Isabel Sharpe’s Thrill Me, the next book in DO NOT DISTURB.

Love,

Jo Leigh

Hush
Jo Leigh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To all the wonderful women who built Hush: Alison, Isabel, Nancy, Debbi, Jill and Birgit. Thank you all…it’s been a blast!

Piper Blows It Again!

Piper Devon hit the party circuit in La La Land hard and fast this weekend with none other than that delicious bad boy Alex Webster, lead singer of chart-topper FLAXON. The two of them got so carried away, that they had to be carried away!!! The hotel dynasty millionheire$$ made such a wild and crazy scene at the Viper Room, she’s been 86’d for good!

—Published June, 1996

National World Observer

Piper Goes to School!

Super heire$$ Piper Devon is registered in college!!! She’s going to NYU for a degree in, what else, hotel management! Think daddy Nicholas Devon had anything to say about it? Wonder if she’ll live in a dorm, instead of her huge penthouse suite at the ORPHEOUS? Will Alex sign up for music lessons???

—Published February, 1997

National World Observer

Piper’s Trust Exposed!!!

Sources close to the heire$$ report that on her twenty-fifth birthday, Piper Devon received $50 million big ones!!! But there’s a catch—in five years, she has to have made money on the trust money!!! Doesn’t seem too difficult, but she also has to pass muster from stricter-than-strict Daddy Devon, who, we’ve heard, was not pleased with the idea that Piper was going to build her own hotel. If Daddy doesn’t approve, she doesn’t get the rest of her inheritance…over HALF A BILLION $$$$!!!!

—Published October, 2003

National World Observer

Piper’s With Logan!!!

Piper Devon’s new boytoy is none other than LOGAN BARRISTER, THE HOT HOT HOT lead singer from WASTE! The lovebirds were snapped in Rome, where they made the pigeons blush on the piazza!! Wonder if he’s got his PIPER tattoo yet??????

—Published January, 2004

National World Observer

Piper’s Sex Hotel!!!!

Heire$$ Piper Devon’s new Manhattan boutique hotel is all about SEX!!! Construction began on the deluxe spa/hotel and those in the know say the theme is sex, sex and more sex! Private video cameras in every room! A lounge with exotic dancers! Massages (with extras?) 24/7! The name is HUSH, but there’s no way she’s keeping this a secret. What will her billionaire Daddy say about this???? Can’t wait to hear….

—Published August, 2004

National World Observer

Contents

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

1

“WELCOME TO HUSH.”

Piper Devon gazed at the crowd of photographers and journalists gathered in front of her, here to get a preview of her spanking new boutique hotel. As she stood on a makeshift platform at the far end of the lobby, flashbulbs popped all around her, but she didn’t even blink. She’d grown up in the glare of the paparazzi, and for the first time in forever she was able to use them for something she cared about. Her baby. Her hotel.

“Hey, Piper.” She recognized one of the reporters from the New York Post. “Where’s the sex?”

She laughed. Her photo-op laugh. “Keep your pants on, Josh.” She leaned forward just a smidge, enough to give the front row a money shot. “At least until we get upstairs.”

That got her exactly the response she was looking for. This time she needed the tabloids, needed them to spread the word that Hush was going to be the hottest ticket in town. That it was the place to stay in Manhattan.

One thing she’d learned in her years in the spotlight was that sex sells. Sex sells a lot. And she was the ideal spokeswoman.

“Does your father approve, Piper?”

She kept on smiling. “My father isn’t exactly who I built this hotel for.”

More laughter from the press. “Who did you build it for, Piper?”

She fluttered her eyelashes at the Channel 7 reporter. “For everyone who understands that Manhattan is for lovers. People who come to Hush want to explore their sexuality. Hopefully in the company of someone, well, close, but hey, there’s plenty of fun to be had for the single adventurer.”

“A vibrator in every room?”

“Better than a chicken in every pot, right, Elizabeth?”

The crowd of reporters laughed again. Good, excellent. “Okay, if you don’t have a brochure yet, you can pick one up on your way to the elevator. We’re going up to the twentieth floor, to the spa. And I promise, I won’t get started without you.”

Her staff, all in the Hush uniform of black tuxedos with pink ties, ushered the press to the four elevators.

She shivered with anticipation as the photographers clicked away. She’d dreamed this space, and it was now a reality. The glistening lacquered reservation desk with the same shiny surface on the back wall, broken only by the pink neon Art Deco HUSH signage, was perfection. The custom-designed furniture would have been at home in a grand salon of the 1920s. The artwork, vintage works by the likes of Erte and Bernard Villemot, was the pièce de résistance.

No one walking into this hotel would mistake it for one of the Devon hotels. It wasn’t like the Orpheus, her father’s flagship hotel and corporate headquarters, which was opulent to the point of nausea. No, this was a hotel for the young. The rich. The horny.

She stepped down from the podium, ready for the next part of the tour. Janice Foster, the general manager of the hotel, came up behind her, clapping her hands with excitement. “They love it. Oh, God, this is so fabulous. I heard the reporter from Vanity Fair say he’s going to book himself a three-day weekend.”

“What’s not to love?” Piper said, taking Janice’s arm as they walked to the elevator. “By this time next week, there won’t be a soul older than ten who hasn’t heard of Hush.”

“When are you going on Leno?”

“A week from Thursday.”

“What do you think of putting together a basket of the amenities for him?”

“Excellent idea. But then all your ideas are pretty swell.”

Janice laughed, lighting up her whole face. She was young for a GM but she was damn good at her job. In fact, Piper had stolen her from the Hard Rock hotel in Vegas. Expensive, yes, but worth every penny. Janice knew just how to pamper celebrities, and those were going to be Hush’s main draw. Of course, most of them were going to be comped, at least initially, but the paying customers would flock to be within spitting distance of the anointed.

They caught the last ride up, and Piper took a minute to fluff her hair. She kind of liked this new short do. For years her hair had been long, straight and mostly blond. It was still blond, but a lighter shade, and it was spiky in all the right places.

“Let’s just split the room down the middle,” she said, turning to Janice. “You take the first batch through to the private rooms, and I’ll head over to the mud bath.”

Janice straightened her black skirt. She wasn’t in a uniform, but she’d gone with the black-and-pink theme. Her dreamy Prada blouse was just sheer enough to show a hint of her black-lace bra underneath. “Got it.”

The cab stopped and they were met by another salvo of flashbulbs and hot camera lights.

It took a few minutes to divide the group in half. Of course, she would have to take the other half of the press on this same path because, face it, she was the star attraction. She of the wild parties and rock-star lovers. She was the kind of celebrity America reveled in. She looked damn good in front of the cameras, so who cared if there was anything more to her?

It no longer bothered her, at least as far as the press was concerned. It would have been nice, however, if her father, and a few other people who should know better, could see beyond the facade. But screw it. They could kiss her photogenic behind for all she cared. Hush was going to be fabulous. A success no one could possibly ignore. And she’d done it all by her lonesome.

“How about you getting into that mud bath for us, Piper?”

She giggled. And didn’t even roll her eyes. “Not tonight, Jack. But you call me in a couple of weeks, and I’ll see what I can arrange.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Now, Jack, I would have thought in a mud bath, you’d want to hold me to something else.”

They were all nodding, thrilled with that juicy little soundbite. Didn’t they get tired of it? She sure as hell did, but not tonight.

Tonight she was the epitome of Piper-ness. The flirty flake, the scandal in high heels. By Friday, her face would be on the cover of every tabloid in the U.S., and many in Europe. She’d made sure she would also be on some of the bigger magazines as well, including Vanity Fair, GQ and InStyle.

As they met once again in the spa lobby, Jason Newman, a stringer from Rolling Stone, called out, “Where’s Logan?”

“Not here.”

“Why not?”

“Logan’s on the road. What’s the matter, Jason, don’t you read your own magazine?”

He gave her the finger, good-naturedly, of course. Hell, she’d known Jason for years, and he’d never failed to talk trash about her. “You two still an item?”

“We’re still…something.”

“Come on, Piper. Give.”

“You’re on my turf now, big guy. And tonight is about the hotel.”

“Not fair.”

“Yeah, well, life is like that sometimes. Now, you want to see the sex or not?”

A smattering of applause followed, and she congratulated herself on another bullet dodged. The truth was that she was incredibly over Logan Barrister, and if she never saw his smarmy face again, it would be too soon. C’est la vie. And he wasn’t even the worst of her exes.

“We’re going to the nineteenth floor, kiddies,” she said as she led them back to the elevators. “Get your cameras ready.”

“Where’s the booze?”

She didn’t have to see where that question came from. “Is that you, Ted?”

Everyone busted up. Ted Staple was from The Daily News. The man never passed an open bar he didn’t love.

“You got it, gorgeous.”

“We’re all going to the bar as soon as the tour is done.”

“Well, then let’s get the damn show on the road,” Ted said, and that was it for another few minutes. She could just stand here, smile for the cameras, revel in her joy.

It actually took about fifteen minutes to get everyone down to the nineteenth floor. She had prepared one of the largest penthouse suites for tonight’s show. The Haiku Suite, designed by Zang Toi, was Asian luxury to die for.

Once everyone was in position, she started at the floor-to-ceiling windows and went from there. “In addition to the home theater experience with digitally delivered high-definition video on a flat panel LCD TV, including surround sound, we have one hundred television channels and ten high-definition channels that are private to the hotel.”

“What do you show on those, Piper?”

She gave them her seductive smile. “The best erotica. Something for every taste. And if that’s not enough…” She pointed to a black lacquer bookcase. “There’s a personalized video selection prepared for every guest.”

“How do you know what they’ll want?”

“Questionnaires. Very specific questionnaires.”

“Can we have some samples?”

“Of the videos? No. Of the questionnaires? Sure. The moment you book your reservation.”

She moved to the bedroom. “These are handcrafted oriental rugs, and every piece of art in here is a museum-quality antique. So don’t bump into anything, Ted.”

She waited for the laughter. When the room was quiet again, she continued, “The walls are upholstered with silk, and the walk-in closet is paneled in sycamore.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get back to the sex.”

“All right, all right. Jeez.” She went over to the low bedside table and opened the drawer. “Instead of the traditional reading material found in hotel drawers, we have thoughtfully provided a beautifully illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra and a selection of self-heating lubricating oils.”

She walked over to the antique armoire, which she opened with a flourish. She could have heard a pin drop in the room. It was just as she’d predicted. When it comes to sex, no one’s immune.

“This is the toy chest. Again, with something for everyone.” She pulled out a long, intricately braided leather whip. “And if any one of you think you’re going to print something trashing my hotel…” She flicked the whip against her leg, the crack loud despite the crowd, and tried not to wince. She’d had no idea it could hurt so much.

But she’d gotten her point across. It took a good half hour to go through the rest of the suite. The toys, the huge Jacuzzi tub, the erotic books, the selection of vibrators and costumes. But finally, it was time to go down to the bar.

Again, she and Janice waited for the last elevator. Unfortunately, they weren’t alone, so she couldn’t grill Janice for her critique. It would have to come later, but in her heart, Piper knew the preview had gone exceptionally well.

She let everyone get out in front of her, and saw the press had found the bar. So she lagged just a bit behind, giving herself a breather. There wouldn’t be a chance for another one until the wee hours.

Just as her Manolo Blahnik strappy sandal hit the lobby carpet, she saw him.

Her heart kicked into fourth gear and her smile faltered. But just for a second. She should have known he’d show up. After all, he worked for her father, and who else would Nicholas Devon send to do his dirty work but Trace Winslow.

Dammit, why did just the sight of him make her tremble? She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a civil conversation. He couldn’t hide his disdain, and she couldn’t help but bait the prudish bastard. He just made it so easy. He’d never seen her for who she really was. And he never would.

“Hello, Piper.”

She gave him her most dazzling grin. “Hey, Trace.” She walked toward him, glad she’d worn this sexy little pink Versace number that made her boobs look huge. “I hope you’re staying for a while. I’d like to give you the personal tour.”

He looked her over, his gaze stalling at her chest on the way down and even longer on the way back up. “Actually, I am.”

Her breath caught. “Excuse me?”

“I am staying. For the rest of the week. My luggage will be right in.” He looked around the lobby as if he hadn’t just hurled a huge land mine. “What, no bellmen?”

“The hotel isn’t open yet.”

He nodded. “No problem. I’ll just leave my bags behind the desk until the tour is over. You do have room for one more, don’t you?”

“Wait just a minute there, buddy. What do you mean you’re staying here?”

“Just what I said.”

“I don’t remember inviting you.”

“And yet, I knew in my heart you’d welcome me with open arms.”

“Oh, please. With an open switchblade, maybe.”

He came closer, all six foot two of polished grace, looking so smug she wanted to smack him. Of course, he pushed himself into her personal space. Near enough for her to smell the hint of his Platinum Egoiste cologne, feel the simmering contempt that was as ever present as his perfect haircuts. “I’m here to help you, Piper.”

“Help me? Don’t be absurd.”

“It’s true. I’m going to stay for the entire week, get to know the hotel, try to talk a little sense into you.”

“As if anything you’d have to say would be in my best interest.”

“You’d better believe it.”

“And what? If you don’t like what you see, you’re going to tell on me? Cry to Daddy that I’m not being a good little Devon?”

“That’s right.”

“If I cared, I wouldn’t have built the hotel.”

He shrugged. “Have it your way. But I suggest you think this through.”

She took a deep breath. It was important not to yell. Not to lose her cool. The press was here in droves, and she didn’t want anything to deflect from the buzz she was working so hard to build for her hotel. “And why should I do that?”

“Because, my little spoiled heiress, if you don’t, you’re going to be cut off. Completely. From all those millions of Devon dollars.”

2

PIPER STARED at him with her wide blue eyes, and God help him, Trace couldn’t hold back his smile. He’d gotten to her. Oh, yeah. She’d never suspected that Daddy would pull the plug. Not Piper. She was entitled. To everything. So what if she was embarrassing her father, damaging the Devon name? If it felt good, she did it. If it put her face on the front page of the tabloids, she’d be there.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, her voice a whole lot less cocky.

“I’m sure you heard me, sweetheart. Nicholas isn’t pleased. And since he’s the one who controls the money, he gets to vote with your inheritance.”

“And he couldn’t be bothered to come down here himself?”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t have liked it if he had. I’m giving you a break, Piper.”

“Some break.” She took a step back. “Gee, Trace, what next? You gonna go tell the press? I’m sure they’d love the scoop.”

“I actually wanted a chance to hear your spiel, but I guess I’m too late. I think I’ll go have a drink, though. Care to join me?”

“I’d rather eat worms. I need to promote my hotel. Do me a favor, Trace, find yourself some babe, and keep out of my way.”

“Mighty snippy for a woman on the brink of poverty.”

“I’m not kidding. I can’t do this now.”

“What about after?”

She headed for the reception desk and walked behind it. He followed at a more leisurely pace, letting himself get a feel for the lobby. It was nice. Very nice. Even Nicholas wouldn’t know that it was a sex hotel from here. When he reached her at the desk, she was typing on a keyboard. She didn’t look up.

“Piper?”

Trace glanced toward the bar, where an attractive redhead looked at him curiously.

“Give me a minute, Janice,” Piper said, still not lifting her head.

“You got it.” The redhead checked him out, smiled, then went back into the dark recesses of the bar. Maybe he would find himself someone to talk to.

On the other hand, it was so much fun to be with Piper. Especially when he had her at such a distinct disadvantage. People talk about the fun of tennis, but they didn’t know what it was like to volley in the big leagues. Nobody gave it to him like Piper. Pity she was such a brat.

“Here,” she said, slapping a key card on the black lacquer counter. “You can stay tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He slipped the key in his breast pocket. “You gonna give me turndown service?”

“Why should tonight be any different? I always turn you down.”

He bowed his head slightly. “Touché. I really just handed that one to you. Sloppy, Trace, sloppy.”

“Well, you just stand there and try to come up with something better.”

Piper walked away and he couldn’t help but admire the view. That little pink number hugged her in all the right places. No wonder the press loved her. She was stunning, and at twenty-seven, she was more beautiful than she’d ever been.

Not that it mattered. She was spoiled and reckless and she lived as if she were God’s gift to the world. No concern for anyone else, no sense of propriety. She did what she liked, consequences be damned. Well, her free ride was about to end if she didn’t make a real quick turnaround. He hoped, for her sake, she’d get the message. Piper wouldn’t make an attractive pauper. She was awfully used to that silver spoon.

What the hell. He might as well check out the bar. He had the feeling he’d be seeing a lot of it in the next week.

PIPER FELT like she’d been kicked in the stomach. He wouldn’t really… Not cut her off. It was a hotel, for heaven’s sake. She wasn’t selling herself in Times Square. She was doing what she’d been born to do. Sure, it was a new concept, nothing at all like the chain of Devon hotels, but wasn’t that the point of a new generation?

The stipulations on her trust hadn’t said a thing about propriety. Her job was to make money, and dammit, there was no way Hush wouldn’t. He couldn’t do this to her, that’s all. She was his only daughter.

Kyle must have had something to do with this. Greedy little bastard of a brother. Always pandering to Nicholas. Damn him.

They’d both been born late in her father’s life. Nicholas had met their mother, Alicia, just after he’d turned forty. Of course, he’d been married before, four times, but Alicia had been the one. How they’d wanted a son. Piper had been reminded of that enough times to make her sick, but Nicholas was from the old school. The very old school. Her mother had protected her from the worst of it, but Alicia hadn’t been around long enough to help with Kyle. So her baby brother had grown up to be the perfect heir. She doubted Nicholas had ever once considered that Piper might be the logical choice to take over the company. Of course not. Darling Kyle would undoubtedly continue to live at Orpheus, continue to be everything Nicholas wanted him to be, and when it was his turn to ascend to the throne, he’d be just as much of a bastard as her father.

She walked into Erotique, the gorgeous bar, to the accompaniment of cameras, laughter, talking. People having a good time. She pasted on her best smile, and went into the fray. This was her specialty. Getting attention. Making the headlines. No one did it better than her, and dammit, neither Trace or his news was going to spoil things now.

She’d figure a way to get her father to accept Hush. She would. She wasn’t a Devon for nothing.

THE REST of the night went on in a blur of interviews and champagne. Trace was never completely out of her sight. She’d turn, and there he’d be. Sipping the Cristal, talking to some hottie, laughing it up. And when his eyes met hers, he smiled. Smiled like he was on top of the world.

The prick.

What had she ever, ever seen in him? He was duplicitous, underhanded and a whole bunch of other evil things that if she hadn’t had that last glass of champagne, she could think of.

Doing her a favor. Ha. He just wanted a front-row ticket. He couldn’t wait to see her take a fall. “Well, you know what, Mr. High-and-Mighty Winslow? Screw you.”

“What?”

Piper looked front. To the confused gaze of some guy from the Enquirer. “I’m sorry, what was your question?”

The guy, who was swaying just a little more than he should have, gave her a salacious grin. “So you tried out those toys in the cupboard upstairs?”

Piper kept smiling. “Not those, no.”

His face fell but his next sip of champagne seemed to soften the blow.

“Would you excuse me?” She made a quick tour of Erotique; it was so beautiful it made her ache. Most of the press had congregated around the black circular bar, the pink overhead lighting flattering and sexy. She loved the high black bar chairs with the inverted triangle backs. She headed toward the ladies’ room, running her hand over the only empty round-backed leather armchair, admiring the sea foam-green that matched the lobby carpet exactly. It was a killer bar, and it would be packed nightly. No doubt at all.

She nodded, grinned, waved like a damn parade-float princess all the way to the bathroom. She pushed the door open, saw the crowd, and made a hasty retreat. Hurrying as quickly as possible in her heels, she went through the lobby to the first elevator. No one came after her, and the moment she was inside the cab she hit the button for the spa floor and collapsed against the mirror.

She closed her eyes and let out a howl that while loud, was surprisingly unsatisfying. The elevator came to a stop and she went right for the bathroom.

The whole room smelled faintly of lavender. Peace, quiet and beauty surrounded her, a balm to her soul. She sat on one of the stools by the long pink marble sink, wishing she’d brought her bag. She needed to fix her lipstick.

Instead, she faced herself in the mirror. No photo-op smile, no tricks of the light. Just her. She had a problem, a big one. She knew Hush was going to make it, that it could be one of the hottest hotels in Manhattan. But she also wasn’t a fool. She wanted her inheritance. Who wouldn’t? It was one hell of a lot of money, and while it couldn’t buy happiness, it could get her real close. Even though it would be a fine and dramatic gesture to tell her father to go jump in a lake, it would be strategically unsound.

The thing was, she didn’t have enough time. She felt sure her father would eventually get over his problem with Hush. It would take a few years for Hush to be completely in the black, and she’d been counting on his help to get through until the cash flow was steady, but if he was going to be this stubborn… Damn, she only had a week. A week with Trace Winslow on her ass, which not only didn’t help, it made things exponentially worse.

Trace knew exactly how to push every one of her buttons, and had no hesitation in doing so. He was a vile man, a hateful man. And good God, he turned her on like a light switch.

She dropped her head in her hands. This should have been a triumphant night, a glorious victory. She looked up again, met her eyes. It still was a victory. She’d make it work. She’d figure it out. But first, she’d go back to the bar and she wouldn’t even glance at Trace.

HE WATCHED HER work the room, and even he had to admit she was doing one hell of a job. Gliding from one reporter to the next, she never missed a beat or an opportunity to make nice. Quite a change from her usual shenanigans.

How many times had he passed a newsstand to find Piper’s photo plastered on the tabloids in some compromising position? Drunk or disheveled, hanging on some guy, at this party or that. The woman lived for notoriety. And here she was, playing the hostess, acting as if she were a responsible adult, when the whole world knew she was still a wild child. Who did she think she was fooling?

He thought about her latest in a long string of idiot men. Logan Barrister, for God’s sake. His band might be at the top of the charts, but the guy had the brains of a trout. If anything he was more of a press slut than Piper. They’d been kicked out of more Manhattan bars than anyone else he could think of.

The tragedy was, Trace had a strong suspicion that Piper was bright. Really smart. If she hadn’t been so busy trying to shock her father, she could have made something of herself. She knew the business inside and out. Hush had all the potential to be a first-class hotel, but no. She had to go and make it a haven for the kinky. It was a very expensive way to act out, and the consequences were far reaching. But would she listen to him?

He put his empty glass on the bar. He still had to take his luggage upstairs, get settled in his room. It was almost two, and the place had cleared out considerably, but there were still some die-hards left.

Piper looked as fresh as she had when he’d first walked in. How she’d managed that, he couldn’t say. She must have been nervous as hell at this first sneak peek, but it didn’t show.

He wouldn’t bother her. Not tonight. Let her get some rest. She’d need it. So would he. Tomorrow was going to be…interesting.

PIPER WAS as exhausted as a person could be and still be upright. She made her way through the dwindling crowd looking for Janice.

There she was, standing by the leaded glass doors, and oh, Mick, her hunky boyfriend, had finally made an appearance. Seeing them together, Piper smiled. They’d met here, at Hush. Janice had moved in a few weeks ago, when Piper herself had taken up residence. There had been so much to do to get the hotel ready for the opening date. And Mick, he’d been here, too. He was a master carpenter, and he’d worked on several of the penthouse suites. He and Janice had hit it off right away, even though she was eight years his senior. It looked like love to Piper.

At least someone was happy. That was a good thing. Her gaze swept the room but she didn’t see Trace. He must have slipped out while she’d been busy. He was probably upstairs right now, slipping between the sheets.