Run for Covers. Jeanie London
“I knew I liked you from the moment we met, Clyde,” she said. “I’m in the Mediterranean mood today. Just can’t resist those beaches. And please double my order, so I can share.”
Adam wasn’t sure what a champagne cocktail classicist was, but the look Tori shot his way told him he would soon find out.
Accepting a flute, she passed Adam a second, then accompanied him from the bar.
“Mediterranean?” he asked.
“Bubbly with a dash of pomegranate and orange liqueur.”
They wound their way to a spot in the crowd where they could view the proceedings before Tori tipped back her first sip. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she sighed appreciatively.
“I love that man. And I’ll give you one thing around here, Adam—you know how to pick staff. Clyde’s the perfect man for his job. And Laura…the bedding consultant.” She chuckled, and he wondered what she found so amusing. He didn’t ask.
“You’re the only one I haven’t been able to figure out yet, Adam. What do you bring to this place?”
He would have said sanity but as he hadn’t accomplished that ambitious goal yet, he said, “You’ve formulated your opinions of our staff quickly.”
“I work fast.”
No doubt there. “And you have a lock on everyone but me?”
“It’s been two days,” she said as if that explained it. Then she glanced back at the bar. “Take Clyde for example. He’s a retired businessman who took the job as your head bartender because his wife died.” She tipped her flute in salute. “I thought his devotion to your hotel might be to avoid being home alone. So I asked him. You know what he told me?”
“No idea.”
“That he came to Falling Inn Bed because the romance around here helps remind him of all the years he had with his Alice. Isn’t that sweet?”
Adam nodded, surprised. While he would expect a reporter of Tori’s caliber to dig up intimate details on a man’s life, he hadn’t expected her to be influenced by them. A thoughtful smile played around her mouth, and there was a softness to her voice he’d never heard before.
“Are you impressed?” she asked.
“I am. You learned more about Clyde in two days than I have in the past ten months.”
Not that it had ever occurred to him to ask personal questions. Clyde did a superb job running the house bar, and Adam hadn’t needed to know anything else about the man.
Tori flashed him a high-beam smile that told him his praise had pleased her. She tapped her flute against his in a tinkle of crystal. “Now drink up, Adam. Think of this as an adventure. You’ll always be able to say you tried one.”
He wasn’t sure who would care whether he’d tried a champagne cocktail, but he’d rather taste it than engage in another debate on the importance of adventuring in life. He sipped. He swallowed. He said, “Good.”
Her frown suggested she’d guessed he was humoring her, but he was spared from further debate when the emcee invited couples to join the bride and groom on the dance floor.
Taking a long drink of her champagne, Tori deposited the glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “Come on. Dancing is a divine way to loosen up and have a good time. It gets the blood flowing and the heart racing—a fun way to stay healthy.”
Adam wouldn’t mention that to make up for the personal life he’d left back on the West Coast, he’d nearly doubled his normal workout schedule. Staying healthy was not an issue when he was training with a martial arts master five days a week.
So he disposed his glass and led her onto the dance floor, reconciled. As her escort, his life for the next two weeks would be subject to her whim. After the way she’d greeted him in her suite a short time ago, he’d pick his battles.
As the band slid into a slow tune, Adam twined his fingers through hers and slipped his hand around her waist. Tori melted against him until he could feel the brush of her curves everywhere, and he found himself remembering the way she’d looked without her gown, all creamy curves and bold challenge. The effect was double-barreled, forcing him to call upon every ounce of his will to keep his body behaving appropriately.
She wanted a reaction. He wouldn’t give her one.
“What makes you so convinced there’s a scoop to be had around here, Ms. Ford?”
“Would the Worldwide Travel Association send a photojournalist with Tyler Tripp’s credentials to film a documentary if there wasn’t a story?”
“You are aware that Tyler has a connection to our inn.”
“I know, I know,” she said snuggling closer. “Once upon a time, he covered the inn for WTA’s annual contest. His coverage earned you the Most Romantic Getaway Award and a substantial promotional package. Tyler’s been very forthcoming. But he and I are looking for different things in our stories.”
“What’s so different, Ms. Ford?”
“He’s filming an industry documentary on your bedding consultant and the Naughty Nuptials. He’ll showcase what Falling Inn Bed does as a way of helping other hotels to find their niche market and capitalize on it. He’s already sold on this place—”
“But you’re not?”
“Oh, no, I’m sold. I live in town, remember? But I want more. I want to know how you serve romance to your guests and why it works. People are fascinated with this inn. I intend to answer all my readers’ questions, and to do that, I have to experience the magic firsthand.”
She glanced up at him, her expression suddenly serious. “You know, that gives me an idea….”
To Adam’s surprise, she stepped out of his arms. He let her go, appreciating a reprieve from all those taunting curves while she rummaged through her purse and pulled out a small electronic device. Bringing it to her lips, she depressed a button and said, “What about an FAQ section? Frequently asked questions for readers who are just tuning in. It’ll be the perfect way to keep readers up to speed while welcoming new readers. Three weeks is a long time to keep everyone’s attention.”
Adam watched, shielding her from the dancers while she stood unselfconsciously talking into her recorder.
She finally dropped the device back in her purse. “Sorry. I have to get my ideas down when they happen or I forget them.”
Nodding, he guided her back into his embrace again, only this time keeping her at arm’s length. “Now I have a question for you, Ms. Ford.”
“Shoot.”
“Why do you think you need to get personal?”
She peered up at him with a smile playing around her mouth, and he couldn’t help but drag his gaze over her face, taking in her delicate features one by one. Smooth skin. Deep blue eyes. Thickly fringed lashes that looked dusted in gold. She was an incredibly beautiful woman. Too beautiful for his peace of mind.
“I’ve got two reasons, Adam.”
“And they are?”
“I like you. You’ve got this wonderful old hotel with all these sexy suites and all you want to do is work, work, work. I happen to know that your boss ordered the management team to participate in the Naughty Nuptials and have fun. You’ve got a unique opportunity here, and I like you enough to help you make the most of it. When will you ever get another chance to be a part of a special event like this one?”
Never, if he got lucky. “I can safely say there won’t be another Naughty Nuptials campaign happening for some time.”
“My point exactly.” Tori flashed him a grin and melted bonelessly against him.
Suddenly responsible for