If you like this online read you'll enjoy Marie Ferrarella's books!

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"No, I don't want to meet him," Marla O'Connor told her best friend for the third time as the elevator doors of the St. Charles Hotel closed. Miraculously, given the number of people staying at the San Francisco hotel, the car was empty. With luck, she'd reach the 12th floor in a minimum of time, with a minimum of words from Barbara. Barbara and her fiancé, Stewart, were staying on 11. "I don't want to meet anyone. This is a teachers' convention, Barbara, not one big singles bar. I came here to learn, not date."

A pert brunette, half a head shorter than her friend, Barbara frowned. "The two are not mutually exclusive, you know. All I'm saying is that you have to keep your eyes and options open."

It was an old tug-of-war, one Marla engaged in with not only Barbara but, it seemed, every female relative in her family tree, including her three very-much-married sisters.

"I'll take care of my own options, thank you very much. And as for my eyes, they're going to be open on this book." She held up the hardback she'd purchased in the hotel gift shop.

"I'd say something here, but it would be X-rated." Barbara glanced at the title. Mystery at Midnight. "Honestly, Marla, you're an English teacher. That's pure pulp."

Not to me, Marla thought. To her it was pure escape. She shrugged, tucking the book back under her arm. "So I'm letting my mind go slumming. There's nothing like a good mystery to get you stimulated."

Barbara's smile was positively wicked. "I can think of something else ? to get you stimulated."

Marla stopped her before she could elaborate. "I'd rather curl up with a good book than a bad man."

Barbara's smile widened. "That all depends on your definition of bad."

"Does the word lemon mean anything to you?"

"Let's see," Barbara pretended to think as the floors slowly passed. "Lemonade sipped slowly at poolside while some gorgeous hunk of a man is gently rubbing suntan lotion on my warm body."

Marla could only sigh, shaking her head. "You are hopeless."

"No, ever hopeful." Barbara grasped Marla's arm imploringly. "Marla, we're in the big city here. This is our chance to kick up our heels."

"You kick, I'll read."

Barbara sighed in defeat. "Then you won't meet Stewart's friend?"

"Not tonight I won't." Marla had all the excitement she wanted between the covers of the new mystery. "I'm just going to take a nice hot shower, call room service, and crack open this book."

"You're passing up the chance of cracking open champagne instead."

Barbara, never one to give up easily, had already elaborated her dinner plans with Stewart and his friend at length.

"Afraid so."

The elevator stopped on eight to pick up two people. Marla moved to the side. "Sometimes I don't know why we're still friends," Barbara whispered to her. "If you're not careful, you're going to turn into Mrs. Everett."

The name from their mutual past pulled up no fond memories. "I promise that before I turn into a dour old assistant principal I'll go out with Stewart's friend."

Barbara looked at her reprovingly. "Dour old assistant principals are made, not born."

The door opened for Barbara's floor. The other two people got off. "Go." Marla all but shooed Barbara out. "Have fun. I hope you have a great dinner. I'll be perfectly happy alone in my hotel room. After listening to all those long-winded seminars I could use a little diversion."

Barbara held the door open with her hand. "My point exactly."

"A diversion that didn't try to get into my bed at the end of the evening just because I absently smiled at it over dinner."

Barbara shook her head. "You really don't know what you're missing."

"Then write me a note about it ? fifty words or less. Remember, spelling counts."

"Yes, Miss O'Connor." Barbara released the door and it closed.

Marla laughed to herself as she stepped off the elevator on her floor. Barbara meant well, but she just didn't understand. Barbara found it easy to meet men, to strike up conversations and be vivacious. She, on the other hand, became instantly tongue-tied when confronted with a prospective date. It was only when she was living vicariously, imaging herself the heroine of a wonderful novel, that she knew just what to say, that her conversation was pithy instead of pathetic. She positively shone in the English literature class she taught at Bedford High. But her light extinguished when it came to face-to-face encounters, especially with good-looking men.

Maybe someday, she mused, someone like Rick Arrowsmith would come into her life. The blurb about the hero in the suspense thriller she'd picked up sounded like everything she wanted in a man. Tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious, with a lethally sexy mouth and piercing eyes that radiated heat and desire. All that and a mind that was razor sharp.

What a combination. If she ever found a man like Rick Arrowsmith ? with a sigh, Marla put her card into the slot of her hotel door and slid it down, then turned the latch.

The lights were on inside the room. Funny, she didn't remember leaving them on. Maybe housekeeping had come in. But there was no reason for them to do that, she thought. This was her first day here ? she hadn't even unpacked, much less rumpled her bed. There'd only been time to throw her suitcase into the closet before dashing off to the first lecture.

Bemused, she stepped out of her shoes and tossed her new book on the bed. She could have sworn she heard a shower running. Had to be in the room next to hers.

You'd think an elegant hotel like the St. Charles would have walls that were thicker than that, she thought.

Marla debated calling room service immediately, but then decided against it. She didn't want the waiter arriving while she was in the shower and she planned to be in there for a very long time. There was something incredibly soothing about having the hot water cascade all over your body.

Like a man's hands, gently gliding along your skin.

She pulled herself out of her mental reverie before she sank in too deeply. Unbuttoning her blouse, she pulled it out of the waistband of her slender, dark skirt and walked to the bathroom.

The sound of running water grew more audible. She supposed the bathrooms were positioned back-to-back to save on plumbing fixtures.

Opening the door, she felt the mist first. It surrounded her like a veil that then slowly lifted.

A second later she saw the outline of a naked male body on the other side of the translucent glass.

To be continued..



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