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‘Certainly, sir. We just require a fifty pound deposit for the room that we can charge to a card if you prefer. It will be returned upon check-out.’
‘Cash is good.’ Alex answered the rest of the clerk’s questions and a moment later, he was handed the key to room forty-three.
She kept her eyes on the floor as Alex led her to the lift behind the reception area. It opened immediately and they stepped in, Alex hit the button marked four. As the doors began to close, he pulled her close and whispered.
‘Don’t need our faces on camera.’
His lips found hers and her body unwittingly reacted as it always had to him. As though she hadn’t limped through the last year without him. As though they weren’t running for their lives. She moved her hands to his chest to steady herself. The cotton-blend of his jumper barely contained the muscle beneath her hands. She melted into him, her senses overwhelmed by his hands on her face, his fingers tangled in her hair. He tasted like salted caramel.
They broke apart as the lift chimed their arrival on the fourth floor and staggered into the deserted hall. Sarah’s senses were reeling from that kiss. She couldn’t believe she’d simply fallen into his arms like that. Not after everything that had happened a year ago, not to mention tonight.
Room forty-three was the third door to the left. Alex quickly turned the key and ushered her inside. The understated color scheme had not persisted past the hall. A garish collision of greens competed for attention inside the small room, from the neon base to the bamboo leaf print wallpaper to the spearmint curtains. The cream linen on the double bed looked clean but Sarah didn’t need to get any closer to know the thread count had probably not warranted mention on the packaging.
The tiny air-conditioner tried and failed to look inconspicuous, hanging directly under the off-white ceiling. Sarah chose to believe it had been left on by considerate hotel management rather than an oversight by the previous and probably very recent occupants of the room. A small alarm clock blinked the time in bright red numerals: 2:09 AM. Sarah gasped. More time had passed than she realized. She peeled her jacket off and dropped it onto the bed.
‘Okay, so you grab the first shower.’
‘What?’ Sarah was still coming to terms with the time and the new tangent her emotions were traveling on.
‘Shower. You. Go.’ He was laying out the contents of his pockets on the bed, including the envelope that had been delivered to the warehouse. He had his back to Sarah, engrossed in his task and whatever thoughts he had, which clearly weren’t about his lips on hers.
‘That’s okay. I need a minute. Why don’t you take the first shower?’ She hoped like hell he couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest.
He paused the stock-take of his pockets. ‘Really?’
She nodded. ‘I just want to sit for a minute.’
‘Okay, if you're sure?’ He walked into the bathroom and Sarah heard the water run, the door ajar.
Her pulse quickened. She scanned the room. It felt so strange to have no possessions. No phone, no purse, no hand bag. Nothing but the clothes on her back. And the cash on the bed.
She reached for the bundle of money, picking up a mix of twenty and fifty-pound notes. There had to be at least two thousand pounds here. Quickly, she crammed a couple of hundred pounds into her pocket. She didn’t have a plan yet, but she knew money would come in handy.
Steam crept out through the partially open bathroom door, lingering just inside the main room. The water still ran. Sarah glanced at the blinking red numbers next to the bed. 2:13 AM.
She didn’t have long. What to do? An idea began to take hold. She grabbed her jacket from the bed and started to back towards the main door, never taking her eyes off the steam billowing from the bathroom. The door handle nudged her back, sending her adrenaline into the red zone. Her hand moved up until she found the knob and began to gently twist. The lock clicked open. She edged silently into the hall. Holding the handle in the same position, she pushed the door until it rested against the frame. Slowly, she released the handle. She stepped back, pausing for a millisecond.
Then she ran.
ChapterEight
Alex rested his head against the tiled wall as he waited for the water to heat up. The truth was, he needed a minute to pull himself together. He’d swear to any god, the kiss in the elevator was nothing more than a ruse, an attempt to keep their faces off camera and potential suspicion at bay. And it had started out that way. So focused on the task, he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of having her in his arms again, his lips on hers.
In that moment, the world had fallen away and he was back where he belonged. Lost in her kiss, her touch. The bitter ache of love surviving, despite the end of their relationship and all these long months away from her. A year ago, he’d shoved his feelings into a titanium-lined box deep inside himself, but in that one action tonight, the box had been ripped open, emotion flooding every cell in his body.
Which was the opposite of what he needed right now. He needed to focus and shut those feelings off. Stay alert, stick to the plan, keep them both alive. He knew Sarah wanted - needed - answers. They would have to wait. Her safety took priority over trying to explain himself and this nightmare he’d created.
The water had turned from cold to lukewarm to hot. It could be on its way back to cold any minute. He decided to check she hadn’t changed her mind about showering first.
‘Sarah,’ he called.
Receiving no reply, a wave of anxiety rose up from his gut. He turned the water off and went back to the main room. Empty.
Fuck!
Had she run or had they taken her? He grabbed the key and headed for the door.
The hallway was empty. His finger jabbed at the button to call the elevator.
