Desire And Danger 18+

Five

This particular hotel suite is the size of an apartment. Compared to my room back in Roosevelt's, the lines of wealth are way too patent between the ordinary working-class woman like me and the one staying here. But it doesn't matter, because I find no one inside, and maybe it is indeed Adrian's quarter, but he's not here.

Bright sunlight pours in rivulets through the large windows, and the panoramic view of Central Park steals my immediate attention. There's also a kitchen, and a dining area big enough to accommodate eight people. It's a presidential suite, I decipher, mostly when I see the office desk behind the L-shaped sofa in the living room.

Soft rugs caress my sneakers as I draw myself further into the suite, my hands on the stuff I'm still carrying almost heavily now. Quietly, I walk into a large bedroom with upholstered silk walls. I place the PRADA shoe bag and suit cover on the King-size bed, on which the mattress is well-draped in a creamy white bedsheet to perfection.

It must be the cleaning lady I bumped into on my way in a moment ago.

The homestead feeling slowly abandoned, I walk around the suite to quell the curiosity munching me. I find nothing of interest in the living area; just a set of expensive sofas, an HDTV, and beautiful artwork. However, on the office desk lies some papers and a space gray MacBook flipped shut on the fine marble surface.

He was here. My nostrils flare, harsh beats thudding in my chest as I breathe deeply. I run my fingers over his well-arranged papers, not giving them so much as a glance. I brush my fingers on the MacBook, and all I feel is him, his touch, as though he's right here with me, watching me.

It's the scent—Aventus Creed— that alleviates my primal attention. I only know one man who wears this cologne, and even though there's bleach, detergent, and possibly air freshener that has it beaten up to near-nothingness, I can still smell it on this device, on these papers, on the chair behind the desk.

I keep touring around until I hear some noise from the living room. My sneakers shuffle instantaneously toward the bedroom like a thief. I do feel like an intruder—perhaps I am. Then I stall behind a wall, right where I can see the entrance door perfectly without being spotted by whoever is walking in.

But I don't dare to look. Not yet.

"I need an audience with Kaiser," a pissed voice says. Shoes click on the polished wooden floor and the voice gets more audible a few seconds later. "Frankfurt is only two hours away. I know you have contacts! Tell him to meet me in New York or I can fly to Germany myself and it won't be reputable for you as my liaison."

I can almost hear my heart scrambling out of my chest. His voice is as impetuous as I remember. I'm unsure of how to proceed, so hiding remains more sufficient than facing him unprepared. Palms locked on the wall, my ass and back against it, I tilt my head very carefully and peer into his side, and I finally see him.

Adrian Castle in the flesh.

I pull back immediately.

He's coming, but I don't fret. I wait, thinking. Breathing heavily. Even if he sees me right now, I know he won't kill me for invading his privacy whatever the reason I may have, but perhaps I'll kill him instead for remaining fine despite the tumultuous loophole he's trapped me into. I feel enraged that he's living his life.

And he looks perfectly fine without me, quite the opposite of me.

"Percy, I don't have time to wait!" he snaps bitterly, getting closer and closer, but thankfully toward the kitchen area and not the bedroom. "Make it quick. I've put my whole life on a halt for this task so if you screw up I'm gonna start with you before I deal with him. And I don't fucking care whom I'm up against because I'll kill whoever blocks my path so make sure to deliver the message as accurately as possible!"