Page 43 of Disarming Caine

Chapter 15

Samantha

Ihustledthroughthesliding front doors of the Brenton Arms hotel. Twenty minutes to arrange for a new room, grab my things for another night at Antonio’s, and be out the door for Nathan’s water damage claim.

The lobby was full of chairs and tables, the bistro to the left busy with patrons enjoying food and drinks. I headed to the front desk at the right, welcomed by the day manager, Geoff.

“Got any mail for me?” I snagged a cookie and water bottle from the tray they always had ready for guests, and he gave me a forced smile. Something was wrong. Other than the shooting last night?

He held up a finger and slipped through the door at the back. The long desk was rich dark wood, matching the wall behind. A glass panel with an etching of the hotel’s name graced the rear wall.

I called after him with my priority request. “And I need to switch rooms if mine won’t be fixed within the next few days. I know Christmas is in two—”

When he emerged, the forced smile had transformed into a grimace. “The top one’s from management.”

“Management?” I took the three envelopes from him.

“Sorry, Sam. Nothing I can do.”

I opened the back flap of the top letter.

“Basically, you have to vacate the hotel.”

I paused before the letter was all the way out. “Vacate?”

“By Saturday.”

“Hardly.” I pulled the letter out and shook it open. Scanning the text, I hit the high points: Vacate, Saturday, multiple noise complaints, danger to the other guests. “You’re kidding me! Is this about last night? That’s not my fault!”

He put up his hands, scanning the lobby and other patrons, as though worried I was making a scene. “I told them you’ve been here for months without a single complaint, but—”

“But the long-term discount means I’m not paying enough?”

His brows pinched as his hands fell to the desk. “I’m sorry.”

Geoff had always been pleasant and helpful, and he wasn’t responsible. Taking a deep breath and straightening from the aggressive stance I’d fallen into, I nodded.

And took another two cookies.

I hit the stairs beyond the lobby two at a time to the third floor and walked to my room. The apartment hunt suddenly became much more urgent. Three days to leave. Where was I going to go? Lucy offered her place, but it wasn’t big enough. Probably Cass’s.

Or Antonio’s until he left again. Last night, he assumed I’d stay with him the whole visit. That would buy me until New Year’s. But I’d said it was a one-night deal. Why? Stressed, scared, upset over him fighting with Nathan. But he’d done everything else right. Tried to protect me—while I fought him off—comforted me, distracted me.

The door to my room was the same one as last night, when Antonio’s hands had been all over me. But instead of my thighs clenching, it was my grip on the handle. We could have died. I’d sworn to him I wouldn’t follow my routine, but here I was, at my hotel again, at almost the same time as yesterday.

All I could do was stare at the door and try to ignore the sound of blood pulsing in my ears.

Get it together, Sam.

A door opened and closed down the hall and I startled, my heart leaping into my throat. Just another guest. I watched her as she walked to the elevator, not even looking back at me. I was safe. Definitely overreacting. No one was waiting outside my windows.

When my phone rang, my whole body jolted. I ripped it out of my pocket and snapped, “What?”

“You alright?” Janelle’s voice was sharp, sounding more like duty than empathy.

I exhaled, leaning my head against the door. “Fine. What’s up?”

“I’ve got good news.”

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