Page 45 of The Woman with the Wallet

But I couldn’t quite shake the urge to pamper someone who so clearly needed and deserved a little bit of spoiling.

Though as I pulled into the lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if getting an adjoining room was a good idea after all. Or if the temptation was going to be too strong.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Max

For someone who was out half a million dollars, he sure reserved rooms at a fancy-ass hotel. I couldn’t quite decide if that was incredibly reckless or a real flex.

Either way, we both climbed out of the SUV, stretching muscles that ached from being in a cramped space for so long. Then we went ahead and wasted a minute or so wrestling over my duffle bag—Miko won—before making our way toward the doorman-manned entrance.

I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disturbed by the fact that no one seemed fazed by the sight of my face. No wide eyes, no asking what happened. Just silent acceptance.

Was that because, while Miko was incredibly good-looking, he was also insanely intimidating?

Miko was not the kind of guy who could go out on the street in a suit and be mistaken for a businessman; everything about him screamed ‘mafia.’

Even though he wasn’t responsible for my face and neck, I bristled at the fact that no one had the balls to try to see if I needed any help. Even as Miko checked in at the front desk and I turned around to look at the grandeur—sky scrapingstone columns, opulent chandeliers with thousands of tiny glass pieces to scatter the light around, the shining inlaid floors, the abundance of comfortable seating just asking you to take a load off after a long trip—no one tried to catch my gaze; no one tried to help a woman who looked like she needed it.

“You ready?” Miko asked as he handed me a golden keycard.

I snatched it from his hands. “Yep,” I said, popping thep.

“Alright. What happened?” he asked, shooting me a bemused look as I leaned against the wall of the elevator car, my arms crossed.

“No one tried to offer me any help,” I told him. “Here I am, recently beaten to hell and strangled, standing next to a big, scary dude, and no one would even make eye contact with me.”

“In my experience, people can be really fucking brave—running into burning houses, tackling mass shooters, saving babies or animals from predators—but they can also be really fucking cowardly too. Especially aroundbig, scarydudes,” he teased.

“Yeah, people kind of suck,” I concluded. “Animals are way better.”

“You’re thinking of that kitten, aren’t you?” he asked as the elevator dinged and we moved out onto our floor.

“It’s supposed to be so cold tonight. I hope she has somewhere to sleep.”

“She looked really scrappy,” he said, clearly trying to comfort me. “I’m sure she will manage. Last night was colder, and there she was this morning. Plus, now she has a full belly to help keep her warm.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, still sad for the poor thing. She was so small to be on her own against the big, mean winter. And, yeah, obviously, I knew that it had a lot to do with my past trauma. I just hoped that one of those people who took in strays would beable to see past the hissing to realize she was trying to protect herself.

“I’m gonna go take a hot shower to warm up,” I told him as I shoved my keycard in the lock on my door.

“I’ll knock later so we can get something to eat,” he said, moving into his own room next to mine.

“Damn,” I said as the door clicked closed behind me.

The walls were painted the same warm cream as the rest of the hotel, with those classic wooden wall moldings that the cleaning staff probably hated because each had to collect dust like crazy. The carpet was thick and squishy as I kicked out of my boots and moved inside.

Miko had secured me a king-sized bed, and I had to admit I was looking forward to sleeping in a bed that didn’t groan each time I flipped around in my sleep. The bedding was luxe and warm and, incredibly, actually smelled like it had just known the inside of a washing machine.

After sleeping in many cheap hotel rooms, where I had to strip the scuzzy comforter off because I was reasonably sure it hadn’t been washed in a decade, it was real luxury to know the bedding was clean.

Across from the bed was a framed flatscreen made to look like impressionist art with its fancy screensaver.

I put my duffle down on the desk near the windows, reaching in to pull out the yoga pants and sweatshirt that were going to serve as my pajamas, as well as some panties and my bath products, then made my way into the bathroom.

“Jesus,” I said, nodding at my surroundings.

The entire space—from the walls, floors, and shower niche—was done in Calacatta Gold marble, the creamy white base with its gold veins making the room feel even more luxurious than it already was with its walk-in shower, double vanity, and clawfoot soaking tub.

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