Page 51 of Sadie's Highlander (Highland Protector 1)

Sliding into a seat that was plusher than any sofa she’d ever had the pleasure of sinking her butt into, Sadie surreptitiously smoothed a hand across the buttery leather of the car’s interior and looked around, taking in the fully stocked bar, refrigerator, television, and music system. All the luxurious auto needed was a bathroom and she could live in it. First-class seat on the plane and now a vehicle nicer than most apartments she’d rented. If this was a con, it was a damned expensive one.

It seemed like the ride was over before it began. Whether because the glamorous vehicle felt like a cloud skimming across the sky or Sadie was reluctant to leave the safety of the cozy, tinted-window interior, she wasn’t quite sure. All she knew for certain was that she wasn’t ready when Jarvis opened the door and stood waiting for them to emerge.

“The Dulcet,” Miss Martha said, then pursed her lips, her gaze locked on the gold lettering emblazoned across the hotel’s canopy. “Never heard of it.”

Jarvis closed the door of the limo and motioned for them to proceed up the pristine crimson carpet leading to the entrance of the hotel. “The Dulcet is a very exclusive hotel owned by The DBS Agency.”

A traditionally uniformed doorman, decked out in full gold braiding, white gloves, and top hat, held the door open with a coolly professional smile. “Welcome to The Dulcet,” he said with a polite bow.

Sadie felt like she was floating through the best dream she’d ever had in her life. The only way it could be any better was if that dull ache where her heart used to be would finally ease up a bit. A sigh escaped her and she tried not to think about how perfect this would’ve been if Alec had been at her side.

“I know. It’s breathtaking.” Miss Martha hugged Sadie’s arm and excitedly patted her hand.

Miss Martha was right. The hotel lobby would make any interior designer drool. Marble floors. Lush fabrics and furniture. Artwork and floral arrangements that looked as though this season’s design style had been inspired by the hotel itself.

Jarvis led them to the front desk and nodded toward the smiling matron behind it. “This is Francine. As supervisor of The Dulcet’s guest services, she’ll personally see to it that your suite of rooms has anything and everything you might require before you even know you require it.”

“Welcome to The Dulcet.” Francine’s pleasant voice was barely loud enough to be heard above the strains of Vivaldi softly floating through the lobby. She had an accent Sadie couldn’t quite pick out. Not really French. Not Italian. Just a slight lilting of her words that left the impression that the athletically thin uniformed woman could easily be some sort of foreign spy.

A spy. Right. I am losing my mind.Sadie nodded to Francine. “Thank you. The Dulcet is lovely. I’m sure we’re going to enjoy our stay.”

“I’m certain you will and if you should need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I’ll see to it that whatever you require is promptly provided.” Francine held up a small black notebook that looked as padded and plush as the rest of the hotel. “You’ll find your room keys in here, as well as a listing of any phone numbers you might need and the hotel amenities available to you.” She handed the book over to Jarvis with a pert nod. “Their luggage should be in their rooms by now, but I assume you’d prefer to escort them?”

“You assume correctly, Francine, as is your usual professional perception.” Jarvis accepted the notebook, tucked it under one arm, and motioned with his hat to a set of large doors inlaid with scrollwork panels of mother-of-pearl and intricately curled and hammered metalwork. “Ladies—if you’ll follow me, please?”

As soon as they neared the doors, the panels slid open with a shushing whisper. Jarvis stood to the side of the opened door and motioned to the leather settee at the back of the elevator. “Ladies.”

“A couch in an elevator.” Miss Martha hurried in and lowered herself down into the depths of the rich burgundy Victorian-era wingback sofa. “Whoever heard of such? Is it gonna be that long a ride?”

Sadie bit the inside of her cheek but didn’t bother saying anything as she slid into place on the seat beside Miss Martha.I give up. There’s no muffling her.Instead, she just smiled up at Jarvis as he unlocked a door in the walnut-paneled wall, inserted another key, and turned it. “No buttons, huh?”

“No, miss,” he replied, as he kept his hand on the key, staring down at the floor and frowning in concentration as though silently counting the quiet pings coming from a tiny speaker inside the box. After they’d ridden for nearly a minute, he turned to Miss Martha with a reassuring smile. “It takes a bit to get to the top floor.”

Miss Martha elbowed Sadie, then loudly whispered, “Top floor. Penthouse suite. I told you this wasn’t a scam!”

Sadie held her breath. There was no way in hell Jarvis couldn’t have heard every word, but if he did, he didn’t react. Time to chatter so Miss Martha couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “So…do you work for the DBS Agency too?”

Without looking at her, Jarvis answered. “Yes, mum. I’ve been with them quite some time.”

“Have you met lots of stars?” Miss Martha jumped into the conversation.

So much for a conversation without Miss Martha.“He probably can’t say who their clients are. They have to be discreet.” Sadie shot Jarvis an apologetic roll of her eyes.

“Oh, bull!” Miss Martha leaned forward like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. “Come on, Jarvis. We won’t tell anybody. Spill something juicy.”

Before Miss Martha could interrogate Jarvis any further, the elevator came to a stop and the doors whooshed open. The still silent man removed the floor key, closed the small door in the elevator wall, and locked it. He turned to them both with a broad smile and waved his bowler to the wonderland waiting beyond the doors. “Here we are, ladies. Your suite. I do hope it meets with your every need.”

They eased out of the elevator into a marble-floored foyer big enough to hold a long hallway table filled with flowers and magazines. Beside the table was a vintage French round-backed chair and a brass umbrella stand. A set of white double doors stood slightly ajar. Jarvis pushed the doors open wider and stepped aside.

Sinking into the creamy white carpet, Sadie stopped halfway into the room. Lilies. Everywhere. She drew in a deep breath, slowly turning in a semicircle, taking in the expanse of the lush, sweet-smelling sitting room. How had they managed to find so many lilies at this time of year? And her favorite ones—the pinkish-white lilies that smelled so light and sweet. And how had the agency known to choose them?

“I love lilies.” Sadie bent closer to one of the vases of fragrant flowers, cradling her hand against the velvety petals as she pulled in another deep whiff. “They’re my favorite flower.”

Jarvis didn’t respond, just looked down at the floor with a barely discernible smile.

“Sadie—come here!” Miss Martha’s excited voice echoed from somewhere beyond a wide archway leading into what looked like a small formal dining area complete with a rich mahogany table laid out with delicate china and crystal place settings. “In here! You’ve got to see this.”

“Miss?” Jarvis called out to her before she passed through the archway.

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