But he already purchased the hotel room. And she was technically the boss.
And she happened to know exactly what was on his mind...
Chapter 25
About twenty minutes later, Lacy was climbing out of her cab and stepping up the steep marble steps of the Fairmont Hotel. A man with gloved hands opened the door for her, and she swept into the lobby—feeling more than a little nervous as she approached the elevators.
He was on the top floor. The penthouse.
Of course he is, Lacy. He’s a freaking billionaire. That’s where they stay.
A feeling of excitement joined the nerves as she climbed higher and higher, watching the numbers light up above the elevator door. The rest of the people riding with her gradually climbed off onto their own floors, until finally, she was the only one left.
A second later, she’d reached the top.
Okay, here goes nothing...
A wave of incense-scented air hit her the second she stepped into the hall. The curtains were shut and the lights were dim—spotted with only a few scattered tea lights.
For a second, she merely froze. Glancing to the right and to the left.
“Logan?” she called nervously.
Then she saw it. The trail of rose petals leading from the elevator steps right into one of the bedrooms. A little smile crept up the sides of her face as she followed along, careful not to crush any beneath her shoes. That lavender-sandalwood aroma was getting stronger and stronger by the second. By the time she reached the closed door, her head was starting to spin.
“Okay, I’m here.” She pushed tentatively on the bedroom door, taking a step inside the second it swung open. “So why don’t we see if we can try to recreate some of those pictures...”
She froze dead still as the door swung shut behind her. It had only taken a second for her eyes to adjust to the light. For her to realize the obvious problem in the middle of the room. Her eyes widened and she took a step away, only to back herself unintentionally against the door.
“...who the hell are you?”
Chapter 26
The next few seconds happened in what felt like slow motion. The kind of frozen eternity that Lacy knew she would remember for the rest of her life.
The way the tea lights flickered and shook as a tall man walked out of the shadows. The way the door felt ice cold against her bare shoulder blades. The precise moment she realized that this man could easily overpower her. That she could no longer get out.
She pulled in a quiet gasp, then time sped back up again as a wave of fear rooted her to the floor. Her entire body was awash with it. Wetting her palms. Chilling her arms. Making her mouth so suddenly dry, she’d be surprised if she could speak a single word.
But as it turned out—she didn’t have to. She had asked the man a question.
“Not who you were expecting, I’m afraid.” He tilted his head with a charming smile as he took a step closer. “That’s a shame. I was so excited by our emails this morning.”
...our emails?
Lacy’s hands shook as an obvious piece of the puzzle fell into place. Of course—if he was the man standing in the hotel room, then he’d been the man who’d booked it. Who’d invited her. Who’d sent her all those aggressive messages that didn’t sound a thing like Logan.
Except...they were from Logan’s email address. The one she’d seen flash up across the screen of his phone, before he quickly ignored it. How the hell could this man have used it?
“Again—not what you were expecting to hear.” The man laughed as if he didn’t have a care in the world and settled on the edge of the bed. It was only then Lacy noted there were flower petals on there too—scattered around in the loose design of a heart. “That’s perfectly understandable, Lacy. I expected at least a bit of whiplash.”
Lacy. How does he know my name?
There was something unnervingly familiar about the way he said it. Something that sent chills running up and down her spine. There was a definite note of victory in it. A distinct air of pride. But there was a softness there as well. A tenderness that turned Lacy’s stomach.
“How do you know my name?” It was the first thing she had managed to say, but her voice shook and betrayed her. “Who are you?”
The man straightened up at once, extending a long hand. “Of course—how silly of me not to introduce myself. “My name is Peter Schilling. And I’ve been waiting a long time to formally meet you, Lacy.”