feared Michael for a different reason—for what he could make her feel.
Could she risk letting him manipulate her body when it might lead him to her heart? She’d drifted off to sleep with him spooned against her back, safe and satisfied. Then woken early the next morning to rush around getting them all ready to go to the airport. Besides heated glances, Michael’s only indication that they’d been together had been a hard, sensual kiss after the kids were out the door. His whispered words, “When I get back, we’ll do it right,” had set her body on fire and her mind into a panic.
How much more “right” could she handle?
Pulling into the hotel parking lot gave Taylor a good reason to rein in her thoughts for the moment. Not eager to look conspicuous, she parked her car near the front door but in one of the few parking spaces instead of under the overhang. The well-lit lobby blinded her for a moment as she entered, so she paused to get her bearings.
As a moderately high-end hotel, it was well-appointed, with casual seating and colorful artwork. Oddly enough, there were a few other people milling around—a group of late-night partiers, a middle-aged man helping himself to a complimentary cookie, and a younger man talking to a staff member at the concierge desk.
A sweep of the registration desk revealed a couple other employees. No manager, but an assistant manager stood on the edge of the group. Taylor gave her a small smile.
“Hi, I’m Taylor Jackson. I’m looking for Max.”
“ Yes, Taylor. He told us you would be coming,” she said with a professional smile. As she spoke, her gaze flicked sideways to subtly indicate a man several feet away at the concierge desk. Not turning to look, Taylor cocked her head to catch a bit of the conversation.
“ Come on, man. You can tell me. I heard he came in late. You couldn’t have missed Daniel Korvello…”
Yikes. Was he a reporter? The thud of her heart picked up speed, nerves on edge. She didn’t want to mess this up. While she might not know him well, Daniel had been nothing but nice since she’d moved onto the Korvello estate. And she knew more than most how hard friends were to come by.
Whoever it was, the assistant manager was as intent on avoiding him as Taylor was. She directed Taylor toward a set of double doors just past the elevators. “I’ll call Max to meet you on your way,” she said. The doors slid closed without the man looking in her direction, thank goodness.
Continuing down the corridor, she saw a man in a maroon vest s peeding her way. She tensed but then spotted his manager’s tag with relief. He looked slightly young to be in charge, his stocky build topped with full cheeks and longer-than-businesslike hair. His earnest brown eyes reminded her of a puppy she’d had as a kid. Max nevertheless wore a suit and turned a professionally assessing eye on her approach.
“ Hi,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I’m Taylor Jackson.”
Max gave a small, welcoming smile. “Yes, Miss Taylor. Let me show you to the room.”
The pounding in Taylor’s chest eased a touch, but not nearly enough. “Is Daniel okay? Do you think he needs a doctor?”
“ Yes and no,” Max said as she followed him around a corner. “I’m sorry for the sneaky switch at the desk, but I didn’t want the reporter to think anything was up around here.”
“ Couldn’t you just tell him to leave?”
“ That would be like admitting guilt,” Max said, a grimace twisting the boyish roundness of his face. “He hangs out with Roberto on the night shift a couple times a week. Telling him to leave would have handed Daniel to him on a platter.”
His steps slowed. “We encourage the contacts because it’s free publicity for the hotel. But that’s not what I wanted for Daniel.”
He pulled out a key card but fiddled with it for a moment. “How well do you know Daniel Korvello?” he asked.
Taylor narrowed her gaze on him, suddenly suspicious that he
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