sought the offending object. Wooden headboard. Gorgeous linens. Plush pillows.
Meredith swallowed. In minutes, they’d be alone. With that bed. With the wine that already sat chilling in an ice bucket on one of the carts. Her eyes flicked around the room, and her whole body buzzed with an anticipation so thick she almost didn’t notice when her purse started to buzz, too. But the second she pulled out the vibrating phone and glanced down, all her lascivious thoughts flew from her brain and her throat constricted. Because it was her sister’s name flashing across the screen. She let out a gasp that stopped the bellhop’s speech, midsentence, and drew Sam’s attention.
Meredith saw the way his brow furrowed, saw the way his eyes darkened, saw the way his gaze landed on the phone. And she knew what he was about to do.
Acting on instinct, Meredith bolted through the French doors into the bedroom. She slipped past the bed and ran straight for the bathroom. She heard Sam’s feet hit the floor behind her. And she slammed the door without checking to see just how close he’d come, then locked it firmly.
As fast as her shaking fingers would allow, she hit the answer button. “Hello?”
A masculine voice on the other end greeted her. “Meredith Jamison?”
Sam pounded on the door and his muffled order carried through the wood. “Dammit, give me that phone!”
Meredith backed away from the holler. She swung open the glass shower door and climbed inside. Then she pushed the phone to one ear and put her hand over the other to block out Sam’s continued banging.
“Yes, this is Meredith.”
“Good. I need you to do something for me.”
“Where’s Tamara?”
“She’s here.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“I’m sorry Ms. Jamison, but your wants don’t supersede mine in this little scenario.”
Meredith took a steadying breath. “They do. At least until you prove that my sister is alive.”
There was a grunt. “Hang on.”
The thumping on the other side of the bathroom door intensified, the wood shaking so badly Meredith thought it might burst. She pictured Sam throwing his shoulder against it and winced at the mental image. He was going to hurt himself and it would be her fault.
Bigger picture .
Then the thumping stopped, and it was almost worse. Silence all around as Meredith waited for confirmation of her sister’s life and wondered what Sam was doing outside the door. Was he looking for another way in? Getting the bellhop to get a manager to break in? She needed him to stay out until she’d spoken to Tamara.
And just a moment later, she got her wish. Tamara’s voice came through the line. She sounded small and faraway, but blissfully, thankfully...she was alive.
“Merri?”
“Tami! Thank God. Are you hurt? What the hell is going on?”
“I’m okay. Still in one piece, anyway. I wanted to—”
A shuffle and clatter cut her off, and the masculine voice was back. “Good enough.”
Meredith disagreed. Good enough would be her sister sitting across from her, sipping tea and complaining about the weather. But she didn’t dare argue.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“The Hamish file.” He said it like Meredith should know what he meant, and his next statement confirmed it. “Mrs. Billing told me you were involved in hiding it, so don’t tell me you don’t know where to find it.”
But she had no idea what he was talking about. Was it something to do with one of her sister’s clients? But Tamara didn’t share their names. She didn’t do anything that came close to breaking their confidentiality, and she certainly hadn’t ever mentioned a file to Meredith, Hamish or otherwise. So that begged the question...why would her sister feed this man a lie that could jeopardize her own life?
“Ms. Jamison?”
She closed her eyes. “I need time.”
“That’s a luxury you don’t have.”
“The Hamish file isn’t somewhere accessible,” she lied.
There was a long pause on the
Meredith swallowed. In minutes, they’d be alone. With that bed. With the wine that already sat chilling in an ice bucket on one of the carts. Her eyes flicked around the room, and her whole body buzzed with an anticipation so thick she almost didn’t notice when her purse started to buzz, too. But the second she pulled out the vibrating phone and glanced down, all her lascivious thoughts flew from her brain and her throat constricted. Because it was her sister’s name flashing across the screen. She let out a gasp that stopped the bellhop’s speech, midsentence, and drew Sam’s attention.
Meredith saw the way his brow furrowed, saw the way his eyes darkened, saw the way his gaze landed on the phone. And she knew what he was about to do.
Acting on instinct, Meredith bolted through the French doors into the bedroom. She slipped past the bed and ran straight for the bathroom. She heard Sam’s feet hit the floor behind her. And she slammed the door without checking to see just how close he’d come, then locked it firmly.
As fast as her shaking fingers would allow, she hit the answer button. “Hello?”
A masculine voice on the other end greeted her. “Meredith Jamison?”
Sam pounded on the door and his muffled order carried through the wood. “Dammit, give me that phone!”
Meredith backed away from the holler. She swung open the glass shower door and climbed inside. Then she pushed the phone to one ear and put her hand over the other to block out Sam’s continued banging.
“Yes, this is Meredith.”
“Good. I need you to do something for me.”
“Where’s Tamara?”
“She’s here.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“I’m sorry Ms. Jamison, but your wants don’t supersede mine in this little scenario.”
Meredith took a steadying breath. “They do. At least until you prove that my sister is alive.”
There was a grunt. “Hang on.”
The thumping on the other side of the bathroom door intensified, the wood shaking so badly Meredith thought it might burst. She pictured Sam throwing his shoulder against it and winced at the mental image. He was going to hurt himself and it would be her fault.
Bigger picture .
Then the thumping stopped, and it was almost worse. Silence all around as Meredith waited for confirmation of her sister’s life and wondered what Sam was doing outside the door. Was he looking for another way in? Getting the bellhop to get a manager to break in? She needed him to stay out until she’d spoken to Tamara.
And just a moment later, she got her wish. Tamara’s voice came through the line. She sounded small and faraway, but blissfully, thankfully...she was alive.
“Merri?”
“Tami! Thank God. Are you hurt? What the hell is going on?”
“I’m okay. Still in one piece, anyway. I wanted to—”
A shuffle and clatter cut her off, and the masculine voice was back. “Good enough.”
Meredith disagreed. Good enough would be her sister sitting across from her, sipping tea and complaining about the weather. But she didn’t dare argue.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“The Hamish file.” He said it like Meredith should know what he meant, and his next statement confirmed it. “Mrs. Billing told me you were involved in hiding it, so don’t tell me you don’t know where to find it.”
But she had no idea what he was talking about. Was it something to do with one of her sister’s clients? But Tamara didn’t share their names. She didn’t do anything that came close to breaking their confidentiality, and she certainly hadn’t ever mentioned a file to Meredith, Hamish or otherwise. So that begged the question...why would her sister feed this man a lie that could jeopardize her own life?
“Ms. Jamison?”
She closed her eyes. “I need time.”
“That’s a luxury you don’t have.”
“The Hamish file isn’t somewhere accessible,” she lied.
There was a long pause on the
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