One Man's Haven by Laura Domino

Author:Laura Domino [Domino, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Christian Romantic Suspense Novel
Publisher: Laura Domino
Published: 2019-12-08T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sharla looked around at the spectacular furnishings adorning the sparsely populated lobby of The Ritz-Carlton. Quite a change from the worn, stained carpet at the last hotel she’d visited.

The hotel’s interior was as grand as the wall of great Ionic columns on the outside of the building. She had seen the outside before, but the inside, with its attention to comfortable luxury, was more stunning than she had imagined. She shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t afford it. But this kind of comfort was exactly what she wanted. The flowers on the table sent out a consoling welcome.

She grabbed his arm, just above the elbow, as she lifted her chin to whisper. “This place is gorgeous.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered back and escorted her past the lobby and down a hallway.

“Shouldn’t we go to the desk first and check in?”

“It’s already done.”

“Oh.”

He strolled with her to the room and led her inside. “Here is your room key.” He gave her the card.

Room key? He meant suite key! She threw the card on the table and stood by the window, looking back toward the door. A suite at The Ritz-Carlton.

“If you get locked out of your room, I have another key. I am staying next door.”

She wanted to respond, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the suite. The room sang in elegant pale hues, until her heart bulged with gratitude for this unexpected gift.

He moved in front of her, forcing her gaze upon him. “If you need me, you can call on the hotel phone—or just bang on the wall if you’d prefer.”

A small grin stretched onto her face for a brief appearance. She could accept a little teasing from him. He seemed to know she felt a little awkward.

Dorian looked like he fit right in with the grand style of the hotel. He strode across the suite, closed the drapes, and turned on all her lamps. She was grateful for his calm demeanor and attentiveness. His care for her made her feel as if he was her own personal valet.

The deep gold, jacquard chair pulled her closer. She wanted to curl up in its comfort and allow her tears to flow freely again. But not now. Mr. Whitman didn’t need her to be a continually flowing fountain of tears. Of course he understood, but she should at least pretend that she could keep herself together for another few minutes.

She looked at the room. Something was missing. Her luggage. This was the first time she would be staying in a hotel with no luggage to unpack. The heat of her face warned of another downpour of tears. She stiffened, refusing all emotion.

Though she was energy-depleted, she could tell she was reeking of smoke. Her energy level spoke louder to her than her desire for a shower. She sat on the ecru loveseat. The clothes on her back were the only ones she had or else she would certainly change into something that didn’t have this nauseating smell. Her hair needed a good scrubbing too.

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