Kane's Ransom: A BWWM Mafia Romance Novel (11 page)

A minute later, their bags were unpacked and set gently on the curb of the hotel, and the car pulled away from the curb, off to the nearest parking garage. Killian walked over to the curb, picked up his bag, and then used his elbow to gently nudge Alicia, who was still staring around with her eyes open.

"Let's go check in and get a couple of rooms," he suggested.

The young black woman had to close her mouth before she could nod, her eyes still darting back and forth. Killian couldn't help grinning at her obvious amazement. Clearly, she'd never even imagined staying at a hotel this swanky and upscale before! A little part of him felt like he was a kid again, showing off to impress the girls, but he certainly didn't mind seeing her open awe!

Besides, he reminded himself, this was where he'd mentioned to his contact that he'd be staying, and he wanted to make sure that he remained easy to contact. That thought sobered him up a little, reducing the smile on his face slightly as he started towards the big front entrance of the hotel.

Inside the gorgeous lobby, covered in columns of pink marble and with a gushing, bubbling fountain at its center, Killian headed for the receptionist's desk. The young woman behind the counter gave him a practiced professional smile, and Killian felt her eyes sweep over him, assessing his clothes, his stance, his attitude, and his accessories. He kept his eyes up and gazed haughtily back, knowing that she'd also taken note of the badge on his luxury car outside.

"Two rooms, please - for at least the next couple of nights, possibly longer," Killian said, reaching the front desk and setting his bag down at the base of the marble counter.

The receptionist nodded, her eyes briefly moving over to Alicia. The young black woman was still staring around at the interior of the hotel's lobby in awe, her head tilted back and turning in a slow circle as she looked up at the massive crystal chandeliers, but Killian knew that, especially in the receptionist's eyes, she didn't measure up as the type of person who would stay here. The woman behind the desk didn't say anything, but Killian felt that he could pretty well guess what she was thinking.

"Two rooms, sir?" she repeated a moment later, verifying his guess.

"Yes," he insisted firmly, pulling his attention back to the suited woman behind the counter. "Or one room with two beds, if that's what you have."

The receptionist looked down at her computer for a minute as her fingers clicked away. While she searched, Killian risked another glance over at Alicia, wondering what the woman was thinking. Did she assume that he was just trying to impress her by flashing his money? Did she know just how out of place she looked here, with her plain, slightly threadbare dress and tattered suitcase?

He hoped that she didn't know. It would be better, he thought to himself, if he preserved her innocence and kept her from noticing the judging, assuming eyes of the receptionist.

Speaking of the receptionist... he turned back, as she coughed discreetly.

"Unfortunately, we only have a room with a king size bed available," she said, glancing between the computer screen tilted towards her and Killian's face. "Most of our rooms are booked up already. Would the two of you be comfortable in that room?"

The sound of a footstep on the marble floor made Killian glance over as Alicia stepped up to the desk. "What's going on?" she asked.

"There's only a room with a king size bed left," he explained. "Look, if you're not comfortable with this, I totally understand-"

"No, that's okay," Alicia responded before he could finish. "I mean, I'm probably going to be so exhausted by all of this that I'll just drop down on my side and pass out like a rock for eight hours."

"Are you sure?" Killian tried once more, not wanting her to feel pressured into anything.

But she smiled back at him, and even though he could see a bit of stress fraying at the corners of her face, the smile itself still shone with genuine warmth and happiness. "I'll be fine," she insisted. "Half of a king size bed is more than enough space for me. Go ahead and book the room."

With a shrug, Killian turned back to the receptionist, who had observed all of this conversation with a practiced look of blankness on her face. He couldn't tell whether she believed their conversation to be true, or if she thought they were just putting on an act for her benefit. Right now, he frankly didn't care.

"We'll take the room," he told her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his credit card from his wallet.

The receptionist nodded, taking his card, his driver's license, and then taking a few minutes to enter information into the computer. After she finished typing, the printer behind her beeped and spat out a sheet, which she presented to Killian and he signed without bothering to read it. The room was probably expensive, but he could afford to cover it without much concern.

"Very good," the woman said, once she'd filed the signed sheet away somewhere behind the counter. She produced two plastic key cards, which she tucked into a little paper sheath and slid across the counter to Killian like a drug dealer making an exchange. "Here are your cards - the room number is written on their paper folders for you."

"Elevators?" he asked.

She leaned out past the edge of the counter a little, pointing around the corner. "Just that way, past the potted ferns," she replied. "Make sure to pick the second bank of elevators - those are the ones that go to the upper levels."

Killian nodded, and bent down to retrieve his bag from the ground. Slinging it over his shoulder, he picked up the key cards from the counter, offering one of them to Alicia. "Thank you," he said to the receptionist as he turned to head upstairs.

"Have a good night," she replied back blandly, although he could feel her eyes lingering on him, on both of them, as they headed away from her desk and around the corner towards the elevators.

At the elevators, Killian glanced down at the key card in his hand, noting that they were on the eighteenth floor. A lucky number in some places, eighteen, he thought to himself, sliding the card into the back pocket of his jeans. Maybe that would pay off for them.

Next to him, Alicia finally cleared her throat as the elevator doors opened with a soft ding. "All of this is amazing," she said quietly, still looking around with her mouth hanging slightly open. "I can't believe it - I don't think that I'd ever set foot in a place like this on my own."

The little part of Killian's mind that felt that he was taking advantage of this young woman's naiveté grew a little louder, but he still smiled back at her. "Just wait till you see the room," he replied. "After that, you might never want to leave."

The elevator carried them smoothly upstairs, depositing them in a corridor that looked as though it had been transplanted out of a Spanish castle. Wall sconces lit the hallway at regular intervals, and the deep red carpet felt so deep that it muffled all sound of their footsteps. Little end tables decorated the hallway, holding lamps, greenery, or just decorative bowls full of ornaments and baubles.

Killian found their room. The key card opened the door with a soft beep, and he stepped inside, holding the door open for Alicia behind him.

"Wow," he heard her breathe again, as she stepped into the room.

It really was quite a nice room, he admitted to himself. The layout was almost similar to Marcus's apartment, with a little living area right off the main entrance, and a bedroom and bathroom on the left side. But while Marcus's little apartment had felt small and cramped, dark and dingy, this hotel room gave off the undeniable feeling of rich opulence. Continuing the theme from the hallway, all the furniture looked as though it had been lifted from some European palace, and soft light from the wall and ceiling fixtures bathed every part of the hotel room in a warm glow.

Alicia, of course, acted almost like a kid in a candy store, rushing around to explore, letting out new gasps of delight each time she made another discovery. "The bathtub is huge!" she called out from the bathroom. "And oh my god, look at the tile patterns! Wow! There's even a television in here!"

Killian, meanwhile, headed for the bed, dropping first his bag onto it, and then settling down beside the bag with a soft thud. The king size bed did feel very soft and comfortable, he did have to admit, lying back on it with a sigh and closing his eyes. He just needed a moment to organize his thoughts, to work out his next move.

A minute later, he felt the whole bed shake a little as Alicia landed on it with a thump. "Oh my god, this is so much softer than my bed at home," she announced, flopping back onto the bed beside him. "I think this might ruin my whole house for me when I go home. Damn it, Killian, you're spoiling me!"

He opened one eye with a slight smile. "Well, just remember that it's only temporary," he replied. "Even I can't afford to let you stay here for the rest of your life, and they'll charge me if you try and carry this mattress out with you."

Alicia laughed along with him at the comment, peals of honest laughter that felt like a soothing balm to Killian's ears. The laughter faded away after a minute, however, and he could feel her eyes resting on him, scrutinizing him. He kept his own shut, trying to wait for her to ask whatever question weighed on her mind.

It didn't take long. "What's your secret, Killian?" Alicia asked softly, and he knew she was still looking down at him as he lay back on the bed.

"No secrets," he replied, trying to duck the question.

She didn't let it go. "There is one - something about your past, some big mystery that you keep to yourself," she insisted, still gazing at him. "I could feel it even when you were just a customer at my diner, something that you did before that you don't want to think about now."

"And even though I don't want to think about it, you still ask me about it," Killian fired back.

He immediately knew that he'd made a bad choice. Alicia didn't make any sound, but he felt her recoil a little on the bed, as if he'd physically just slapped her. Quickly, he backpedaled, opening his eyes and sitting up.

Sure enough, the expression on her face revealed her hurt from his snap at her. "Listen, I used to be a different person, make bad choice," he tried to explain. "I don't like looking back and seeing who I was. I try to stay away from it, focus on the future instead of the past."

The hurt in her eyes lessened slightly, but those dark brown eyes remained on him, trying to read him. "Tell me," she said quietly, reaching out and taking his hand in her own slender fingers.

Killian sighed. He took a long, slow breath, letting it out and trying to calm his mind.

"Okay," he said, "but it's a bit of a story."

Chapter thirteen

Alicia watched the man lying on the bed beside her struggle for words. She saw him open his mouth, but then close it a minute later as he tried to find the right way to phrase what clearly must be a difficult topic of conversation for him.

Why had she insisted on knowing? She tried to figure out her own intentions. This man was offering to help her - why did she need to go and look a gift horse in the mouth? Why couldn't she leave his past alone, knowing that he didn't want to talk about it?

If he left, she reminded herself, she'd be hopeless, without any way to try and save her brother. She needed Killian, for not just his expertise and apparent knowledge in how to handle this kidnapping, but also for his strength, to lean upon him when she felt overcome with emotion and too weak to continue.

But now, by asking him about his past, she was putting all of that at risk.

Still, she could feel her curiosity burning away inside of her, unquenchable without answers. She couldn't hold back any longer, not now that the two of them were alone and had nothing to do but wait and pass the time.

And now, he was starting to speak.

"In a previous life," Killian began, looking down at the bed sheets, "I was a surgeon."

Alicia felt like she ought to be surprised by this reveal, but she didn't honestly feel that way. Something about Killian's attitude, about the care that he took with even small little gestures, made the idea of him as a doctor feel perfectly normal. She suddenly found herself thinking back to when he'd come to the diner. He always laid out his utensils in a very careful, deliberate fashion, and was fastidious in his manners. She didn't know if these traits were necessarily because of his medical background, or just had pushed him in that direction, but they fit his words now.