Hotel Hideaway: (Soldiering On #4)

by Aislinn Kearns

  He gave a slight nod of his head, bringing Sam’s mind back to the moment at hand, and she couldn’t even remember what she’d asked. An act. Right.

  “Why do you need to put on an act?” she asked.

  A darkness flickered into his eyes, and quickly disappeared. He stopped in his tracks, his gaze shifting from hers. She’d hit a nerve. Sam sucked in a deep breath, revelling in the air filling her lungs as she realised she hadn’t taken a proper breath since he took his first step towards her.

  “It’s easier to protect myself that way,” he murmured, then wandered toward the large window that spread across one wall. Beyond him, a view of a quiet street a few stories down seemed to give him a measure of peace. His shoulders unknotted, releasing tension she could see even from where she stood near the centre of the room.

  “We all have our roles to play,” Sam murmured. Her instincts told her whatever reason he had for pretending to be someone he’s not, it was connected to his secret trips to the file room, and possibly the attempts on his life as well. All the pieces added up into a complex and intriguing puzzle—one Sam desperately wanted to solve.

  Who was this man? Surely not the heartless killer Duncan suspected. Perhaps he was investigating Beaton the same as her—it would make sense given the clues she had. But before she laid her cards on the table, she had to be sure he wasn’t the enemy.

  Or she had no doubt she’d end up dead.

  Chapter 7

  Mandy peeked her head around the door to Duncan’s office, and then slipped inside when she saw him frowning at the computer in annoyance.

  He glanced up, his face losing some of its frustration as his gaze landed on her. Mandy’s heart warmed in spite of herself.

  “Sam called,” Duncan told her as she closed the door behind her.

  She perched on the chair opposite him. “Any word?” She plucked at the hem of her skirt, wanting to look at Duncan, but not daring. She didn’t know what her face would show. She didn’t know how she felt. Ever since they’d kissed, since Christmas Day when she’d gone to his house, met his mother, and well…things had changed. And she couldn’t tell whether it was for the better.

  His mood was even more changeable around her than it used to be, swinging through greater extremes, as though he felt so much more and was desperate to hide it in any way he could.

  But he wouldn’t talk to her about what had happened. He pretended he hadn’t kissed her, that they hadn’t shared a lovely Christmas Day like a couple, like…

  Duncan shrugged, twisting his chair so he faced her. Mandy blinked and focused back to the moment at hand.

  “She definitely thinks there’s something strange happening there, but she’s not sure whether it has anything to do with Cameron Lawrence. She asked me to send through what we had on him, so I emailed it this morning.”

  Mandy furrowed her brow. “His file is pretty empty, right? It’s one of the reasons we suspected him.”

  Duncan shrugged. “Yeah, but maybe she’ll see something we don’t.”

  Mandy couldn’t dispute that. It definitely couldn’t hurt. “Does she have any suspicions about who might be behind the hostage situation?”

  Duncan shook his head. “She mentioned she’s met Erica, and the woman didn’t take a liking to her. You met her, right? And the other chair-guy? What was his name?”

  “Danny,” Mandy replied. “Danny Garcia.”

  “Do you think either of them would be capable of what we saw?”

  It was a question he’d asked her before, one she stewed over endlessly during the long, lonely nights in her empty house. Had she met a killer or two and not known it? Could she somehow have figured it out? Prevented the deaths and destruction? She didn’t have the answers.

  “Maybe,” she told him. “Erica was a cool customer, and liked being in control. But it doesn’t seem her style to do something as flashy as a hostage situation at a fancy event. She seemed more underhanded than that, and more likely to manipulate things behind the scenes.”

  Duncan nodded slowly. “That makes sense. And Danny?”

  Mandy shrugged. “He didn’t say much. I thought at the time it was apathy, and he was more than willing to let Erica take control. But maybe he likes to keep things close to his chest.”

  Duncan tapped his fingers against the dark, solid wood of his desk. “I’d trust your instinct on this. You’re good with reading people.”

  Pleasure flushed through her, her cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

  Duncan didn’t even seem to notice he’d complimented her.

  “What about the third one? We still don’t know anything about them,” Mandy reminded him.

  Duncan made a face. “Who knows? Paul couldn’t find anything, even on government systems. As far as we know, he doesn’t exist.”

  “Or she,” Mandy corrected with a challenging raise of her brow.

  “Or she,” Duncan agreed.

  They paused for a moment, sorting through the information in their minds as they’d done a thousand times.

  “So, we’re still at square one,” Mandy commented.

  “For now,” Duncan replied. “Give Sam some time.”

  Mandy’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to give her time. I want her out of there and safe.”

  Duncan narrowed his eyes. “We’ve discussed this,” he said in a tone that accepted no argument.

  But Mandy was in an argumentative mood. Her temper flared. If he wouldn’t discuss their kiss, or feelings, or anything important, he’d damn well discuss this.

  “This is so typical of you. I know you said Sam volunteered, but let’s be honest, here. You have a habit of encouraging our employees into dangerous situations. I have no doubt it’s your fault that she’s in there.”

  Duncan glared, his hands tightening into fists. “You’re always blaming me for the actions of others.”

  “Because it’s usually your fault,” Mandy retorted.

  “I may occasionally turn a blind eye to their escapades, but I wouldn’t willingly put people I care about in danger.” Anger rolled off him in waves, but Mandy chose not to heed the warning.

  “And yet you accuse me of not having their best interests at heart.”

  “You care more about money,” he gritted out.

  “No, I care a bit about money. Because I want to pay our bills and make this company a success. So we can employ and help more people. Why is that so damn hard for you to believe? Why do you always believe the worst of me?”

  “And why do you believe the worst of me?” he countered softly.

  She leaned forward, imploring him. “We’ve been through that. Many times. But you’ve never told me why you hate me for the very thing you need from me—my business mind. That’s the only reason I’m here, but you continue to resent me for it.”

  Duncan swallowed. He was silent for a long moment as they stared at each other, tension stretching between them.

  “Money doesn’t do people any favours. And you were born to it.”

  With that, he pushed back from his desk and stood, striding from the room, leaving Mandy bereft in his stark, empty office.

  ◆◆◆

  Sam took a significant bite of the panini Cameron had insisted on buying her for lunch when he’d ordered his own. It was good—and needlessly expensive, probably.

  Cameron leaned back in his chair, looking as relaxed as she had imagined him in his apartment last night. It suited him, the faint trace of a smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. It dulled some of his handsomeness, making him far more approachable.

  That strange lurch happened again in Sam’s gut and she frowned, ignoring it.

  “What’s that face for?” Cameron asked.

  “Just thinking,” Sam replied, buying time to think up an excuse that didn’t involve her libido.

  “About?” he pushed.

  “About the command structure of this company,” she lied. “I’ve met two of the chairpersons. What’s the third one like?” It was
a topic Duncan had suggest she bring up. No one at Soldiering On had found any information about the third owner of Beaton, other than they existed.

  “I don’t know,” Cameron replied.

  Sam blinked in surprise. “How do you not know? They’re your boss.”

  Cameron made a face. “Yes, but I’ve never met them. They just send me emails I have to deal with.”

  Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “You mean, they don’t ever come into the office? Pick up a phone? Nothing?”

  Cameron shook his head slowly. “No. Some days I wonder if they exist, because it could be anyone on the end of those emails. But Erica trusts them. She knows who they are, at least.” He took another bite of his sandwich and chewed.

  “They…” Sam mused. Cameron gave her a questioning look. “You keep saying ‘they’. You don’t know their gender? Or are they non-conforming?”

  Cameron made an apologetic face. “I don’t know. The emails come from an ‘F. Beaton’.”

  Excitement roiled through her. Now that was a good clue.

  “Don’t get too excited, though. There are no F. Beatons registered in this city that could possibly be the chairperson of an international corporation.”

  Sam’s lip curled in annoyance. “You think it’s a pseudonym?”

  Cameron nodded. “I mean, they could live elsewhere. It might explain their non-appearance in the office. But I get the impression Erica visits them sometimes, so they can’t be too far away.”

  Sam eyed Cameron, curious as to why he’d investigated his boss so thoroughly. Another piece to the expanding puzzle of this man. She couldn’t help but be intrigued.

  Another thing he’d mentioned struck her as odd. “International? What kind of overseas interests does Beaton have?” she asked him casually.

  His face shuttered, a dark look playing over his face. “Nothing good,” he muttered. And that was all he’d say.

  Well, that was intriguing. She’d have to let Duncan know to research further what Beaton had going on in international locations.

  Whatever had made Cameron so chatty had disappeared with talk of the international business interests, so Sam stayed silent as he got back to work. She needed to get Cameron to tell her what was happening with him. Instinct told her he was on the side of the good guys, or at least not responsible for the deaths Duncan and Mandy had witnessed before Christmas. But she was potentially blinded by her unexpected attraction to him.

  The door to the office opened and Erica strode in like she owned the office.

  “Ah, Sam, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Sam swallowed, a sick feeling of worry creeping over her. “You are?” she asked. Had Erica discovered her real identity?

  Corrupted delight entered Erica’s eyes. “Yes.” She paused, drawing out the moment, and Sam did her best not to show her worry. “You didn’t tell me yesterday you’d received a Silver Star.”

  The bottom dropped out of Sam’s stomach. Please be a coincidence. “Actually, it was a Bronze Star,” she corrected Erica, her heart galloping in her chest. Sam had been awarded the Silver Star, but it wasn’t something she talked about. She felt she didn’t deserve it—she’d just been doing her job.

  But Samantha, the woman she pretended to be, had been awarded a Bronze Star, an award a little lower in precedence. Was this Erica’s way of telling Sam she knew her identity? Or was it just a terrible, awful coincidence?

  “Ah,” said Erica. “That’s right. Well, we are honoured to have such a distinguished veteran under our employ.”

  Sam nodded her thanks, unable to speak any words past the thick lump of nerves in her throat.

  Erica gave a self-satisfied smirk and slipped from the room.

  Sam took a deep, steadying breath. Her heart rate slowed enough for her to be rational. How could Erica have known? Duncan and Paul had triple-checked the identity to make sure it was solid. Surely it was simply an unfortunate coincidence.

  But the sick feeling remained.

  ◆◆◆

  9pm rolled around with surprising speed. Cameron glanced over at Sam, who had been waiting patiently in a corner of his office all evening.

  “Are you going on another…expedition tonight?” she asked him.

  He gave a slow smile, enjoying the way her eyes shifted as he did so. She might not be willing to admit it, but she was attracted to him. It was a stroke to his ego and a frustration all at once. He wanted her, but he couldn’t have her. Couldn’t risk bringing her into his life when things were so precarious. A bodyguard was one thing. A lover? Something else entirely.

  Besides, he couldn’t entirely trust she was who she claimed. Erica seemed suspicious of her identity, and based on Sam’s reactions, she was definitely hiding something. But Cameron couldn’t figure out what. Until he knew, he couldn’t tell her about his mission, or she might undo years of his work.

  He studied her for a moment, aching to know her secrets. “Yes, I will. But, again—”

  “Keep it to myself. I know.”

  He nodded approvingly and then pushed away from his desk. He stretched, feeling his arms pop from the long hours in the chair. He couldn’t wait to be home.

  This time, they made their way to the file room side by side. Sam stood guard at the door as Cameron beelined to the same filing cabinet he’d abandoned the night before. He found the files and flicked through them. More tax receipts. He sighed.

  “I could help, you know,” Sam offered from the door.

  The temptation to take her up on it gnawed at him. Looking through these files was slow, tedious work, and it had so far netted him no useful information. But he couldn’t risk telling Sam. It was far too dangerous, for both of them.

  “No, thanks,” he murmured. She shrugged as she turned back to the corridor, but her shoulders stayed tight with a hurt tension. Cameron’s heart melted. He opened his mouth to tell her she could help, but then snapped it shut. His mission took precedence over either of their feelings.

  He flicked open another file. His breath caught. Finally, some good news. Stacks of payroll reports for the correct dates, all sitting there as if waiting for him to glean their secrets. Anticipation flooded him as he pulled out his phone and snapped photos of each page, careful to record each name, date and location.

  This could be the very break he’d been looking for all these years. Hopefully this would lead him to exactly what he needed to know.

  “What have you found?” Sam asked. Cameron jumped as she loomed in his peripheral vision, appearing out of nowhere on silent feet.

  Cameron reluctantly slammed the folder shut. “Nothing important.”

  “Uh huh.” Sam gave his a disbelieving stare.

  With a move faster than lightning, Sam leaned forward and plucked the folder from his hand. Before he knew it, she had it open as she paced out of his reach.

  “Payroll reports?” she asked a few seconds later, glancing at him in confusion.

  He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “I’m doing an audit.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Sure. And I’m Doris Day.” She paused. “Why won’t you trust me? I swear I can help if you tell me what’s going on.”

  The pleading in her eyes called to the lonely part of him that wanted help, and human connection—something he’d foregone since starting his journey a few years before. He’d had to keep his focus, not allow any distraction into his life. And now, at the finish line he was crumbling at the final temptation. He had to stay strong. He’d made it this far alone. Putting his trust in the wrong person now, allowing his focus to slip, would be an awful irony.

  He took a step forward, regardless of what his brain told him. Excitement from finding the reports still hummed through his veins, transferring into excitement over the woman before him. She was beautiful, smart, fierce, and begging to be allowed to help him. An irresistible lure.

  It wasn’t until the toes of their shoes touched that some semblance of his common sense returned. What was he doing? No matter the temp
tation, he had to resist, stay focused on his goal. But it was a useless plea.

  “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, breath whispering over her face.

  She visibly swallowed, her fingers tightening around the files she held with a soft crinkle. “Please don’t,” she said, breathless and not moving an inch.

  She shifted, and the soft rustle of her clothing in the quiet office gave a sense of intimacy. They were completely alone, no one to interrupt them, and close enough that he could feel the fabric of her shirt brush against him.

  “Why not?” he asked, curious as to her reasons for doing the smart thing—keep this professional between them.

  “You’re a client. Besides, it wouldn’t end well. It never does for me.” Sadness haunted her eyes, and Cameron longed to kiss it away. But more reason returned, and instead he took a step back, his limbs heavy with reluctance.

  “Maybe,” he said. “When all this is over…when people stop trying to kill me, it might be worth exploring this. I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t end well.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “Maybe,” she said, but really meant ‘no’. She handed him back the folder and spun away, striding back to her watch by the door.

  Cameron took the opportunity to snap the remaining photos of the payroll reports and tidy up to hide his presence. The discovery of the reports was a sign, one he had to heed. His focus had to remain on his mission. He was glad he and Sam both agreed their attraction should be shelved—temporarily at least. But until then, he neared the end of years’ worth of work and sacrifice, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything.

  He would avenge his brother.

  Chapter 8

  “All clear,” Sam told him as she came out of his bedroom. Cameron nodded his thanks, trying not to think about having Sam in his apartment—his sanctuary—alone. She was closer to seeing the real version of him than anyone had for a long time, and he wanted—desperately—to let her in even further.