Stop Me (Last Stand #2)(68)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Have there been any murders reported on the news?” Jasmine asked.

The girl straightened in surprise. “Murders?”

“Have you heard anything about a woman being stabbed to death last night?”

Her eyes widened. “Here at the hotel?”

“Anywhere in New Orleans.”

“N-no,” she said. “But we were afraid something had happened to you. When the maid went in to clean your room yesterday, she found it torn apart. My mom tried to call you at the cell phone number we have on file, but you weren’t picking up and no one had seen you. We thought you might’ve been attacked.”

“Did you call the police?” Romain asked.

She smiled at him. “We did. They tried to tell us it was too soon to report Ms.

Stratford missing, that she could be sightseeing or visiting friends. We would’ve figured that,” she said defensively. “I mean, most people don’t hang out in a hotel room on Christmas Day. But the mess…” She turned back to Jasmine. “It didn’t look like anything you’d done. It looked like someone ransacked the place.”

“Someone did ransack the place,” she said.

The girl’s expression revealed a measure of vindication. “I thought so! Should I call the police again?”

“I’ll do it,” Jasmine told her. “But first, tell me the maid didn’t clean my room.”

“No. The police told my mother to leave it, just in case.”

Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to determine if there was any evidence that might lead to the intruder’s identity. As much as she tried to tell herself it had to be the same man who’d abducted Kimberly and haunted her dreams last night, something didn’t feel right about that supposition. The man with the mask had a different kind of motivation. She could tell by the utility of his actions, and the intent she’d sensed as he chased her. He’d wanted to stop her, to end her life, but it was for practical reasons, not to appease a grudge or feed some impulse he couldn’t control.

“I’m going to need a new key,” she said.

“No problem.” The girl created the replacement and passed it over the counter.

“We’ll be happy to move you to a different room, if you want.”

“There’s no need. She’ll be checking out today,” Romain said.

Jasmine looked up at him. She was finished with Maison du Soleil, but she hadn’t mentioned it yet. “Excuse me?”

“You’re leaving us?” the girl burst out before Romain could respond.

“She’s moving to Portsville,” he said firmly.

“Not Portsville,” she corrected. “Just another location here in New Orleans.”

She couldn’t go back to the little motel hanging over the bayou or she’d end up spending all her nights with Romain. “Have there been any messages for me?”

“I almost forgot. You have quite a few. That’s another reason we were so concerned.” She reached beneath the desk and handed Jasmine a small stack of papers.

Jasmine flipped through them. Three were from Skye. “Call me…Where the heck are you?…The money should be there. Did you get it?” Four were from Sheridan. “Why aren’t you answering your cell?…Aren’t you even going to wish me a Merry Christmas?…Are you okay?…I should never have let you go down there alone!” And the last was from her father. “A woman named Sheridan called here, asking for you. Why didn’t you tell me you were in the South?”

“Shit,” she muttered, staring at it.

“What is it?” Romain asked.

She shoved the messages into the pocket of the jeans he’d borrowed for her yesterday and moved toward the elevator. “Nothing.”

“Was one of those from the guy who broke into your room?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s…nothing.”

He pressed the call button for the elevator. “Tell me.”

“My best friend just informed my father that I’m in town, that’s all.”

“And that’s bad news?”

The antique elevator doors cranked open, two people got off and she stepped inside. “If I wanted to see him, I would’ve spent Christmas with him instead of making a fool of myself at your parents’ place.”

“They liked you.”

She pushed the button for the third floor and the doors closed. “Because they thought we had something going. They want you to get married again, have babies, be happy. They wouldn’t have been too thrilled to know we’ve been fooling around for the sake of fooling around.”

“Is that what we’ve been doing?” he asked dryly.

The way he set his jaw indicated a stronger emotional response than the one he gave, but Jasmine ignored it. “Basically.”

“Thank God you didn’t say that.”

“I should’ve at least told them there’s nothing between us.”

“You did. You said we didn’t even like each other.”

“I don’t think anyone believed me.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure they could tell it wasn’t quite like that. As a matter of fact, we need to find a store. We’re out of condoms, remember?”

She raised a hand. “We don’t need more. It happened. It’s over. We’re forgetting it.”

The elevator stopped and the old doors opened again. “What if I don’t want to forget it?” he challenged.

She rubbed a weary hand over her face. “I already have.”

With a slightly cocky expression, he watched her from beneath his lashes as they found her door. “Am I supposed to believe you after the way you kissed me in that bathroom?”

“You had me at a disadvantage.”

He moved up close behind her, spoke into her ear. “Your only disadvantage is that you liked it as much as I did.”

Jasmine’s stomach lifted as if she was still on the elevator, so she stepped away. “Do we have to talk about it?”

He leaned one shoulder against the wall, blocking her door. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?” she retorted.

“Not a bit. I like talking about it. I could talk about it all day. But if you don’t, we could discuss your father instead.”

She rolled her eyes. “How many times did we make love again? What did you like best about it? What was that little French thing you said?”