Page 12 of Secret Dynasty

When I found it, I unlocked it to discover a room about the size of the presidential suite’s closet. The door opened to a double bed, with two nightstands crammed into the corners beside it, and just enough space to walk its perimeter. The attached bathroom had a simple, cramped shower stall, toilet, and sink. Everything was neatly appointed and sparkling clean, but it was a far cry from the luxurious space I knew was sitting on the top floor. There was a time when a hotel room this nice would have been entirely outside my means. I’d only recently found myself in that luxurious, overindulgent suite.

Which one did I belong in? The sidewalk outside the hotel as Kate? Or the penthouse meant for people like Kerrigan? I comforted myself that limbo seemed to be somewhere in between in a warm, cozy room with a locked door and a pillow.

I checked both the locks and threw the extra bolt so that no one could get inside the room. Then I walked over to open the drapes. Nighttime in London was different than the quiet, all-consuming dark of Yorkshire. At night, London was alive. Lights dazzled along the streets, cars sped by, and, despite the continued rain, umbrellas once again dotted the sidewalks as the world kept spinning, even in the storm. I lost track of time as I stood and watched the rain hit the windowpanes, its pitter-patter lulling me into a daze. At some point, it began to come down harder, lashing the glass with a mesmerizing force that I found equally captivating. The night seemed to seep into the room and with each second, I became more aware of the cold, wet world around me. I could almost feel the rain on my shoulders. I drop hit my face and instinctively, I looked up to see where it had fallen. But there was nothing there. My interest in the dazzling world outside the window was replaced by an intense study of the ceiling. There was no wet spot and no sign of a leak. That wasn’t surprising since I was on the second floor. There was nothing above me but pristine plaster. Beneath me, the floor rocked, and I finally realized that it wasn’t the storm I had felt but the familiar tendrils of an anxiety attack. I tried to turn to the bed. I only needed to spin around to reach it, but shifting direction only made it worse. Panic hit me like waves of icy water and my knees buckled.

I didn’t try to fight it as I crumbled to the ground. It was said and strong. There was something else. The floor moved again, and I threw myself forward, grabbing hold of the mattress. It tilted as though it were a capsizing boat. I clung to the blankets, but there was no anchor in the storm. It had finally found me, and there was no safe harbor.

“Kerrigan!”

I lifted my head to look for the voice that called my name. I expected to find Spencer standing at the door. But it was still closed and bolted like I’d left it. Blackness shadowed its edges like night was claiming it. Which was real: the darkness or the door? I dropped my head onto the mattress top, my stomach churning from the tumultuous storm. “This isn’t real,” I whispered to myself.

In the past when the darkness found me, it overtook me. There was no such relief tonight. It battered me from all sides until I was sobbing and soaked in sweat. I kept hearing my name called, but I didn’t dare look up. I knew I had locked up, meaning it was impossible for someone else to be in here with me. But the name hung in the air like an echo. Was it a trick of my mind? Or something much darker? I stayed at the edge of the bed until calm descended. When I was certain that everything was fine, I finally lifted my head and opened my eyes.

I was alone in a hotel room on the second floor of the Westminster Royal. There was no rain seeping through the ceiling. No violent waves rocking the floor. No person at the door calling my name. Despite that, my fingers remained tightly on the sheets until I pried them free. I didn’t dare stand up. Instead, I placed one shaky palm to the floor and lowered myself to my hands and knees. The dizzying effects of the attack lingered, even as I made my way slowly to the bathroom, speeding up as my mouth began to water. Thankfully, I reached the toilet before I vomited. Collapsing onto the tile beneath me, I lay shaking until I found the strength to draw my mobile from my pocket and dial a number.

The phone picked up on the first ring. I didn’t wait for him to answer.

“I’m at the Westminster Royal. I need you.” Then, I hung up.

Chapter Seven

By the time I heard the knock at the door, I’d managed to pull myself up off the floor. I turned the handle, sagging against the wall for support, and opened the door to find him standing there. I hated the relief I felt as I drank in his broad shoulders and muscular form. He was turned away from me, his hands shoved in his pockets, and as he turned to face me, he wore an expression of confusion.

No, not confusion. Distaste bordering on disdain. “Did they put you in this room?”

It was only then that I noticed his pressed shirt. Even unbuttoned with his tie hanging loosely around his neck, he held himself importantly. His face was clean-shaven and his eyes clear. He hadn’t been drinking. The man standing before me hadn’t lost control for a second.

Spencer.

I called Holden, but Spencer came. My heart crashed to the floor at our feet, but I mustered a nonchalant look.

“I only asked for a room. I didn’t care which one they put me in,” I explained.

“When they saw your name, they should’ve known better than to put you in this.” He peered over my shoulder and looked at the room like he’d found me sitting in a hovel.

“It’s fine,” I said, knowing that he wouldn’t listen. “What are you doing here?”

“Evie told me that you called.” His eyes shifted to study my face, and I wondered if the sadness reflecting back at me was because he’d found me through a messenger or grief over his grandfather’s death. I wasn’t about to ask him.

I had not called Evie, though. Of course, Holden wouldn’t come. He couldn’t have been bothered to tell Spencer I’d called. And if he had, it would only add fuel to Spencer’s paranoia that something was going on between me and his twin. Betrayal stung my already fraying nerves. I guess I know where I stood with Holden.

“I apologize for earlier,” Spencer continued softly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Of course, you didn’t think you could call me. I wish you didn’t feel that way, but I understand. I just hope in the future you feel comfortable coming to me directly. Is that too much to ask?”

He spoke so genuinely that I almost believed him. But which was the real Spencer? The cruel one who spoke ugly words in the heat of the moment or the apologetic, thoughtful one standing before me now? A few months ago, I would have let him in, believing him to be the man standing on my doorstep. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

“You have your hands full,” I said, pressing a finger to my temple. “And I’m not feeling well. Maybe we should talk about this later.”

“Nothing is more important to you,” he said, taking a step closer. My body reacted to his nearness, and he took advantage, pressing forward until there was no space left between us. “Arrangements can wait until tomorrow. You can’t.”

We stood and stared at each other, neither of us wanting to give. Even with the dizzying proximity of his body, I knew the last thing I should do was let him walk into that room. Spencer must have sensed that because he continued to insinuate himself into the hotel room. Each movement was calculated to look unintended, even as he backed me into the space. It also brought him closer to me, making it harder to remember why he should stay in the hall and out of my bed.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “Why didn’t you go home?”

“I had a fight with Tod.” At least, that much was true.

“I see we’re all arguing with our family tonight,” he said with a wearied sigh. “Sometimes, you just have to escape them, right?”

I nodded. There was no use explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to escape my family. Spencer didn’t know about my arrangement with Tod or my real identity. He didn’t know how horribly wrong things had gone. He didn’t know any of it, and he never need to, as far as I was concerned.