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Valentina flinches.

Someone shouts in the corridor. “This ain’t them. Our intel was wrong. Fuck. Says she’s at the Shelbourne.”

Their heavy boots go down the hallway. The elevator dings. The woman down the hallway cries quietly.

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Declan

Gave Roberts the Shelbourne. They tracked your hotel but not the room

Frowning, I text him back.

I fucking know. They were right outside my door

Declan

Fuck. Are they gone?

For now.

Valentina’s watching me. I look at her. She heard the voice, heard what they said, and she’s smart enough to know what it means.

It was too fucking close.

“Friend of yours?”

She purses her lips. “No friend of mine. Don’t even joke like that. What’d he look like?”

“Irishman with red hair gone gray, big gut?”

She shivers and makes a face. “Ginger, the cocky prick. God, I hate him so fucking much.”

“Same.”

“How did they find us here?”

“That’s a good question, and one I mean to find the answer to.”

She swallows and looks toward the window. “Are we moving?”

I shake my head. “Not unless I’m told it’s no longer safe. I had my guards stand by. If they thought they were misled and left for another hotel, we’re probably safest here.”

“In plain sight,” she whispers.

“Aye. In plain sight.”

How the fuck did they find us?

Chapter Eight

VALENTINA

The window is the only thing I like about this room.

He actually let me open it this morning. Or rather, he didn't stop me when I tried, which is the same thing to Torin McCarthy.

There's a difference between a man who gives you something and a man who simply doesn't take it away. I am under no illusions about which kind he is.