Page 88 of The Spider Queen
We all had secrets, only mine were all out in the open.
WhowasHunter?
He took the card back and put it in his wallet, glancing over his shoulder at me. His expression was bland.
“I’m still me, Poppy,” he said as we made our way to the elevators. “I’m still the man who slept next to you so you wouldn’t worry about sleepwalking. I’m still the man who came for you in the hospital. Money doesn’t change that.”
“But it does change other things,” I pointed out.
“Sure. Money makes things easier. It gives you choices, opens doors, buys freedom.”
That was all true.
“Have I ever acted like a rich, privileged kid?”
“No, actually. You haven’t.”
We rode the elevator in silence to the thirteenth floor, and when the elevators opened, we stepped out onto white carpet.
This was a luxury hotel. Only luxury hotels had white carpet—it screamed money. White was easily soiled, and needed cleaning and replacing often. The walls were a chalky gray and the art was modern black and white photography, with scenes of lovers in different stages of undress. The photos were erotic and beautiful.
“This is a really unique hotel,” I said.
“The Rex is known for being different.”
We continued down the long hallway until we arrived at the last door in the corner. Hunter waved his keycard in front of the lock and it unlatched. He pushed open the door and let me in first.
I flicked on the light and caught my breath. Sheer opulence—the king-sized, four-poster bed, the red and black masculine décor.
I felt like I was in a place for sin.
“Wow,” I said, moving through the room.
The washroom was just as lavish. Huge tub, a separate shower, two sinks, and the finest toiletries money could buy.
Hunter fiddled with a knob on the wall next to the light switch. “Heated floors.” He winked.
“No.”
“And heated towel racks.”
“Damn, this place goes all out.”
“When I travel, I prefer to stay in Rex Hotels. They’re well worth the price.”
“Clearly.”
“Take a shower. Or a bath. When you’re done, we’ll talk.”
“Talk. Right.” I felt the anger seep out of me. I could’ve held onto it, but what was the point? Hunter had been there for me when I’d needed him. So he’d kept things from me? I’d kept things from him. Maybe if I’d opened up sooner, he would’ve told me what I’d wanted to know.
“I don’t trust easily,” I admitted, “but you already know that.”
“I do. What does that—”
“I look for reasons to push people away.”
His face cleared of confusion. “Ah.”
