Caz laughed and stepped over to his wife, sweeping the tiny woman up in a hug and enthusiastically pecking her on the cheek. He steadied her on her feet and jogged a few steps to catch up with Arthur, who was striding toward the front doors and the small garden between the hotel and the casino. “Off to find Maxence Robert!”
The bellhop’s gaze fuzzed over in professional disinterest, and he said, “Please follow me to your rooms.”
“Thank you,” Roxanne said.
He led them toward a double, curving staircase.
A few other men were loitering in the lobby, Gen noticed. They wore dark suits and pretended to read their phones or magazines, but they were obviously someone’s security and staking out the lobby. Gen had been learning a lot about security and intelligence agency operations lately, and it was unusual to leave security staff in the lobby all night. Maybe the President of the United States or Prime Minister of the UK was staying in the hotel, though those guys didn’t look like a nation’s secret service.
Weird.
As the hotel bellhop led her and Roxanne toward the stairs, Gen looked up,way up,to the landing that was probably labeled the second floor but was more like the third if the elevation was taken into account.
Oh, she hoped this guy didn’t want her to haul her burgeoning baby-belly up that many stairs.
The guy asked Gen, “Do you have any luggage, ma’am?”
“Um, no,” she said. “Not with us. It’ll be brought later.”
“Oh, yes,” Roxanne agreed with her. “Later.”
“Very good,” the bellhop said, his neutrality suggesting that arriving in the middle of the night without luggage was a perfectly normal occurrence at the Hotel de Paris.
Gen wondered just how many people had checked into this five-star hotel in Monaco, right next to the highest-rolling casino in Europe, with no luggage.
Maybe people did and sent their servants to buy underwear and toothbrushes.
She said, “Thank you. Is the restaurant still open by any chance, um, sir?”
Belatedly, Gen saw his nametag readIssouf.She should have used his name.Dangit.
Issouf said, “We can open it for you if you would like.”
Gen was starving. They were not kidding when they talked about eating for two, especially when one of them was going to grow up to be a giant British earl like his daddy. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to cause a fuss. Is room service still going on?”
“I’m afraid not,” Issouf said. “We can make a small exception and open the restaurant for you. It is no trouble at all. Of course, the Hotel de Paris is pleased to offer you anything you want to eat, especially if you are in a—” his gaze strayed down to her baby-earl bump and then away, “—delicate condition.”
“I admit that I am starving. Maybe toast? And some fruit? Just anything. I can eat it here in the lobby instead of in the restaurant. I’m sorry to put you out, but I am a bit desperate.”
Issouf said, “We shall open the restaurant. Come.”
Gen turned to Roxanne. “You can go up to your room and crash if you want.”
Rox rolled her eyes. “Geez, I’m not going to let a preggo woman eat alone in a hotel in the middle of the night.”
Issouf unlocked the restaurant and served them with a kind smile the whole time. If he was cursing her under his breath for making him open the restaurant in the dead of night, he did an excellent job of covering it up.
Roxanne sipped a cup of herbal tea, while Gen did ask for dry wheat toast, fruit, and ginger ale.
Every now and then, she still got a little nauseated. During the first trimester, she’d had all-the-damn-day sickness for three months and was still queasy a lot of the time, and she was careful to keep a little food in her stomach to keep that crap from coming back.
They chatted and caught up in the empty restaurant in the night-quiet hotel, enjoying just being together. Roxanne was a firecracker with a sharp sense of humor and a deep streak of honor, too. Gen’s Texas soul appreciated Rox’s down-to-earth conversation.
When Issouf was back in the kitchen somewhere, Roxanne leaned over the table and whispered, “Do you think he bought that MaxenceRobertthing?”
“Not in the slightest.” Gen nibbled the brown, crunchy toast. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to find that runaway dog. No one’s even around to question at this time of the morning. Even the most delinquent gamblers have passed out by now.”
“At least we got a trip to Monaco out of it,” Roxanne said.
