Deadly Games
“And, he had used his name and come to the family hotel. He could have very well stayed at the Four Seasons down the road, but didn’t. He always stayed in Kinncaid hotels if he could. It had been so long since it mattered whether or not any recognized him, he wasn’t certain what to do about it. Ian Kinncaid. What kind of man was he that his own name took him a moment to recognize himself? They had two adjoining suites. When the concierge had recognized him, old Thomas had tried to give Ian his p...enthouse apartment, but Ian had declined. It was one thing to be recognized. One thing to stay in the family hotel. Another to walk in and assume you were home. He had no home. Not any more. He’d done too many things, been gone too long to ever feel at home anywhere this normal. Place smelled like it always did. Not like many hotels he’d been in--that fake floral scent hiding the smell of bleach and disinfectant. No, The Highland had always smelled like the outdoors to him. Somehow. “Here are your rooms, Mr.MoreLess
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