He knew from Felix that she had extended her stay in London indefinitely. That was good. The longer they were here in the Savoy, the better. He felt closer to her and was better able to keep tabs on her.
Given the way he’d seen the hotel’s head of security watching her ass, once he was through, he’d have to make it clear to him that while he appreciated all the man had done for her, Sage Matthews was off-limits.
Holmes had managed to keep the Yard out of it officially but had spoken more than once with the Sheriff’s Office. He worried Sage was starting to get too comfortable. If someone meant to do something to her, her inattention could get her hurt… or killed.
“Aaarrrgghhh!” Sage said, pushing away from the desk and standing.
Stretching, she pulled off her robe—she really had the most voluptuous figure. He wanted nothing more than to get his hands on her in the flesh, so to speak. She’d been shopping the day before and had picked up some better lingerie. The bras were fine, but she would soon learn panties were a thing of her past. Grabbing a bra, leggings, and a sweater, Sage got dressed. Had she been at home, she’d have cranked up the music and just danced and sang until she was so tired she could go to sleep or inspiration hit her, which would lead to her writing for several hours. She pulled on her pair of red, LL Bean, fur-lined slippers and headed out of her room.
Where the hell did she think she was going this time of night?
Sage began wandering the common areas and halls in search of inspiration, finding none.
“Excuse me, Ms. Matthews, may I be of assistance?” the night-time concierge asked, a pretty blonde with long hair she most often wore in a French braid.
Caught up in her own musings, Sage was startled. “No, thanks, Corinne. I just can’t sleep, and Roark’s being difficult. I keep hoping if I wander his home turf, so to speak, something will come to me.”
“I can’t tell you how many of us love your books and Roark. We often think we spot little glimpses of him now and again… as do guests.”
Sage laughed. “Really? Like he’s haunting the place?”
“Not such a far-fetched idea. The Savoy has several resident ghosts. We like to think Roark would keep us safe from any and all of them if they decided to do anything unseemly. Perhaps if he’d been here, the little girl who haunts the fifth floor wouldn’t have died so mysteriously. Then there’s the wailing woman. Trudy from the front desk now swears it’s because she’s done something naughty, and Roark has her over his knee.”
Sage laughed as Corinne fell in beside her, escorting her into some of the back areas where guests were normally not allowed. She was finding her excellent company as they meandered through some of the grand halls and rooms of the luxurious hotel.
“Did Richard Harris really live here?”
“Oh, yes, Miss. He had become a favorite of the staff, always a kind word or a way of making people laugh. He was quite sick with Hodgkin’s Disease. Felix swears when they wheeled him out on the gurney to the ambulance, he called to the onlookers, ‘It was the food! Don’t touch the food!’”
Sage laughed.
“We’ve had several well-known individuals who chose to stay with us permanently and are vaunted for our Writer in Residence program. Have you thought about staying on with us? I know upper management would be thrilled.”
“Really?” Sage turned and looked at the young woman, the barest glimmer of an idea beginning to tickle her brain. “Given what I write? I mean, I know the books are popular, but they aren’t exactly great literature.”
“Says who? They might not be stuffy, but they’re fun and exciting, and you always present the hotel in a wonderful light. I overheard one of them say they couldn’t buy that kind of good press.”
Sage grinned. “Do you think you could arrange that for me? Maybe for the next few months?”
“That would be lovely, and I’d be delighted to help. If you’re planning to write, I’ll have an ergonomic desk chair brought up to your suite and can arrange for either a larger monitor or an entire desktop computer.”
“No, no… I love my laptop’s keyboard, but a large monitor would help with the eyestrain. A really comfy chair for writing and a small printer would be great.”
“I’ll see that they are set up for you tomorrow. What are you working on?”
“I’m trying to finish the last Roark Samuels’ novel…”
“Last? Oh, please don’t kill him off. If you don’t want to write them anymore, at least give him a happy ending…”
“Corinne, haven’t you been paying attention? Roark always gets a happy ending,” Sage teased.
Corinne giggled. “Right you are and just as he should, but make him fall in love… really in love, and get his own happily ever after. Felix says you’ve been taking tours. Have you been to the British Museum?”
“Not yet.”
“Why don’t you let me arrange a personal guided tour while we get your room set up for you? We’ll make the necessary changes to accommodate your personal preferences while you’re out. If you make note of what you’d like us to stock in the room for you, we’ll ensure you have everything you need.”
“That would be wonderful. If I could ask you to not put through Ms. Vincent’s calls, I’d be most appreciative.”
“That won’t be a problem. Felix and Gabe told everyone how nasty she was to you, and we all decided we don’t like her. Have you checked your messages? Trudy says word is out you’ve left Ms. Vincent’s firm, and there are several publishers trying to reach you.”
“Really?” Sage asked, astonished. “I knew several people heard at the signing event, and I have their
