Free IN ROOM 33 by EC Sheedy Page A

instructions. "If the daughter chooses not to sell to us, you dispose of her. Her nearest relative, her mother—who I presume you're still sleeping with—inherits and all will be as it should."
    David stared at him as if he didn't understand—or wouldn't. He exhaled sharply.
    Christian watched him. He enjoyed those moments when a man's self-interest collided with his conscience. Such fun.
    David stood in the center of the large room, empty brandy glass in hand, his face a map of distaste and loathing. "Did I hear you right? Did you just tell me to kill Joy Cole."
    "I simply gave you a plan B. I'm certain a man with your looks and charm can convince a 'pretty girl'—if that halfwit man-child's description is to be believed—into doing things your way. You've done so well with the mother."
    "A mother who'd kill me if she caught me sniffing around her daughter."
    "Afraid of a woman." Christian's thin lips twisted up. "How droll." He took the smile off his face. "But hear this, and hear it well. You'll do what has to be done to get me this hotel. The time is now. This place would have been mine years ago if not for that worthless Stephen's promise to his thieving father to keep the Philip in the family at all costs." And never sell it to me. Christian's voice rose and his stomach tensed as it always did when he thought of the injustice done him. "I didn't encourage you to become part of Stephen's—and his harlot wife's—life for your sexual pleasure—"
    "'Encourage?'" David echoed with a snort. "That's a good one."
    Christian ignored him, went on, "You were there to provide me with information and results. So hear me well—I won't have the Hotel Philip slip through my hands. You will do whatever it takes—copulation or mayhem—to secure it for me. Do you understand?"
    David glanced away briefly. "I'll need time."
    "Look at me, you fool! Do I look as if I have time?" Christian dug his fingers into the chair arms, stemmed his unhealthy agitation, and lowered his voice. He was displeased with David's reluctance. Very displeased. "Just do your job. Get that girl's signature on the sale agreement."
    "Or?"
    "Kill her." Impatient with his evasions, his refusal to obey, Christian shifted his gaze to the terrace. "Do we understand one another?"
    David crashed his glass down on the top of the liquor cabinet and headed for the door.
    Christian saw his chest heave with the effort not to throttle him. Of course, he wouldn't. Christian's mouth contorted to a sneer. Men. So predictable—if you handled them deftly. As he always had.
    At the door, David stopped. "You're a viper, Christian. The most cold-blooded son of a bitch I've ever met. It must have been a slow day in Hades when they welded you together, because they did a first-rate job. From hell's point of view, you're fucking perfect." He opened the door wide, held it a moment, and stepped out.
    Christian's ancient heart found its rhythm a few minutes after the door closed. David was becoming tiresome, not as malleable as he once was. The thought didn't please him. He hoped he wasn't developing a conscience at this stage in the game. Not that it mattered. The Cole girl must be dealt with quickly.
    * * *
    The heat of Lana's embarrassment crawled up her neck, flamed in her cheeks. "You're sure?" she asked the sales clerk.
    "I'm sorry, Mrs. Emerson, but I've tried it three times." The woman's face had to be a mirror image of her own, a pale shade of fuchsia. "I can try again... or you could call. I'm certain there's a mistake."
    "Yes, but no matter. I have other cards. I just don't have any with me. Please hold the clothes." She took her hand from the large plastic bag on the counter of the exclusive shop. "I'll come back for them tomorrow."
    The woman put the bag behind the counter, smiled. "Happy to. As I said, it's probably a computer mix-up. These things happen all the time."
    Not to me. "I'm sure that's it." Lana took the useless credit card the woman handed her and put it in