Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(7)

Duh, who else? But he’d probably had his secretary get them or something.

Would she ever see him again? Or had he taken pity on her, arranged for her to sleep it off in this nice hotel room, and gotten her clothes so she wouldn’t have to do the walk of shame? And that was that, he’d done his good Samaritan act for the year?

She dressed quickly, feeling embarrassed for having taken so long to get out of the hotel. She was probably overstaying her welcome. What was check-out time? Jeez, she didn’t want them to charge the guy extra because she’d washed her hair twice. The shampoo had smelled so good. And why wasn’t there a dang clock in this room? She hadn’t bothered pulling back the heavy drapes to see how high the sun was in the sky because she’d been naked and changing and now she was leaving so she didn’t bother.

She quickly folded her old clothes before cracking open the bedroom door.

“Oh!” she squeaked in surprise. She’d been expecting the hallway of a hotel but instead, she was met with an even larger room.

She was in a hotel suite. A really, really expensive hotel suite by the looks of it. With as big as the room was… was this the penthouse? Holy crap.

The long wall of windows was dark—there weren’t any city lights visible, so Cora assumed it was the kind of glass that could be turned dark on command—and there were no lights on in the living room. What time was it? She ventured forward, wondering if she should call out hello or go knock on some of the other doors in the suite.

“How did you sleep?” a voice snaked from the darkness.

“Oh!” Cora squeaked again, hand clutching her chest.

There, in an armchair in the sitting area down by the bar, was Marcus Ubeli.

“Fine,” she said, smiling timidly. “I slept fine.”

She moved down towards him, still looking around. The room stretched out in shadow. The penthouse must take up one whole side of the building, she realized. There was a kitchen and bar, sunken areas for lounging, TVs and, in one corner, a baby grand piano. Everything was in grey or black, with touches of cream.

“Do you like the place?” Marcus Ubeli stood with his hands in his pockets, the shadows grey on his face and under his eyes as he watched her.

Right. She was probably staring like a country bumpkin. “It’s nice,” she said and inwardly cringed. Nice? “I mean, it’s really fancy.” Gods, fancy was worse than nice. “Elegant, I mean. Really elegantly decorated.”

Shoot her now.

To get into the lowered seating area, she passed a statue, a contorted figure in white marble.

“That one’s mine,” he commented, and she paused politely to stare at it. “The hotel lets me furnish this place to my tastes.”

The statue was of a woman, a body and thin cloth all finely sculpted. It looked Greek, and well done, but the figure’s face unsettled her—a sweet youth’s features twisted as if in some horror or fear. She moved on, descending into the sunken area where her host stood.

“So you live here?” Cora asked.

Marcus Ubeli chuckled. “No, I keep it in case I want to get away.”

Of course he did. Drawing in her breath, she nodded as if this was normal. But holy crap, what must a place like this cost? And he kept it as what, a place to crash when he was up late in this part of the city?

Or a place to bring women. Her cheeks heated at the thought.

“Would you like a drink?” He approached, and she shrank away from his tall, dark figure, suddenly imposing. But he only turned and went up the steps to the bar.

“No, thank you.” She shook her head, still feeling a little sluggish. At the bar, glass clinked and then he was back. “How long did I sleep?”

Again, a small chuckle. It wasn’t unkind, but it made her feel like she missed the joke. “I just watched the sunset.”

“What?” She was horrified. “No way.” She went to the window. “Can you turn these clear?”

“Of course.” He reached for a remote control and with the tap of a button, the dark windows became transparent. Cora gasped as the view became bright with rows of light that outlined skyscrapers, artificial and multicolored against a black velvet sky. She really had slept for an entire day.

“Oh, no,” she said, lifting a hand to her forehead and feeling completely disoriented. She turned back to her host, who was now standing, his figure cut half through with black, half in grey.

“Forgive me,” he said, and she was startled again. He didn’t look like a man who would apologize. “I let you sleep as long as you could.”

Shadow shrouded his face; she couldn’t make out any expression beyond what was in his voice. “I made sure you were okay. Someone stayed here, in case you woke. But when I returned you were still asleep.” His voice dropped and became softer. “I figured you needed it.”

“It’s okay,” Cora said, although she felt weak. “I mean, thank you.” She’d slept a whole day! And someone had stayed with her—she wondered who, and hoped it wasn’t the muscular bouncer she had seen in the club. She had so many questions—who was this man? Why was he being so nice?—but she bit them back, feeling his dark gaze on her.

“You hungry?”

She shook her head sharply, remembering the pitch of her stomach during the chase. The memory didn’t seem a day old.