He forced himself to stroll like a tourist, taking in the half-modern, half-antique decor of the expanse. Its stained glass accents, its flower-lined archways leading to restaurants and shops, its glittering chandeliers that bathed it all in a soft golden light. Ah, the opulent life. The life he once lusted for. And to think, right here, less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d been chasing his stubborn, spirited ex-wife down these halls. What a difference a day made. Last night here in this lobby, she’d tried to give him the slip and failed. So would Jimar, he feared. Still, he was silly with relief that she’d finally seen his point about the kidnapper. She wouldn’t be facing him alone. Putting on his best clueless rich-boy act, he sidled up to the yawning teakwood desk. The clerk finished with a guest and turned to him. He was a short, round faced man with rosy cheeks and thinning hair.
