Stolen: A Novel Of Romantic Suspense - Plot & Excerpts
Elliot asked after they’d stowed their bags—her duffel bag, his, and her briefcase—and carried up her laptop. Shay wandered around the hotel room, pausing only long enough to kick off her shoes. By the window, she glanced back at him and smiled. “Do they have room service?” Curling her toes into the plush carpet, she decided it was … nice. It wasn’t home, but it was a nice room. And it was kind of fun being in such a small space with Elliot. They’d headed on to Detroit, getting the hell out of that small, tired town. Nothing had been there for them anyway, and the only hotel hadn’t been much more than a single strip of rooms. They hadn’t even slowed to check it out. “I’m sure they have room service,” he said, padding across the floor to her. “If you’re too tired to go downstairs, room service sounds good.” She shrugged. “It’s not that I’m tired.
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