I know this has been an update that has been an appallingly long wait. I hope you actually remember any of the story. But on the bright side, I know where this is going now and there will be smut soon! I don’t think I have ever written anything that took over seven chapters to get into the juicy stuff. What is happening to me??
Trigger warnings for PTSD flashback and an attempted robbery.
Amsterdam.
You were busy watching the people navigating the narrow streets behind the darkened windows of the SUV while Nigel and Billy prattled on about their favorite cannabis bakeries and their plans to immediately visit De Wallen after checking in to the hotel.
“You won’t be doing that,” Conrad said, eyes scanning the streets.
“I will certainly-” Billy huffed, ready to begin a diatribe about Continuing His Legacy as a Rogue when he was cut off.
“You will not-” Conrad was eyeing the manager of the Conservatorium Hotel already stepping up to the SUV to greet them, “-expose yourself to danger via countless windows and a street I cannot secure. I am sure we can find you alternate entertainment.”
Your brow rose as he opened the door and greeted the manager briskly, ushering Billy swiftly inside as Tommy followed closely, giving you a wink. Really?You wondered, Alternate entertainment? How full service does this close protection agent stuff get? With a sigh, you followed Nigel and Lea, who was speaking into her headset while tapping out a text on her other phone.
“I have the Van Baerle Suite prepared for you, Mr. Knight,” the manager was gushing, and you and Nigel giggled.
“Look at that goddamn tub!” Nigel said loudly before cringing before you poked him sharply in the ribs. “Well, look at it!” he stage whispered, “it’s got its own room and it’s shaped like an egg!” Billy has already clambered into it, expensive boots scuffing the pristine granite surface. “I believe I shall sleep in here,” he drawled, “I will emerge from the egg newborn and filled with fresh creativity. You!” he said to the manager who was attempting to slip away, “These rooms are soundproofed?”
“Yes, of course,” groveled the man.
Putting his fingertips together, Billy gloated, “Excellent.”
Your eyes narrowed, noticing that Conrad and Tommy were going through the rooms in the suite, checking weak security points and not hearing Billy’s chortle. It’s like the man was a toddler. A toddler in a pair of £15,000 boots.
