Page 29 of The Haunted Hotel

“Um, if I could just?—”

He shoves the clothes into the case and as he does, I see Leona appear beside him. He, of course, can’t see her. She peers at the haphazard pile and shakes her head, rolling her eyes.

He turns back to the drawer to get the rest of his clothes, and I watch open-mouthed as Leona calmly plucks the pile out of the suitcase behind his back. He drops a fresh pile into the suitcase as she turns and places the first pile back in the drawer.

“Uh.” I raise a hand.What on earth is Leona doing?

“I should have just stayed in New York. The press would’ve gotten bored and moved on sooner or later,” he continues muttering. By now, I’m not sure he even remembers I’m in the room, let alone expects my participation in this very one-sided conversation.

He stares down at the contents of the case in confusion. Turning to look over his shoulder, he frowns when he sees that some of his clothes are back in the drawer.

“And another thing,” he says. He turns to retrieve them, but as soon as his back is turned, Leona once again plucks the pile from the case and returns them to the drawer. “Where does my grandfather get off, saying he’ll see me and then kicking me out of his room before I can so much as open my mouth and utter a single word? Do you think I wanted to be here?”

“I think?—”

He looks across the room to me, and his dark eyes make butterflies erupt in my stomach.

“All these years and not so much as a phone call,” he hisses under his breath. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” he growls. “And where the hell are my clothes?” He stares down at the now empty suitcase.

“Mr Ashton-Drake,” I say, drawing his attention. “I’m sorry, but you can’t leave.”

“Why?” He glares at me. “I don’t want to be here and my grandfather has made it pretty obvious he doesn’t want me here either. So why the hell should I stay?”

I point to the window where we can both see a heavy flurry of fat snowflakes fall.

“What?” He shrugs. “It’s just a few flakes. That’d be considered a light dusting in New York.”

“Yes, well, this is England,” I reply. “A few flakes of snow and everything grinds to a halt, but snow on this level? There’s no chance of getting out. All the roads into the hotel are impassable, Rosie says the local plough has broken down, and the local council have already run out of road salt.”

“Well, they need to call someone to get some more, then.”

“We’re one of the more rural areas so we’re not a priority, especially as we have plenty of food and fuel. We just have to wait it out, I’m afraid. But the good news is they can probably dig us out by February.”

“February? Are you serious?”

I nod. “Look on the bright side. February is only just over a week away, and they may be able to get the roads cleared earlier. Or not. Our weather is a bit unpredictable, what with climate change and everything.”

“There’s no way out?”

“We’re having unseasonably heavy snow at the moment,” I explain. “It hadn’t fully melted from the last heavy fall a couple of weeks ago, and now with this blizzard heading in unexpectedly, it’s made things much worse. They’ve sent out weather warnings and a lot of flights have been grounded too.”

I watch as he sinks onto the bed in defeat and rubs his hands over his face tiredly. Leona is now nowhere to be seen, so I step a little closer.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “About your grandfather and about the snow.”

“Neither of which are your fault.” He looks over to me once more. “Do you always apologise for things you have no control over?”

“Often.” I chuckle. “Do you always try to control everything around you?”

“Often.” His mouth twitches and my fingers itch to trace the beautiful curve of those soft-looking lips, so I jam my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching for him.

“But you’re wrong anyway.” I inch closer, feeling a little guilty about the current situation with Mr Asht0n-Drake. “About your grandfather, that is. I should have read his mood better. I’m know how he gets when he’s stressed. He doesn’t do well with change or surprises. You showing up has unsettled him, I think. I should have given him more time to get used to the idea before I put you both in the same room. I was just so excited that he had family come to visit him. He never has any visitors. The only people he ever sees are me and Rosie, Aggie, and John the Maid. Dilys checks in on him sometimes, but she struggles with the stairs.”

He frowns. “Who’s Dilys?”

“The bartender.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t exactly come here for a social visit.”