The door opened and Peter walked through.
Emily and the President shuffled their feet against the Spanish tile in the foyer of the Hay-Adams suite while a team of three agents once again swept the rooms. Their inspection happened surprisingly fast. The only part that bothered her, other than the awkward silence, was when the agents entered the bedroom. The massive cherrywood, four-poster bed had been slept in by no one, including herself. She hadn’t been able to sleep during the past two days. Her adrenalin had let go of her body at the fire—but it still maintained its throttlehold around her heart.
When the agents were gone, she led Peter away from the Queen Anne furnishings of the elegant living room. Led him to the only room in the whole suite that had no outside windows, a lady’s bou
