Their room was on the hotel’s eleventh floor. “Not exactly the honeymoon penthouse suite,” Remy grumbled as they headed down a hallway of closed doors.
“Maybe not, but it is nice,” Lane told him.
The carpet was a muted shade of mauve, dotted with turquoise and swirled with puce. Very tropical, and it wasn’t as jarring as most hotel carpets Lane had seen. Despite the busy pattern it was almost easy on the eyes. The walls were papered in a pretty, white-on-white design that looked very floral, but on closer inspection, the flowers were really the leafy tops of pineapples. More pineapples were used in displays on the tables scattered throughout the hall. There was a small area just off the elevators that housed a few vending machines—”Nice,” Lane said, with a nod.
But Remy scowled. “No ice
