Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 73

Why did he bring her to the hotel anyway?

She wasn’t planning some pointless escape–hobbling on her injured leg, she knew she’d never outrun him.

Then she watched as he went to the front desk and booked a room.

What on earth?

Her mind was full of question marks. “Don’t tell me you booked this room for me?”

“ID.” He held out his hand expectantly.

“I don’t want it! I already have a room here–why would I stay in yours?”

Theodore ignored her and turned to the receptionist. “Can I just give you the ID number?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” the receptionist replied.

Emma stared in disbelief as Theodore recited her entire ID number from memory.

“You remember my ID number?” she blurted out.

She’d never denied that Theodore was meticulous, but his so–called attention to detail usually depended on his phone’s reminder app, not genuine care.

Theodore’s eyes flashed coldly at her comment. “Someone set to inherit my estate–you think I wouldn’t memorize her info?”

Emma fell silent.

The receptionist, flustered, handed Theodore the keycard.

When Emma didn’t respond, Theodore gave a low, mocking laugh. “What are you thinking about now? Counting down the days until I croak? Or just plotting how you’ll do it yourself?”

Emma just stared at him.

Theodore’s words rattled the receptionist so badly that her hand shook, dropping the card onto the counter. She shot Emma a wary glance, as if trying to decide whether Emma looked like a murderer.

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Chapter 73

Emma gave the receptionist an innocent look: Do I look like I could kill anyone?

Theodore, somehow reading her mind, gave another cold laugh. “Don’t play innocent. You’ve practically driven me to the grave this past month.”

Emma couldn’t help but be impressed by Theodore’s sharp intuition–he could see through her smallest thoughts in an instant. And yet, when it came to Cecilia’s tricks, he was always blind.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to see.

Theodore snatched the keycard from the receptionist, fixing his gaze on Emma. “Let’s go.”

“I-” Emma tried to protest, but before she could finish, he swept her off her feet again. The receptionist could only gape as he carried her toward the elevator.

He held her all the way inside, only setting her down when the doors slid shut and the elevator began to rise.

She caught their reflection in the mirrored wall–his arms locked tightly around her waist. She shoved at him, cheeks flushed.

“Are you really that uncomfortable?” He only held her tighter. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind when that dancer spun you around on stage.”

“Theodore!” she snapped, hating the possessive tone in his voice. “Don’t act like some jealous husband. That’s not who you are.”

“Oh really?” Theodore sneered. “Anyone who dares lay a hand on what’s mine is asking for trouble.”

“Says the real troublemaker.” Emma rolled her eyes. She had no illusions about what he meant–Theodore wasn’t jealous of Sebastian over her; he resented Sebastian for interfering with his business deals, twice ruining his projects.

Theodore loosened his tie, his eyes dark and stormy. “You’ll see soon enough–there’s a lot about me that isn’t so nice.”

The elevator reached the top floor with a soft ding. Theodore took her by the arm and led her toward the penthouse suite,

She looked around the cavernous space and said, “Seems a bit much for just one person.”

Theodore closed the door with a decisive click. “Who said you’d be staying here alone?”

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Chapter 74