“Good morning, Mr. Sinclair,” the hotel attendant said, her fingers clasping the tray tighter. “I brought you breakfast. Can I come in?”
Zephyr's pulse throbbed heavily in his ears. Heat coiled in his chest accompanied with the instinct that danger was near.
His mind stirred back to Sylvia and Anthony. They had lodged here for the night. Were they alright?
Electricity crawled through his body and he steadied his gaze on the firm green colored eyes still staring at him. “Thanks, but I'm in a hurry. I'd grab something to eat on my way.”
The lady's eyes narrowed, tinted with something barely recognizable. “Are you sure you don't want to have breakfast first?”
“Yes, I am,” Zephyr affirmed. He furrowed his eyebrows, gaze lingering on the woman for a second, then he walked out. He locked
