CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A knock on the suite door disturbed Steel from his work at the murder board he had created. The magnetic whiteboard the concierge had arranged to bring up from a conference room was perfect for what Steel needed.
Steel answered the door with his shirt half undone and untucked. It was Sarah from the reception desk. She stood next to a brass waiter’s trolley supporting two glasses, the bottle of Dom on ice in a champagne bucket, a big bowl of fresh strawberries and a small pitcher of cream.
‘I didn’t think it was coming,’ Steel said with a raised eyebrow, noting the hungry look in her eyes.
‘Sorry for the wait, sir; the timing wasn’t right,’ Sarah explained with a cheeky smile.
‘For the champagne?’
‘No, the end of the shift,’ Sarah purred, pushing the trolley into t
