Chapter Ten



We should probably check into a hotel or something, Sydney suggested. We don't know how long we're going to be here and it's already really late.

Sark checked his watch. It was almost midnight. I think that's a good idea.

Sydney looked at the map and and put a finger on a place that was walking distance from the airport.

All right. So then we'll get some sleep and then get the vial tomorrow, Sark said.

Sydney agreed.

They were approaching the airport exit when Sydney groaned loudly.

Son of a bitch, she muttered. It's raining.

Sark frowned slightly then put down his suitcase. He kneeled down as he dug a key out of his pants pocket and opened it up. He handed Sydney the umbrella that was lying on top.

she whispered.

Sark nodded as he closed his suitcase and pocketed the key. He stood up and took off his coat. Sydney started to protest when he began to put it over her shoulders.

Let's get going, Sark said as he picked up his suitcase. Sydney nodded and they left the airport.


It wasn't long before they arrived at the hotel. They stood under an awning for a moment as Sydney shook the excess water from the umbrella before they went inside.

A friendly receptionist greeted them when they walked in.

Bonjour, vous désirez?

Sydney and Sark said at the same time. They glanced at each other, silently deciding who should be the one to do the talking for the time being.

Nous voudrons une chambre, s'il vous plaît, Sark told the receptionist after a moment.

Bien sûr, she said as she checked to see what was available. Ah, nous avons une chambre avec un lit and une chambre avec deux lits.

Sark glanced at Sydney again. He raised an eyebrow in questioning and awaited her response.

Nous voulons la chambre avec deux lits, s'il vous plaît, Sydney said quietly.

Sark frowned slightly then turned back to the woman and nodded, as if confirming Sydney's request.

Combien de temps allez-vous rester?

Deux nuits, Sark replied.

C'est trois cent francs. Comment allez-vous payer?

Avec une carte de crédit. Sark pulled out his wallet and handed the woman a credit card. The woman ran it through then took a key from the wall behind her.

Voilà, vous resterez dans la chambre quarante-sept sûr la troisième étage.

Sark said, taking the key.

Room forty-seven? Sydney muttered as they made their way to the elevator.

Sark sighed. I'm sure it's just a coincidence.

I hope you're right, she said quietly. I'm sorry about the two beds thing.

It's fine, Sark told her. We had an agreement, so that neither of us would be hurt. It's okay. Sark pressed his palm to Sydney's cheek then let it drop back to his side.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. They scanned the numbers on the doors and stopped when they found theirs. Sark unlocked the door and they went inside. He set down his suitcase then closed the door. He and Sydney stood staring at the beds for a moment before Sydney decided to speak.

Hey, you know, I was thinking. I mean, if we aren't going to be—together—that maybe we could just—erm—do it one more time for—

Sark interrupted and turned to face her.

Okay good.

Sark framed her face with his hands as their lips connected. He moved his hands to her back after a moment and Sydney tangled her hands in his hair. She shed Sark's coat and her own then went to work unbuttoning Sark's shirt.

Sark got Sydney out of her blouse then removed his pants as Sydney took off her skirt. They looked at each other for a moment as if daring the other to back out at the last second. Then Sark placed his hands on Sydney's waist and led her to one of the beds.