She flinched as they passed a truck. ‘It’s so wrong driving on this side of the road.’
They drove on the left in Australia. In Germany it was the opposite. It took a bit of getting used to. As he watched her an ache he couldn’t explain started up in his chest.
He rubbed a hand across it and forced his gaze away to stare out of his own window, but it didn’t stop him from catching the tiny sounds she made—little gasps and tiny sighs that sounded like purrs. Each and every one of them pressed that ache deeper into him.
Maybe that was why, when the taxi deposited them at the front of their hotel, he snapped at her when she didn’t follow after him at a trot, but stood glued to the footpath instead. He turned, rubbing a hand across his chest again. ‘What are you doing?’
She glanced around as if memorising the buildings, the street and its layout. ‘This is the very first time my feet have touched European ground.’
He opened his mouth to point out that technically that wasn’t true.
‘I want to fix it in my mind, relish the moment. I’ve dreamed of it for so long and I can hardly believe...’
He snapped his mouth shut again.
She suddenly stiffened, tossed him a glance, and before he knew what she was about she’d swung her hand luggage over her shoulder, seized both of their cases and was striding straight into the foyer of the hotel with them.
For pity’s sake! He took off after her to find her enquiring, in perfect German no less, for a booking in the name of Mather.
The concierge smiled and welcomed her and double-checked the details of the booking.
Flynn moved up beside her. ‘I didn’t think you spoke German?’ It came out like an accusation.
‘I don’t. I learned that phrase specifically.’
‘For goodness’ sake, why?’
‘I thought it might come in handy, and to be polite, but...’ She swallowed and turned back to the concierge and glanced at his name badge. ‘Entschuldigen Sie—’ I’m sorry ‘—Bruno, but I have no idea what you just said to me.’
The concierge beamed back at her. ‘No matter at all, madam. Your accent was so perfect I thought you a native.’
‘Now you’re flattering me.’ She laughed, delighted colour high on her cheeks. ‘Danke.’ Thank you.
‘Bitte.’ You’re welcome.
And from her smile Flynn could tell she knew what that meant. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes.
‘Your hotel is sublime, beautiful.’ She gestured around. ‘And I can’t tell you how excited I am to be here.’
The man beamed at her, completely charmed and this time Flynn did roll his eyes. ‘And we’re delighted to have you stay with us, madam.’
Given the prices they were charging, of course they were delighted.
Eventually Flynn managed to get their room keys and he pushed Addie in the direction of the elevator that silently whooshed them up four flights to the top floor.
Flynn stopped partway down the corridor. ‘This should be your room.’
Her jaw dropped when she entered. ‘It’s huge!’ She raced to the window. ‘Oh, this is heaven.’ She pointed. ‘What’s that?’
He moved to join her. ‘That’s called the Isartor. Munich was once a gated medieval city. Tor means gate. Isar is the name of the nearby river.’
She stared at him. ‘So that’s the gate to the river Isar. It sounds like something from a Grimm’s fairy tale.’
She turned back to fully take in her room. ‘Oh, Flynn, I don’t need something this big.’
‘I have the main suite next door and I wanted you nearby.’
She glanced around more slowly this time and her face fell. ‘What?’ he barked.
‘I thought there might be an adjoining door.’ Colour flared suddenly in her face. ‘I mean, it’s not that I want one. It’s just they have them in the movies and...’ She broke off, grimacing.
He had to laugh and it eased the burn in his chest. ‘No adjoining doors, but feel free to come across and check out the suite.’
Flynn had never thought too much about hotel rooms before beyond space and comfort. And most of the time he didn’t waste much thought on the second of those. Space mattered to him though. It probably had something to do with the wide open spaces of the cattle country he was used to. He didn’t like feeling hemmed in. It was strange, then, that he spent so much of his time in the cities of Sydney and Brisbane.
‘Oh, my! You have a walk-in closet. And a second bedroom!’ Addie came hurtling back into the living area. ‘You have all this—’ she spread her arms wide to encompass the lounge area, dining table and kitchenette ‘—plus all that.’ She pointed back the way she’d come from the bedrooms and bathroom.
The suite was generous.
She bounced on the sofa. She sat at the table. ‘And it’s all lovely light wood and blue and grey accents. It’s beautiful.’
He glanced around. She was right. It was.
She poked about the minibar and straightened with a frown. ‘There’s no price list.’
‘The minibar is included in the overall price. It’s the same for your room.’ When he travelled he wanted the best.
‘No-o-o.’ Her jaw dropped. ‘You mean, I can drink and eat whatever I want from it and it won’t cost you a penny more?’
Heck! Had he ever been that young? ‘Ja.’
‘Fantastisch!’
She sobered. ‘Thank you for my beautiful room.’
He rolled his shoulders. He hadn’t been thinking of her comfort or enjoyment, but his own convenience. ‘It’s nothing. Don’t think about it.’
‘Thank you for bringing me to Munich.’
‘It’s not a free ride, Adelaide.’
‘I know, and just you wait. I’m going to be the best PA you’ve ever had.’
Her sincerity pricked him. ‘Addie, go and unpack your bags.’
Without so much as a murmur, she turned and left. Flynn collapsed onto the sofa, shaking his head. He eased back a bit further. Addie was right. The sofa was comfortable. He’d be able to rest here and—
Out of the blue it hit him then that not once between the airport and now had he given thought to the reason he was in Munich. He straightened. He pushed to his feet. Twenty years in the planning all ousted because of Addie’s excitement? Jet lag. He grabbed his suitcase and strode into the master bedroom, started flinging clothes into the closet. Either that or he was going soft in the head.
He stowed the suitcase and raked both hands back through his hair. The important thing was that he was here now and that finally—after twenty years, twenty-two, to be precise—he had the means and opportunity to bring down the man who had destroyed his family. He would crush George Mueller the way George had laid waste to his father. And he intended to relish every moment of that with the same gusto Addie had so far shown for Munich.
With a grim smile, he made for the shower.
* * *
A knock sounded on the door and Flynn glanced up from his laptop. Housekeeping?
Or