Noble Intentions: Season Three Read Online Free

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with you in fact meant whenever the hell I feel like it , Jack turned
away from the counter and found an empty seat nearby. Not just any seat,
though. He couldn’t have his back to the hotel’s entrance. That would afford
someone the opportunity to get the drop on him. Likewise, he couldn’t face the
entrance, leaving himself exposed to anyone entering the lobby from the
elevators.
    And he didn’t want to be facing
away from the man behind the counter when the guy finally deemed Jack worthy of
his attention.
    So he sat down in a high-back blue
fabric chair. It was rigid and uncomfortable, which was fine, as he felt drowsy
from the flight and his adventure getting from the airport to the hotel. If the
chair had been soft, he might have dozed off.
    His position in the lobby allowed
him to monitor the entrance, elevators, and desk with nothing more than a
slight turn of his head. The sidewalk in front of the hotel was busy, but no
one who passed alarmed him. Tourists and locals alike, none deemed immediate
threats. An elderly couple entered the hotel and shuffled toward the reception
area. Jack looked at the guy behind the counter. The clerk looked up for a
fraction of a second, like he had when Jack entered. Again the clerk’s eyes
returned to his screen. But this time his arms jerked up and down in a quick
motion, then he stepped to the side. He had a smile plastered across his narrow
face.
    “How can I help you?” the clerk
addressed the elderly couple.
    Jack shook his head. Did he come
across as such an ignorant American that he wasn’t worthy of the same
attention? Whatever. No time to dwell on it.
    He heard a ding, turned his head,
saw brass plated elevator doors slide open.
    Jack moved his head slightly, moved
his eyes more, brought his right hand up and rubbed the side of his face,
shielding it from whoever stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby.
    The guy was tall, handsome, dark
hair, two or three days’ worth of stubble on his lean, broad face. He wore what
appeared to be a designer suit, custom tailored. White pinstripes knifed
through dark blue fabric. Most would figure the guy to be a millionaire on
vacation. Not Jack. Because while most stop at the rugged good looks and custom
suit, Jack’s eyes moved to the shoes. And the shoes this guy wore were those of
a working man. Expensive? Yes. But these shoes were designed to get the guy
from point A to point B and everywhere in between no matter the circumstances.
Mud and rain? No problem. Off road? No problem. Hop a few fences? Again, no
problem. Kick a few heads? Now that’s what they were made for.
    And they had to look good, too.
    Jack noted that the guy bore a
resemblance to the man he saw in the taxi line at Heathrow.
    The guy pulled out his cell phone,
turned away from the lobby.
    Jack rose, slowly so as not to draw
any attention. He moved to the corner of the room and positioned himself near
the machine that dispensed free coffee to hotel guests. A fake ficus provided
extra cover. The man was out of his view, but he knew not for long. The only
areas beyond the elevator lobby were two halls that led to additional rooms,
the pool and the gym. The guy had a room already, and he was overdressed for
the pool or the gym.
    The man entered the lobby, cell
phone in his left hand, held up to the side of his head, blocking his view of
Jack. Still, Jack didn’t like where he had positioned himself in relation to
the man. It would have been better if he had moved toward the front doors and
perhaps gone outside.
    The guy stopped at the front desk,
turned his back toward the lobby.
    Jack saw that as his opportunity.
He started toward the front of the lobby, clutching his cell phone in his right
hand and holding it up to his face. When he reached the half-way point between
the coffee machine and the doors, he heard the man speak, his accent British.
    “Jack Noble.”
    He’d been expecting it, but was not
ready for it. Jack turned his head to the right.