Amy Maxwell's 6th Sense by Heather Balog Read Free Book Online

chuckles as if I am a silly little ninny head, and the other man joins in. I now want to smash their heads together like coconuts.
    “No problem,” the man replies, smiling with a deep dimple erupting on his cheek. “Gotta keep the children safe.”
    “And thank you for stopping this one,” Roger continues, pointing to Evan, who has now wound his fingers so deep into my hair that a knot has formed. He is also sound asleep. Rest assured, he will be wide awake before we even reach the shuttle that is going to take us to our hotel. I believe he was a cat in a former life.
    “Again, my pleasure,” the man replies and waves as he disappears into the crowd.
    As I pull Evan closer to my body, I feel a chill in the humid air and I shudder. That damn sixth sense again.

~Four~
 
    “Mrs. Maxwell, I hope you’ll find our accommodations to be to your satisfaction. Your husband certainly spared no expense for this dream vacation.” The beaming bellhop sweeps his hand toward the room that we are poised to enter. I nod and smile as he throws the door open, revealing the grandest suite I could ever imagine. The girls collectively gasp behind me and both boys squeal with delight. Roger just grins like an idiot, proud of himself for his accomplishment.
    As we step into the marble entryway, my eyes are immediately drawn to the breathtaking view from the floor-to-ceiling windows and the French doors that lead to our patio. Not only are there several chaise lounges to relax on, there is also a private pool. From there, the white sand is easily accessible, a quick walk to the water’s edge. The sparkling ocean lies straight ahead in all its splendor, the setting sun creating a red and orange glow on the horizon.
    The room itself is magnificent, rich mahogany furniture and bright white airy walls. The overhead ceiling fans create a delicious breeze that ripples and billows the light fabric draping over the side of the four-poster canopy king-sized bed in the center of the room.
    I sit on the thick, soft, inviting mattress, delighted with its comfort. I feel myself sinking into it, the plush foam conforming to my body. I consider not moving from this spot for the entire week and catching up on sixteen years’ worth of lost sleep. Yet, something plagues me.
    “Sir.” I sit up and address the bellhop, who is currently showing Roger the fully stocked bar at the other end of the room. He is dutifully uncorking a bottle of Cabernet, and Roger is sniffing the cork.
    “Madam?” The bellhop pauses in his wine pouring efforts.
    “There's only one bed. I’m afraid this room isn’t ours.” I feel my spirits fall as I haul myself off of my favorite mattress ever.
    The bellhop grins as he glides across the room, offering me the glass of Cabernet. “Oh, but madam, that is no problem! This is the room for you and Mr. Maxwell! The children will be in their own room down the hall.”
    I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. “Down the hall?” I glance at my husband. “Roger, do you think that’s safe? Them being so far away from us? Remember what that man said at the airport?”
    “Madam,” the bellhop says, while laying a soft and manicured hand on my bare arm. “I assure you that our resort is entirely safe. The children will have a twenty-four hour a day nanny to accompany them on any activities and to stay in their room.”
    My eyes wide, I gape at Roger. “Is this true?”
    Beaming, he takes my hand and draws me close to his body. “Of course it is, my dear. How else would we celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary?”
    “But, Roger...that’s next year!” I murmur as he pulls me closer.
    “It’s an early surprise. You deserve every minute of it.”
    “It seems so expensive though,” I protest while he runs his hands through my hair, causing my body to tremble in ways it hasn’t since my boobs went south with my breast feeding efforts.
    “Only the best for you, my dear,” Roger purrs. “I want you to have the