Caught in the Billionaire’s Embrace(38)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

“Tell me one more time,” Geoffrey said, “what the hell you think you’re doing here.”

Marcus had already told him that twice—as had Della—but Geoffrey didn’t seem satisfied. This, okay, maybe Marcus could understand, since he hadn’t been completely honest with the guy. But there was no way he was going to tell a total stranger he was here because he was in love with Della Hannan when he hadn’t even told Della that yet.

“He’s a friend,” Della said. Again.

Marcus looked at Geoffrey to see if that would satisfy him. It clearly did not.

“I thought you didn’t have any friends in Chicago,” Geoffrey told Della. Still looking at Marcus.

When Della didn’t reply right away, the marshal glanced over his shoulder in silent inquiry, then quickly returned his attention to Marcus. As if realizing his dilemma in not being able to see them both at the same time, Della moved to sit on the sofa, too. Marcus tried not to read too much into the fact that she crowded herself into the corner as far from him as she could get. But—call him an alarmist—the gesture wasn’t exactly encouraging.

Della glanced at Geoffrey, then back at the floor, looking like a twelve-year-old who’d been caught with her first cigarette. “I met him two weeks ago,” she said.

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes at her. “How could you have met him two weeks ago when you never leave the house?”

Della nibbled her lip nervously but said nothing.

“Della?” Geoffrey prodded.

“Yeah, about that,” she said. She then launched into a long, winding, somewhat convoluted explanation about sneaking out of the safe house from time to time due to extreme cabin fever, then about some promise she’d made to herself as a child, then she spoke at length about opera in general and La Bohème in particular, then she backtracked to something about a little shop off Michigan Avenue and haute couture, then she moved on to dinner, then Marcus, and then—

And then she stopped abruptly. Probably, Marcus thought, because she’d gotten to the part about where the two of them checked into the Ambassador Hotel.

At that point, had Geoffrey been a character in an old-time novel, he was what would have been referred to as apoplectic. But his voice was level when he told Della, “I cannot believe you’ve been sneaking out of the house on a regular basis without letting me know where you were going.”

“Only a few times,” she said defensively. When she looked up and saw how sternly her caretaker was eyeing her, she amended, “Okay, six. But that’s all. And if I’d told you, you wouldn’t have let me go. I was always careful.”

Geoffrey spent a few more minutes admonishing her like a child and making her look even guiltier, but there was little he said that Della—or Marcus—could take exception to.

That didn’t, however, stop Marcus from taking exception. “Give it a rest, Geoffrey,” he interrupted the man midsentence. “It’s the feds’ fault for keeping her cooped up here for eleven months.”

Both Geoffrey and Della glared at him for that. Geoffrey’s irritation Marcus could understand, but Della’s?

“Don’t make this worse than it already is,” she told him. “Geoffrey’s right. I shouldn’t have left the safe house. Ever.”

Something in the way she said it made Marcus think her reasoning had less to do with the fact that she’d broken the rules and more to do with the repercussions of her actions. He just hoped one of the repercussions in question wasn’t having met—and spending a weekend with—him.

He opened his mouth to try and reassure her that the weekend the two of them had spent together had been anything but wrong, but Geoffrey jingled the handcuffs he was still holding and said, “Keep it up, Fallon, and you’re going to find yourself in federal custody, too. Only it won’t be a safe house you’ll be going to.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Marcus wanted to say. He knew his rights when it came to law enforcement. He watched network television.

“I only meant—”

“I don’t care what you meant,” Geoffrey admonished. “I really ought to take you into custody, at least until Della leaves town.”

“But—”

“But since she’ll vouch for you, and since, like she said, you’re such a paragon of professionalism and a scion of the community—” there was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice when he said that last part “—I’m going to let you go.”

Marcus bit back the indignation he felt and forced himself to mutter a reasonably tempered, “Thank you.”

“But you’ll have to leave the premises now and not come back.”

Okay, so much for the reasonable temper. “What? But you just said yourself that Della vouched for me, so what’s the harm in—”

“I don’t have to explain the harm again,” Geoffrey stated emphatically. Then, to hammer it home, he added, “To either of you. Now maybe the physical threat to Della is minimal, but she’s got a big job to do next week, and we can’t have it messed up because she gets a little stir-crazy being cooped up.”

Both Marcus and Della started to speak at once, but Geoffrey lifted a hand to stop them. When neither of them stopped, the marshal raised his voice louder than theirs and talked right over them.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “Fallon, you’re going to go home and forget you ever saw Della Hannan here in Chicago.”

“Oh, no I’m not,” Marcus said. He didn’t care how loud the other guy was talking.

“Yes. You are,” Geoffrey countered. “And, Della.” He turned his attention to her before Marcus had a chance to object again. “You’re going to pack everything you brought with you to Chicago while I wait.”

“What? But why?” Della sounded as annoyed as Marcus was.

“Because you’re checking out of Chez Uncle Sam tonight,” Geoffrey told her. “The safe house has been compromised. You can’t stay here.”

“But Marcus is the only one who knows—”

“The safe house has been compromised,” Geoffrey repeated. “You can’t stay here. Now go pack your bags. We’ll find you somewhere else to stay for the next couple of nights—not that you’re going to be let out of my sight, meaning I’ll be missing my favorite nephew’s bar mitzvah on Sunday, thank you very much—and then, Monday, you’ll fly back to New York as scheduled.”