Caught in the Billionaire's Embrace by Elizabeth Bevarly Page B

had happened. Not only was the place deserted by now, but the two of them had also been obscured byboth the darkness and the blowing snow. She also noted with a smile that they’d managed to fog up the windows behind them to opacity.
    Finally, Marcus pulled away from her. But only far enough that he could gaze into her face. She’d expected him to demand the return of his jacket and say something like, “Holy cow, would you look at the time? I gotta get outta here.”
    Instead, he threaded his fingers gently into her hair and, very softly, asked, “Do you know what my favorite thing is about the Windsor Club?”
    Still not trusting her voice, Della only shook her head.
    â€œMy favorite thing is that it’s connected to the Ambassador Hotel. On nights like this, when driving could be dangerous due to a mix of weather, darkness and extremely good champagne, you can just…spend the night there. You don’t have to set foot outside to get there. You can walk down the hall and through a breezeway and be at the registration desk in a matter of minutes. And, thanks to your platinum club status, within minutes of that, you can be in a luxury suite ordering another bottle of champagne from their twenty-four-hour room service.”
    Finally finding her voice, Della told him, “But I don’t have platinum club status at the Ambassador Hotel.”
    He feigned forgetfulness. “That’s right. You just came to Chicago recently, didn’t you? So I guess you’ll have to be with someone else who has platinum club status.”
    She smiled. “And who could I possibly know who might have that?”
    â€œSo it wouldn’t be a problem for you spending thenight at the Ambassador? With me? You don’t have any…obligations waiting for you anywhere?”
    Only the obligation of returning her clothes by noon and checking in with Geoffrey by nine, as she did every morning. And she always woke by five, even without an alarm, even after a sleepless night. It was ingrained in her because Mr. Nathanson, her boss, had always insisted she be at her desk the same time he was—at 7:00 a.m. sharp, before anyone else showed up for work. At the time, Della had thought it was because the man was a workaholic. Had she known it was actually because he was corrupt…
    She turned her attention to Marcus again, where it belonged. He was a gift, she reminded herself. One night with him would be the most amazing birthday present she’d ever received—from herself to herself. It would be terrible not to accept a gift like him.
    â€œNo,” she finally said. “I don’t have any…obligations.” She lifted a hand to thread her fingers through his hair, loving the way the snow had dampened it and their encounter had warmed it. “Not until tomorrow. One night, Marcus,” she made herself say, because it was very, very important that he realize that was all it would be. It was even more important that she realize it. “One night is all I can promise you.”
    â€œOne night is all I’m asking for, Della.”
    It was probably all he wanted from any woman, she thought. Because it was probably all a man like him could promise in return.
    She told herself that made her feel better. They both wanted the same thing. They both needed the same thing. They were both willing to give and take equally. Tonight would be exactly what she had planned it to beall those years ago: One night. Of magic. Her gift to herself.
    Marcus lifted his hand to trace a finger lightly over her cheek. “Well, then, my sweet, intriguing Della,” he said softly, “why don’t you and I take a little walk and find out where it leads?”

Four
    M arcus stood at the broad window of the hotel suite dressed in the plush royal blue robe the hotel so thoughtfully provided for all its guests and watched the snow fall. And fall. And fall. And fall. Fat, furious flakes coming