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Did he believe in starting college funds...?
Did he want kids?
“I suspect that if he gives you no cause to doubt him, he’ll have nothing to worry about.”
It was Marie’s turn to hang on the line in total silence.
“A woman gives her whole heart to her man, baby. She’s an emotional creature. More so than men a lot of times. It’s in the genetic makeup. And in one sense, the instinct to bond and give all makes you vulnerable. To counteract that vulnerability, to protect her heart, a woman is given another emotion—an instinct that tells her that something isn’t right. Sometimes she can hear it. Sometimes she listens to it. Sometimes she doesn’t want to be bothered by it. But it’s there for a reason. Be thankful for it. Trust it. And you’ll be just fine.”
By the time he finished, she had tears dripping off her chin.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, young lady.” Her father took on a tone from the olden days. “I’m going to be flying to Denver as soon as I can get a ticket. I intend to meet this man.”
“Can you wait at least a week or two?” she asked him. “We’re still in the process of getting him moved in, and we’ll want you to stay with us.”
He harrumphed. And then said, “Can I at least have a name for this man who has become my new son-in-law? Can I know what he does for a living?”
“He’s a licensed private investigator and bodyguard who runs his own private business. His name is Elliott. Elliott Tanner.”
She was Marie Tanner. She still wasn’t used to that. And was struck anew with the oddity of life’s changes.
She’d been talking to her father, and he hadn’t even known her last name.
* * *
ON HIS WAY back to the Arapahoe after his meeting with law enforcement regarding his employer and now pseudo-brother-in-law, Liam Connelly, Elliott glanced at the digital screen on his dash as the phone rang.
Sailor Harcourt.
He had information to discuss with the members of Threefold, LLC. One of whom was his wife. He didn’t need the hassles associated with a billionaire’s spoiled daughter. However reformed.
Two more rings pealed. And a question was raised. Why was Sailor, Rod Harcourt’s daughter, calling him? Why wasn’t it Rod’s ID popping up? Rod was his client. And had always been the one to make contact.
“Tanner here.” He pushed the button on his steering wheel that activated the Bluetooth call pickup.
“Elliott, thank goodness. I was afraid I wasn’t going to reach you, and I only have a few minutes to speak in private.”
If Rod were hurt, or God forbid, deceased, his daughter wouldn’t need to speak in private.
“I need your help, Elliott.” He didn’t like the sound of that. And had no intention of taking on any other jobs right then. Had no intention of being free to escort the stubborn and spoiled young woman ever again. He couldn’t risk his reputation guarding someone who refused to follow his dictates regarding her safety. He’d dodged a bullet last time.
Few got that lucky twice.
“Are you in Denver?”
“Not yet, but I’m going to be.”
There was time for her to find someone else. “I’m on a full-time job right now, Sailor,” he said, watching his speed as he took the freeway back downtown. “I’ve got names I can give you...”
“It needs to be you, Elliott.”
A bodyguard worth his salt was a bodyguard. He had names of associates worth their salt.
“The situation is...sensitive. It involves Terrence Metcalf.”
The yacht designer. Elliott had let his charge ride with Metcalf to breakfast. He couldn’t have forced her into his car. But he could have made himself known to the man. Put the fear of God in him if anything happened to Ms. Harcourt. He could have called her father, his employer at the time, and let him know that his daughter had refused to get in the car with him.
