Playing for Keeps. Catherine Mann
shambles, she couldn’t even pretend to be composed. “There’s a black rose in my car—completely creepy. I don’t know how it got there since I locked up this morning. I know I did, because I had to use my key fob to get in.”
“We call the cops, now.”
She shook her head, nudging his hand aside. “The police chief will write it up and say I’m paranoid about some disgruntled students.”
The old chief would make veiled references to mental instability in her past, something her father had tried to keep under wraps. Few knew. Still, for them, a stigma lingered. Unfair—not to mention dangerous since she wasn’t being taken seriously.
From the thunderclouds gathering in Malcolm’s eyes, he was definitely taking her seriously. He clasped her shoulders in broad, warm hands, gently urging her to the side and into the long shadows of his bodyguards. Malcolm strode past her to the sedan, looking first at the rose, then kneeling to peer under the car.
For a bomb or something?
She swallowed hard, stepping back. “Malcolm, let’s just call the police after all. Please, get away from my car.”
Standing, he faced her again, casting a tall and broad-shouldered shadow over her in a phantom caress. “We’re in agreement on that.” He charged forward and clasped her arm, the calluses on his fingers rasping against her skin. “Let’s go.”
“Did you see something under there?”
“No, but I haven’t looked under the hood. I’m getting you out of here while my men make sure it’s safe before the rest of the school comes pouring out.”
The rest of the school? The sound of the children playing ball in the distance struck fear in her gut. The faces of her teacher friends and students scrolled through her head. To put an entire school in harm’s way? She couldn’t fathom whoever was threatening her would risk drawing this much attention—would risk this many lives. But there was definitely something more sinister about this latest threat, and that rattled her.
Malcolm tugged her farther from the vehicle.
“Where are we going?” She looked back over her shoulder at the redbrick building with the flags flapping in the wind. “I need to warn everyone.”
“My bodyguards are already taking care of that,” he reassured her. “We’re going to my limo. It has reinforced windows and an armor-plated body. We can talk there and figure out your next move.”
Reinforced windows? Armor plating? Security in front and behind? He truly did have all the money he’d once dreamed of, access to resources beyond her own local law enforcement. Enough resources to protect her from all threats, real or imagined.
She shivered in apprehension and didn’t bother denying herself the comforting protection of Malcolm’s presence all the way to his stretch Cadillac.
Malcolm stopped seeing red once he had Celia tucked into the safety of his armored limousine and the chauffer was headed for her home.
Two of his bodyguards had stayed with her vehicle to wait for the police—and report the details back to him without the filter of local authorities. He didn’t think there was anything else wrong with her vehicle, but better to be certain and put all of his financial resources to work. He’d done all he could for now to make sure Celia and the school weren’t in danger.
He scrolled through messages on his cell phone for updates from his security detail, all too aware of the warm presence of Celia in the seat beside him. Once he had her safely settled, he would work with his contacts to find substantial proof to nail that drug-dealing bastard Martin for these threats. Malcolm had taken the fall for a drug-dealing scumbag in return for them leaving his mother alone. He hadn’t known who to turn to then.
He wasn’t a flat-broke teenager anymore. He had the resources and power to be there for Celia now in a way he hadn’t before. Maybe then he could finally forgive himself for letting her down.
As they drove down the azalea-lined Main Street, he felt the weight of her glare.
Malcolm tucked away his phone and gave her his undivided attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Something that just occurred to me. Did you put that flower in my car to scare me so I would come with you?” She stared at him suspiciously.
“You can’t possibly believe that.”
“I don’t know what I believe right now. I haven’t seen you in nearly two decades. And the day you show up, offering to protect me, this happens. The thought that they were here, at the school, near my students …” Gasping for air, she grabbed her knees and leaned forward. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
He palmed between her shoulder blades, holding himself back from the urge to gather her close, just to touch her again. “You know me. You know how much I wanted to take care of you before. You of all people know how much it frustrated me that my dad wasn’t there to take care of my mom. Now, ask me again if I put the rose in your car?”
Sweeping her hair aside with her hands, she eyed him, her breath still shallow. “Okay, I believe you, and I’m sorry. Although a part of me wishes you had done it because then I wouldn’t have to be this worried.”
“It’s going to be all right. Anyone coming after you will have to get through me,” he said, tamping down the frustration of his teenage years when there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do for Celia or his mom. Times were different now. His bank balance was definitely different. “The police are going to look over your car and secure the parking lot if there’s a problem.”
“Ten minutes ago you said the police can’t protect me.”
Dark brown locks slithered over his arm, every bit as soft as he remembered. He eased his hand away while he still could. He might not believe in the power of love anymore, but he sure as hell respected the power of lust. His body still reacted to her, but this wasn’t just any woman who’d caught his eye. This was Celia. The power of the attraction—as strong as ever—had caught him unawares. But he’d come here to make up for the past. What they’d shared was over. “We still need to let the police know. Where is your father? At the courthouse?”
“At his annual doctor’s checkup. His heart has been giving him trouble. He’s been talking about retiring after the Martin case.” She sagged back into the leather seat. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
He opened the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottled water. “No one will get to you now.” He passed her the cooled Evian. “This vehicle is steel-reinforced, with bulletproof glass.”
“Paparazzi can be persistent.” She took the bottle from him, taking special care to avoid brushing his fingers. “Is it worth it living in a bubble?”
“I’m doing exactly what I want with my life.” He had a freedom now that went far beyond the musician lifestyle, a side to his world with power that only a handful of people knew about.
“Then I’m happy for you.” She sipped the water, all signs of her fear walled away.
But he knew what he’d seen, even if she was far better at hiding her emotions now than she’d been as a teenager. “Your school year finishes tomorrow. You’ll be free for the summer. Come with me to Europe. Do it for your dad or your students, but don’t let pride keep you from accepting my proposal.”
She rolled the bottle between her hands, watching him from under the dark sweep of her eyelashes. “Wouldn’t it be selfish of me to take you up on this offer? What if I put you in danger?”
Ah. He resisted the urge to smile. She hadn’t said no. Something was shifting in her; he could sense it. She was actually considering his offer.
“The Celia I knew before wouldn’t have worried about that. You would have just blasted ahead while we tackled the problem together.”
A bump in the road jostled her against him. His