Playing for Keeps. Catherine Mann
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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 arm clamped around her instinctively, and just as fast his senses went on overload. The praline scent of her. The feel of her soft breasts pressed against his side, her palm flattened on his chest. And God, what he wouldn’t give for a taste of her as she stared up at him. Her wide brown eyes filled with the same electric awareness that snapped through his veins.
Biting her lip, she eased away, sliding to the far side of the seat. Away from him.
“We’re all grown up, and a more measured approach is called for,” she said primly, setting the water bottle into a holder. “I can’t simply go to Europe with you. That’s just … unthinkable. As for my students, you already noted the school year’s over, and if the threat truly is stemming from my father’s case, it should be resolved by the time summer’s over. See? All logical. Thank you for the offer, though.”
“Stop thanking me,” he snapped, knowing too well the ways he’d come up short in taking care of her and their child. This was his chance to make up for that, damn it, and he couldn’t let it pass him by.
The limo cruised down the familiar roads of Azalea with blessedly smaller potholes. Not much had changed; only a few of the mom-and-pop diners had folded into chain restaurants near a small mall.
Otherwise, this could have been a date of theirs years ago, driving around town in search of a spot to park and make out. They’d both lost their virginity in the back of the BMW she’d gotten for her sixteenth birthday. The memories … Damn … Too much to think about now while trying to keep his head clear.
When he’d come up with the plan to help her, he hadn’t expected to still want her, to be so pulled in by her. He’d dated over the years and could have any woman he wanted. And still, here he was, aching to take this woman. Had he gotten himself in too deep with his offer of protection? The prospect of touring Europe together, staying alone in hotels, suddenly didn’t sound like such a smart idea.
“Malcolm?” Her voice drew him back to the present. “Why did you look me up now? I truly don’t believe you’ve watched my every move for nearly eighteen years.”
Fair enough. He had kept track of her over the years. But this time of year, thoughts of their shared past weighed heavier on his conscience. “You’ve been on my mind this week. It’s the time of year.”
Celia’s eyes shut briefly before she acknowledged, “Her birthday.”
His throat closed, so he simply nodded.
Her face flooded with pain, the first deep and true emotion she’d shown since he arrived. “I am sorry.”
“I signed the papers, too.” He’d given up all custodial rights to his child. He’d known he had no choice, nothing to offer and no hope of offering her anything in the foreseeable future. He’d been lucky not to be in jail, but the military reform school in North Carolina had been a lockdown existence.