Playing for Keeps. Catherine Mann
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stepped inside to make sure there weren’t any more roses—or worse—waiting for her. She disarmed the alarm, then walked beside him down the narrow hall leading toward the living area, clicking her fingernails along a panpipe hung on the wall. His sixth sense hummed on high alert. Something wasn’t right, but his instincts were dulled around Celia, and damn it, that wasn’t acceptable. He knew better. He’d been trained for better.
Drawing in his focus, he realized … Holy hell …
He angled back to Celia. “Did you leave the living room light on?”
Flinching, she gasped. “No. I never do …”
He tucked her behind him only to realize … a man sat on the sofa.
Her father.
Malcolm resisted the urge to step back in surprise. Judge Patel had gotten old. Intellectually, Malcolm understood the years had to have left a mark, but seeing that in person was … unsettling. He’d resented this man, even hated him at some points, but bottom line, he understood they both had a common goal: keeping Celia safe.
Malcolm was just better suited for the job, and this time, he refused to let Judge George Patel stop him.
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