Cavanaugh's Bodyguard Read Online Free PDF Page A

again after his wife had gone missing and had been presumed by everyone—everyone but him—to be dead. He never gave up working the case, never gave up looking for the mother of his five children. And eventually, his persistence had paid off. The only thing that remotely came close to spoiling the event for him was that his father had sent his hearty congratulations instead of turning up to celebrate with the rest of the family.
    “No, nothing’s wrong,” Andrew told her. “He said he suddenly just got tired of doing nothing with the rest of his life but shooting the breeze with a bunch of old men who were living in the past. He’s decided to turn over a new leaf. Part of that involves flying out here. And, I suspect that he’s anxious to meet his new son.”
    Rose smiled. “At his age, Sean can’t exactly be called ‘new,’” she pointed out, amusement curving the generous corners of her mouth.
    He looked at it in another way. “Considering the fact that Dad’s never seen him, I think the word ‘new’ could be applied in this case.”
    “I suppose you’re right.” Pushing aside the empty juice glass, Rose got to her feet. “Well, I’d better get myself to the store,” she announced. She caught her husband arching his eyebrow in a silent query, which surprised her. “If there’s going to be another one of Andrew Cavanaugh’s famous parties in the very near future, I’ve got a lot of grocery shopping to do. Do you have a list ready for me?”
    Instead of producing one, Andrew caught her hand and pulled her over to him, stopping his wife from leaving the room.
    “No, no list and no famous party,” he told her. “I think that this time around, Dad meeting his son for the first time will be a private occasion.”
    He could have knocked her over with a feather. “Really?” she asked incredulously.
    In all the years that she had been part of Andrew’s life, she’d found that absolutely everything was an excuse for a family get-together and a party. “One for all and all for one” wasn’t just a famous phrase written by Alexander Dumas in The Three Musketeers , it was a mantra that she strongly suspected her husband believed in and lived by.
    “Dad’s got a pretty tight rein on his emotions,” Andrew explained. Friendly and seemingly outgoing, there was still a part of Seamus Cavanaugh that he kept walled in, strictly to himself. That part grieved over loss and mourned over victims who couldn’t be saved in time. “But this kind of thing can just blow a man right out of the water. If, once he meets Sean, Dad loses it, he definitely won’t appreciate it happening in front of a room full of witnesses.”
    Rose laughed. “Since when have we ever been able to fit all our relatives into just a room?” she asked.
    “All right, I stand corrected. A house full of witnesses,” Andrew amended. “This is definitely one case of the less people being around for the grand reunion, the better.”
    Rose pretended to be disappointed—but the hint of a grin gave her away. “And here I was, planning to sell tickets.”
    “C’mere, woman.” Andrew laughed.
    He gave her hand a quick tug and swept her onto his lap. He liked having her there just fine. In his mind, because he’d been given a second chance after doggedly searching for her all those years she’d had amnesia and been missing without realizing it, he still felt like a newlywed.
    “Anyone ever tell you that you have a fresh mouth?” he asked Rose, doing his best to sound serious.
    Rose laced her fingers together behind his neck as she made herself comfortable in her favorite “chair.” “Not that I recall,” she answered with a straight face. “Why? Do you want to sample it?”
    The former chief of police grinned and looked every bit the boy whom she had first fallen in love with in second-period American English all those very many years ago.
    “I thought you’d never ask,” he said just before he kissed her and rocked her