Read Online Cavanaugh Judgment by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online Page A

full head of silver-gray hair as he took the hand she was still offering. He shook it firmly and noted that she returned the handshake in kind. “I was a marine, you know.”
    The look in the man’s eyes told Greer that she’d scored points. “I could tell by your bearing, sir. Once a marine, always a marine.”
    “You bet your a—backside,” Alexander concluded, stopping himself at the last minute from saying the word he ordinarily used.
    Greer grinned, silently telegraphing that she appreciated the courtesy.
    Releasing her hand, Alexander looked at his son. “So, aside from getting shot at, losing a prisoner and gaining a bodyguard with killer legs, how did the rest of your day go?” he asked.
    “That about covers the highlights,” Blake replied. Shedding his jacket and tie, the judge left them slung over the back of the first chair he came to on his way to the liquor cabinet.
    When he took out a decanter of scotch, Greer tactfully suggested, “Shouldn’t you have something to eat, first?”
    Suppressing an irritated sigh, Blake glanced at her over his shoulder. “Detective, you were assigned to be my bodyguard, right?”
    “Right.”
    He placed the decanter on the counter. “Unless I’m mistaken, that means you’re supposed to guard the outside of my body, not the inside.”
    He was going to fight her all the way, wasn’t he? No matter what she said. Well, she didn’t join the force expecting it to be a piece of cake.
    Greer crossed to him. “Having something in your stomach reduces the effects of the alcohol. I just wanted to make things easier on you.”
    His eyes met hers. His were a piercing blue, a shade darker than his father’s, she noted. “What would accomplish that is if you folded your tent and disappeared into the night.”
    She refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she smiled brightly. She had a hunch that it drove him crazy. “Night doesn’t come for several hours yet, Your Honor,” she informed him.
    “Is that when you leave?” Alexander asked, joining her.
    “No.” As far as she knew, there weren’t going to be shifts. There was just going to be her. She had a feeling, though, as the assignment stretched out, adjustments would be made. “That’s just when the judge would want me to leave.”
    Alexander snorted dismissively as he waved a hand in his son’s direction. “Don’t pay any attention to him. Outside the courtroom, Blake doesn’t have the sense he was born with.”
    “I’m standing right here, Dad,” Blake pointed out, raising his voice.
    Alexander spared his son a withering glance. “You’re six foot two, boy, and my vision’s still good. I can see you.”
    “Then don’t talk about me as if I’m not in the room,” Blake suggested.
    “Even when you are, half the time you’re not.” Alexander looked back at Greer and confided in a voice that had never quite dipped down to the level of a whisper, “His mind wanders worse than an old man’s. Not that I’d know anything about that.” He chuckled.
    Greer nodded. “Didn’t think you would. Mr. Kincannon—” she began, only to have the senior Kincannon interrupt.
    “Gunny,” he told her. “Call me Gunny. I was a gunnery sergeant in the marines.”
    She inclined her head, wordlessly thanking the older man for the privilege of calling him by the common nickname awarded to all those who served as gunnery sergeants in the corps.
    “Gunny,” she echoed. “Could I ask you to show me around your house?”
    The older man beamed, then cleared his throat as he went through the motions of summoning a sterner look. “I suppose I can find time for that.”
    The corners of her mouth curved. “I’d appreciate it, Gunny.”
    Squaring his shoulders, the still exceedingly robust retired marine began leading her to the next room. “Okay, that was the living room. Over here you’ve got your…”
    As his father’s voice faded away, taking his unwanted houseguest with him, Blake could only shake his head. He