Guardian Angel Read Online Free Page B

opportunity, she’d be doing a disservice to the agency that had appointed her, the people who were depending on her and, in a way, to her mother’s memory. She forced the words from her mouth. “What time shall I meet you?”
    Wearing an indiscernible expression, Trace stood and pulled on his suit coat. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll pick you up.”
    â€œNo, thank you.”
    He stopped in the midst of straightening his tie and studied her. “I insist.”
    â€œNo.” She abandoned any attempt at tact. He wanted to bulldoze her. She could see it in his eyes. But he was too clever to push her any further tonight.
    â€œSix o’clock in the lounge,” he said, and walked to the front door.
    Within three minutes they were all gone. Sensing her mood, the other committee members patted her shoulder on their way out. Opal touched Talia’s cheek and murmured, “You go on and have a good time.” Too weary to take Opal to task, Talia merely thanked the older woman for coming.
    When her home was quiet and empty again, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Even though Trace was gone, the air still hummed with tension. She could smell his woodsy aftershave, see his wicked smile.
    Moaning at her predicament, she thought of her brother. He would die if he knew she was going out with Trace Barringer, even for charity’s sake. She could imagine the betrayal he would feel.
    They both bore a grudge against the Barringers, and her Sicilian blood ran hot when she remembered what they’d done to her only brother. She unapologetically, unequivocally detested them.
    If one good thing had come out of the evening, it was that she would never again have to restrain herself from pulling off Trace’s glasses to determine his eye color. She’d waited fourteen years to find out, and he had stood close enough for her to see that they were a penetrating green.
    Â 
    After a restless night, Talia was woken by the insistent ringing of her phone. She rolled over and blindly reached toward the noise coming from her nightstand.
    â€œHello,” she murmured in a sleep-husky voice.
    â€œTalia, this is Trace Barringer. Did I wake you?”
    â€œOh, no,” she said automatically, and wondered if everyone lied about being asleep when the phone rang.
    â€œRight,” he said. His low chuckle brought her nerve endings pleasantly to life. “I wouldn’t have called this early, but I think I left my wallet at your house.”
    Talia’s eyes flew open.
    â€œWould you mind,” he went on, “if I pick it up on my way into the office? I can be at your front door in about twenty minutes.”
    Her mind was still stuck on the wallet as she absently repeated, “Twenty minutes.”
    â€œRight. I’ll see you then.”
    Click.
    â€œWait!”
    She sat up abruptly, then pounded her fist against the mattress in frustration. Like a punch-drunk fighter, she shook her head to clear it. She was never at her finest in the morning. “Trace Barringer is going to be here in twenty—” she glanced at the clock “—in nineteen minutes for his wallet. ”
    In her panicked mind, she saw an eerie similarity between this incident and the one that had happened years ago between Philip Barringer and her brother. When Philip had invited Kevin to the Barringer estate for a night of pool and pizza, Kevin had practically leaped at the opportunity.
    After all, Philip had made it plain that he didn’t want Kevin dating his sister, Valerie. With the invitation, Kevin had assumed Philip had changed his mind, that he now found Kevin acceptable.
    It had all been a dirty trick.
    Kevin had left the Barringers’ home with a false sense of hope and some family jewelry planted in his car by Philip. He hadn’t even made it all the way home before the sheriff stopped him.
    Talia wondered if the practice of framing people ran in the