“Wait!”
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 Barringer family. Should she expect the police to show up with Trace?
She glanced at the clock again. Fifteen minutes. There was a reasonable explanation for this, she told herself, but part of her wondered if this was Trace’s idea of a sick joke.
Fourteen minutes.
With her heart thundering in her chest, she tossed the covers aside and raced to the shower.
Her hair was wet, but she was clean, alert and wearing decent clothing when she answered his knock. She thrust the eel-skin wallet at Trace as if it were a grenade.
“Here it is. It was hidden under the cushions. I practically tore the chair apart, but nothing seemed to have slipped out. You might—” She broke off her verbal sprint when she noticed the strange way he was studying her.
Dressed in a chalk-striped suit, he stood with one hand resting on his hip. It was a very masculine, very powerful stance. A tingle of awareness ran through her. Having Trace Barringer’s undivided attention was pretty heady stuff.
She cleared her throat. “You might want to make sure everything is there.” She looked at his wallet and waited expectantly.
He shrugged and put the wallet away. “I’m not really worried about it. I just realized I’d left it here last night and I never know when I’ll get called out of town. Between your schedule and mine…” His voice trailed off, and he gave her a grin that had nothing to do with schedules.
She tried to ignore the quick flutter of her heart. “I’d really feel better if you looked through it now.” When he wrinkled his brow, she explained, “Since you misplaced it at my house, it would set my mind at ease if you made sure everything’s in the right place.”
He paused, then took the wallet back out and riffled through the credit cards and money. “It looks okay to me. But I would have been very upset to find this missing.” He flipped to a photograph and showed it to her.
Feeling foolish for overreacting, she let out a long breath of relief. The man had simply left his wallet by accident and she’d had a full-scale anxiety attack over it. She smiled weakly and looked at the photograph. A pint-sized version of Trace looked back at her. “Your son?”
He nodded. “You see the family resemblance?”
She studied the towheaded charmer with the heartbreaker smile. “How could I miss? He’s adorable. He’s got your smile.”
“Thank you. I’ll assume that means you think I’m adorable.” Trace chuckled at the disconcerted expression on her face. She’d appeared so panicked when she first opened the door, and he was glad she seemed more relaxed. Her hair was starting to dry into tousled waves that reminded him of rich silk.
He’d love to put his hands through it.
Her clothing was perfectly respectable, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if she wore a bra beneath the aqua T-shirt.
“You assume quite a bit, Mr. Barringer.”
He tore his gaze from her shirt up to her beautiful eyes. “Talia,” he said in mock offense. “I’m beginning to think you have something against me. And I know that can’t be true, because you don’t know me yet.”
He said the last phrase like a promise, Talia thought, as though she was going to get to know him if he had anything to do with it. Biting her tongue didn’t keep her retort back this time.
“You’re smarter than I thought, Mr. Barringer.”
He laughed, and she hated him for having a sense of humor. Most men in his position would be pompous. He was entirely too charming for her good. Furthermore, he made her want things she couldn’t have. She backed away and turned the doorknob behind her. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready for work.”
She’d just about made it through the door when he clasped her hand and lifted it to within an inch of his lips. Talia’s heart lodged in her throat.
“Saturday night, Talia. And my name is Trace.” His gaze held hers as he deliberately turned her hand over and pressed his warm mouth against the racing pulse in her wrist. The effect was like liquid flame racing through her bloodstream.
When he loosened his grip, she snatched her hand back, resisting the urge to rub away the effect of his light caress. “Saturday night,” she whispered, and miraculously managed to back her way through the door without falling.
She watched him walk away with that same confident stride he’d had fourteen years ago. He walked like a man who knew how to get what he wanted.
“Just a minute please, Freddie,” Talia said as she pulled a food order from her fax machine. After noting the number and types of subs ordered, she mentally calculated how long it would take to fill the order.
“Is that Aida you’re playing today, Talia?” Freddie asked.
She turned and smiled at the shy young man. She had a soft spot for Freddie, probably because he was the same age as her brother. “Yes, it is. You’ve been listening to Verdi more.”
Her smile faltered when she saw a man walk up behind Freddie. Trace. Her heartbeat quickened.
“What can I get for you today?” she asked, focusing on Freddie again. She tried not to think about the attractive blond man who’d never set foot in her deli before that day. A difficult task, considering the way he was studying her.
“I’ll take a meatball sub and a cola,” Freddie said. “How’s your fax machine working out? Sometimes I think we use it more than the telephone or mail.”
“It’s been great. Kevin nagged me to get it, you know, and I love it. This way I don’t have to answer the phone as much. Especially for large orders.” Large orders from the Barringer complex. What was Trace doing there? She had deliveries taken over to the main offices every day at lunch.
Freddie grinned. “I know all about those large orders. The secretaries usually ask me to tally up an order and send it to you. I guess they figure since I’m a messenger for the Barringer complex, it’s easy enough for me to take orders for lunch when I deliver memos and the mail.”
Growing weary of the Barringer name, Talia just smiled and rang up Freddie’s sub and soda.
“If you ever need any help with that fax machine,” Freddie said as he took his order from her, “you let me know. I do a lot of—” He was so intent on watching Talia that he backed right into Trace.
“Oh! Excuse me.” Freddie’s pudgy cheeks flooded with color. “Mr. Barringer,” he gasped.
Talia thought she heard a faint “Oh my God” too. Her heart went out to Freddie as he struggled with both his words and his wide plaid tie.
She