by Leanne Banks
She felt the vibration of one heavy footstep before he jerked her around and clasped her shoulders. She flinched at the expression on his face. The tenderness had vanished, replaced by fury.
“It’s over,” he bit out.
Her heart dropped to her knees.
“All this evading the issue,” he continued, “running whenever Philip shows up, is over. I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now.”
Shaking her head, she tried to back away.
He stopped her by tightening his hands. “Now.”
“No, Trace, I can’t. I told you why.”
“I don’t care why you think you can’t.” He ruthlessly stripped away her defense. “I deserve to know why you were all over me at that cocktail party and now you can’t bear to talk with me, let alone touch me.”
Her cheeks flooded with heat. “You know why. It’s Philip. Seeing him brought it all back, and I just couldn’t deal with it.”
He loosened his hands slightly and began to move his fingers in a caressing motion. The gentleness she’d grown accustomed to crept back into his eyes, his voice. “Brought all of what back?” he asked in the voice that never failed to turn her to putty.
It almost worked. She opened her mouth, ready to tell him anything he wanted to know, then a shred of reason permeated. He should hear this from Philip. She shook her head and looked away. “I can’t—”
He stepped back and cursed.
“Why not?” he asked in a harsh voice that chilled her blood. “Are you sure you’re not making a big deal out of nothing?”
That gave her a start. Her gaze whipped up to meet his.
“What’s the big secret?” he went on. “Did you and Philip have an affair? I can’t believe you’d be the type to play the scorned woman for this long.”
Talia was speechless for a moment.
“Affair? Scorned woman?” she said in a high-pitched voice. She gave a choking laugh and felt her fury rise. “Oh, I wish that was all it was. Big deal out of nothing,” she repeated incredulously, and shook her head.
With righteous anger oozing from every part of her, she narrowed her eyes and practically spat the condemning words from her mouth. “My brother spent three months in a hellhole, got stabbed, and came out a shell of his former self. All due to your precious brother Philip.”
Trace looked like she’d slapped him. “There must be some mistake,” he finally said.
Talia was on a roll now. “Yeah, there was a big mistake and Philip engineered it real well.”
Trace’s brows pulled together in confusion. “Not Philip. You can’t be sure.”
“I couldn’t be more sure.”
He shook his head. “No. I can’t believe—”
“That’s exactly why I haven’t told you,” she said with bitter triumph, and turned away. “You’ve got your story. Now get out and leave me alone.”
She sank down on the bed before her knees betrayed her. A lump rose in her throat when she realized she’d destroyed any chance for a future with Trace. But there’d really never been a chance, she reminded herself. She hugged herself tightly as if to ward off the cold. Staring down at the bedspread, she noticed for the first time that the flowers were orchids. She concentrated on the green leaves and pink petals, willing the time to pass until the door closed behind Trace.
But Trace didn’t leave. Instead, he sat beside her and took her cold hand. “Please,” he said, “tell me the whole story.”
She opened her mouth to refuse, then looked at his face. It was bare of anger and judgment, stark with vulnerability and need. She sensed that such vulnerability was rare for him. And he’d become too important to her to push him aside cavalierly. She couldn’t take away his pain or her own, but he desperately wanted the truth. And she desperately wanted to give him what he wanted, even if it drove them apart.
Unable to look at him, she stared down at her clasped hands and told him how Philip had engineered Kevin’s arrest.
“They closed the reform school a few years ago,” she finished later, “due to mismanagement and health code violations.”
Trace stared at Talia and fought against overwhelming, painful bewilderment. He didn’t know what to think, but he didn’t want to believe Philip was capable of such deceit. The horror and senselessness of the deed appalled him. “Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand? Could you have misinterpreted something he said or did?”
She shook her head. “The whole thing went too smoothly not to be planned. You’re a lawyer, Trace. You know how difficult it is to prove something like this. Especially against someone whose name is Barringer,” she added bitterly.
Her lost expression made his gut clench. “I’m a Barringer.”
She looked up with tears in her eyes. “Yes, but you’re everything he isn’t.”
He took a deep breath. Standing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know what to say. It seems unreal. I don’t think you’d lie,” he assured her quickly. “But Philip— I can’t understand why he’d do something like this. He was always protective of Valerie, but this is out of character.”
Seeing his confusion hurt her further. “Trace, I know this is hard for you. But surely you can see why I’ve insisted that things won’t work between us.”
His head whipped around, his eyes piercing her to her core. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”
She lifted her hands. “Trace, your family is everything to you. And Kevin is everything to me. This can only destroy us.”
“No!” The rush of sheer panic surprised him. The problem with Philip was disturbing, but the mere suggestion of Talia supping away from him was untenable. A cold chill swept through him. “You’re wrong,” he said, coming back to her side. “My family may mean a lot to me, but they’re not everything. This can only destroy us if we let it.”
“Philip is your brother.”
“He’s not me.” He wanted to shake her, but cupped her chin instead. “This happened years ago. We have to deal with the present.” He gazed into her misery-filled eyes. “Or are you determined to live in the past?”
She looked away. “It’s not that easy, Trace. Even if your brother hadn’t tried to destroy my brother, we’d still have all these differences between us. Your life is completely different from mine. Our social circles will never mix.”
“We mixed pretty well last night. You came apart in my arms and I came apart in yours.” He saw the doubt and confusion in her eyes and wanted to kiss it away, but he sensed it wouldn’t work. He’d have to find the right words. “And it isn’t just sex,” he continued, correctly guessing what was going on in her mind. “I’ve waited too long for this, maybe all my life.”
Her eyes widened in alarm, and he bit off an oath. She still didn’t want to admit how important they’d become to each other. “Tell me, Talia, have you ever felt like this before?”
He saw the fire dance in her gaze before she closed her eyes and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It can’t matter. There are too many—”
“Too many other people’s needs?” he interrupted, barely reining in his impatience. “What about what you need? What about what I need?” He shook her gently. “When will the time be right? When will everything be perfect so you can let go and take a risk?” He paused because he knew he had her attention. Her eyes, full of worry, were fastened on him.
“Never,” he said, answering his rhetorical question. “And never’s not good enough for me.” He took her hands again and comforted himself with the fact that they trembled. Then he played his last card, knowing Talia rarely backed away from a challenge. “Is never good enough for you?”
“Oh, Trace.” She let out a shaky sigh and looked at the ceiling. He watched her blink against the shiny tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t know.”
He still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more. But when the phone interrupted the silence, he told himself “I don’t know” was better than a definite no.
Talia an
swered it, then handed the phone to him. As he listened to a hospital receptionist, he wondered what else could go wrong that day. He closed his eyes, clearing his mind and battling fatigue.
“It’s the hospital,” he told Talia as he hung up the phone. “Something’s happened to Robby’s grandmother.”
Over the next hours, Talia was amazed at how time alternately crawled and sped by. They were at the hospital in a matter of minutes. It was by unspoken request that she’d come along. And she found she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was thrilled to have Trace depend on her.
While Trace spent hours on the phone trying to locate Madelyn in New York, Talia reassured Robby about his grandmother. She had fallen down the steps and broken her leg in two places. She went immediately into surgery at the hospital, where they inserted some pins. Recovery, the doctor predicted, would be slow.
By late Sunday afternoon all three were headed back to Barringer in Trace’s Cadillac. Talia sat in the backseat with Robby, because he’d looked so forlorn by himself. His little body was stiff with tension, but finally, after four books and three songs, he snuggled against her. His eyelids began to droop. “Talia, you smell so good,” he said.
She smiled. “Well, thank you, Robby.”
“You smell just like bubble gum. Do you have any?”
She blinked. Catching Trace’s eye in the rearview mirror, she laughed. “If he keeps up these compliments, he’s destined for permanent bachelorhood.”
“Oh, I don’t know. His technique may need a little work, but his heart’s in the right place.” Trace lowered his voice. “I can’t fault his taste.”
She looked back at Robby and started to answer his request, but he’d already gone to sleep. Brushing the blond hair off his forehead, she marveled over what a beautiful child he was. He already had the same dark eyebrows and eyelashes that Trace had. Frowning, she noticed he also had dark circles under his eyes. It had been a tough night for everybody.
“Out for the count?” Trace asked quietly.
After securing a pillow beneath Robby’s drooping head, she leaned toward the front seat. “He’s gone,” she murmured. She startled herself by almost reaching out to stroke Trace’s face in an offer of comfort.
“Give me your hand,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
He kissed her hand, then leaned his whiskered cheek against it. They rode that way for a long time in quiet contentment. Talia didn’t want to examine that feeling too closely. She might destroy the peace and serenity of the moment. Still she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be than in the backseat of a car with a four-year-old boy, while her arm fell asleep because Trace Barringer insisted on holding her hand.
The Cadillac ate up the remaining miles to Barringer. Robby was still asleep when Trace stopped in front of Talia’s house. She couldn’t resist giving the sleeping child one last kiss before she got out.
“I’ll get your suitcase,” Trace said in a low voice.
She nodded, feeling strangely reluctant to leave the car. But she did leave as quietly as she could.
Trace followed her up the walk. The night air was thick with humidity, and only the sounds of a neighbor’s dog and chirping crickets broke the silence.
She’d left the porch light on. It illuminated the big crack in the concrete walk that she hadn’t had a chance to fix yet. She needed to mow the yard too. Maybe she could squeeze it in tomorrow evening. She hadn’t noticed how dingy the paint looked either. But it was clean, her prideful side asserted. And it wasn’t cracked or peeling.
Suddenly she realized why she was noticing all the little faults in her home. Trace Barringer. She’d spent the weekend pretending to be Cinderella, eating caviar, drinking champagne and getting drunk on Trace’s attention.
But the ball was over.
The Cadillac coach would be gone in just a few moments, and she would be left with her Datsun pumpkin.
But what about the necklace? her softer side argued. What about the way he held her in his arms? That had to mean something.
It meant they’d had a great weekend, she answered herself. Trace and Robby were going back to the Barringer mansion where they belonged while she remained there where she belonged.
Funny how that short walk from the car could make a world of difference.
She sighed, then turned to face Trace when she reached the door. After all they’d been through in the last twenty-four hours, she felt like weeping at the prospect of not being with him and Robby any longer. If she could just avoid looking into Trace’s eyes, maybe she could avoid making a fool of herself.
Pasting a smile on her face, she fixed her gaze on his chin. “Well, I can honestly say I’ve never had a weekend quite like this,” she said lightly, and tried not to think about their endless lovemaking on Friday night. “I think the committee members will be pleased about the carpet and the vase.” Of course, mentioning the vase made her think of horseback riding, which made her think of Friday night again. Her composure started to slip.
“Talia—”
“Thanks for everything, Trace,” she rushed on. “I would have felt like a fish out of water if you hadn’t been there. Although Camilla was very nice.” She twisted her fingers together, still refusing to look at his eyes. But his chin was too damn close to his mouth.
“Talia—”
“Listen, Robby will probably wake up any minute.” She practically jerked her suitcase from him. “He might get scared and—” He put his hands on her shoulders. She might have pulled it off, but she blew it by looking up into his mesmerizing eyes.
“Talia, I can honestly say I’ve never had a weekend like this either,” he murmured in a velvety tone.
Goose bumps rose on her skin. She clutched the suitcase handle tightly, as if hanging on for dear life.
“I want to see you again soon, but Robby…” His voice trailed off and his face wore regret.
A lump rose in her throat, and she forced another smile. “I understand, Trace.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you really?”
“Of course.” If she couldn’t erase her doubts, the least she could do was conceal them. Trace had enough on his mind. “You’ll be terribly busy. Robby needs you right now. He needs you to make his life as stable as possible.”
Trace nodded. “You’re right about that. I feel like I’ve got to make up for this whole last year.”
He seemed so burdened, and a wave of compassion swept over her. “You two will be fine. He’s so happy to be with you.”
“Think so?”
“Sure,” she said, and deliberately lightened the discussion. “Especially if you get him that puppy he wants.”
Trace grinned and her heart wrenched. He pulled her closer and kissed her once, twice, then released her and looked down at her with his searing gaze. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Of course,” she said huskily, and hoped she sounded much more confident than she felt.
He cupped her chin in one hand, however, and studied her face. “I will call,” he said as if the words should be etched in stone.
Her throat was tight, so she simply nodded and blinked away the shaming moisture in her eyes.
He frowned. “Is something wrong with your eyes?”
“Oh, they feel a little gritty from lack of sleep. That’s all.” She turned away and magically produced the key from her pocketbook. Some supernatural force enabled her to insert it into the lock and turn it.
Just before she cleared the threshold, Trace wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the top of her head. “See you later.”
She nodded, holding her breath until his arm was gone. The tears were falling before she’d closed the door behind her.
Over the next week, whenever Trace had a free moment—and that was rare—he remembered his last conversation with Talia. Something about it nagged him. She’d said all the right things. She’d kissed him and smiled. She’d even made a little joke about him getting a puppy for Robby.
T
race had gotten the puppy, a two-story colonial house, much of the furniture to go in it, and a swing set for the backyard. He’d also gotten custody of Robby. Madelyn had finally agreed. What he needed now was a nanny. And Talia.
He called her from his office on Monday, but she had just gotten a large to-go order. She said she was sorry, but she was too busy to talk. He called her again that night after he’d put Robby to bed. There was no answer. That bothered him.
On Tuesday he made up his mind to go see her at the shop, but something came up and he got buried in work. He tried calling a couple more times that night before it dawned that she was avoiding him. That really bothered him.
Thursday night after reading a half dozen books to Robby, he sat on his son’s bed and critically examined his last meeting with Talia. She’d fidgeted a bit, as if she’d been eager to get into her house. He’d had to interrupt her in order to get her attention, he recalled.
She’d reassured him, but her eyes… When he’d told her he’d be in touch, she hadn’t believed him. Why not? For Pete’s sake, he hadn’t exactly beat around the bush about his feelings. Of course he wanted to see her again.
Idly tracing the pattern of a cartoon character on Robby’s bedspread, he frowned. It seemed he wasn’t getting answers from anyone. Philip was “out of town,” both Cynthia and his brother’s secretary had apologetically told him. He didn’t return any of Trace’s calls, and Trace found Philip’s silence damning. An insistent, ugly suspicion burned in his blood.
His thoughts turned to Talia again, who was never far from his mind. He could almost smell her scent and hear her laughter. Still, the lady had her doubts. His hand stilled abruptly as he recalled how she’d never fully committed herself to their relationship.
She’d said “I don’t know,” instead of “yes.” He had assumed they would continue seeing each other after he got Robby settled in. But when he looked back on the last time he saw Talia, his gut clenched as he realized what her uneasiness and disbelief added up to.
She’d been saying goodbye.
He wondered what had been the deciding factor—the business with Philip or her misplaced concern over their different social worlds.
