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      All Talia McKenzie wants from Trace Barringer is his money—in the form of a donation to her charity. The last thing she needs is the too-arrogant, too-sexy businessman muscling his way on to the committee. He may have been the object of her girlhood fantasies, but she stopped believing in fairytales long ago. Falling for a Barringer, no matter how tempting he is, would mean betraying her own family…

      Trace doesn’t recognize Talia as the girl he once called his guardian angel. But he does know a challenge when he sees one—and the beautiful deli owner is a definite challenge. Trace is used to getting what he wants, and he wants Talia.

      With the passion between them reaching a fever pitch, Talia can’t deny her attraction to Trace for long. But how can they build a future when she can’t forgive the past?

      Previously published.

      This book is dedicated to my sisters, Karen and Janie, for the fights, laughter, tears and hard-won friendship the years have given us.

      And special thanks to Bonnie, Carolyn, Janet and Mary.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Epilogue

      Prologue

      He wasn’t a drunk, he was just a little crazy.

      At least that was the consensus among the small population of Barringer, Virginia. As twelve-year-old Talia McKenzie frantically pedaled her bike toward home, she saw men push and poke at crazy old Mr. Simmons. Slowing down, she wondered what in the world she should do.

      She was an hour past her curfew. Swimming at the lake had been so much fun, though, and her friend, Gina, had brought sandwiches for lunch. Even after Gina had left, Talia had splashed and swum, pretending the August sun wouldn’t set. She couldn’t pretend away her goose bumps and pruned skin, however, when the water grew cool. And the sun faded in spite of her wishes.

      Talia could have stayed at the lake for the rest of her life. An instant jab of guilt squelched that thought, and she sighed. Since her mother had gotten sick in March, it seemed Talia had no time for swimming and pajama parties. She’d spent the entire summer keeping her younger brother, Kevin, out of trouble and caring for her mother.

      The only reason Talia had gotten away that day was because her mother’s best friend, Opal Taylor, had promised to spend the afternoon with Mama and Kevin.

      “Stop it,” Mr. Simmons cried in an angry, pitiful voice.

      “We’ll stop,” the taller youth said with an ugly laugh, “when you give us your money.”

      Talia scowled. Mr. Simmons had very little money and no family. She knew for a fact that the minister let the old man sleep in the church.

      Hiding on her bike behind some trees, she looked around in vain for help. Mr. Simmons started yelling louder, and she hoped someone would hear him soon. After all, they stood in a fairly public area, behind the town’s movie house.

      Not that that was good for Talia. If she didn’t get grounded for coming home late, she’d probably get it for taking the shortcut through town. Her mother disapproved of her biking on busy streets, especially at night.

      She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw another young man walk toward the trio. He was tall and slim and strode along with a confident gait. The light from a distant streetlamp reflected on his long blond hair and white shirt.

      “Hey,” she heard him say, “what’s the problem?”

      The two thugs immediately turned their attention to him. Talia stared at him, too, thinking she couldn’t wait to tell Gina about him. He was much more impressive than all those rock stars Gina was always mooning over.

      He was a good guy, too, she thought, dividing them up just like in an old Western. All he needed was a white hat.

      “Nothing we can’t handle, rich boy,” the tall bully said. “Mind your own business.” He gave the new arrival a hard push.

      A lump of fear formed in Talia’s throat. What if they carried knives? Mr. Simmons seemed to sense they’d lost interest in him and was edging away. Talia gripped her handlebars tighter. What should she do? Caught up in her anxiety, she didn’t hear the ensuing conversation. She did see one of the bad guys punch the rescuer in the stomach.

      She winced at the sound of fist against flesh.

      Both thugs went after the blond man full force. Still, he held his own with calculated kicks and blows. He didn’t seem to give their pounding jabs more than a shrug.

      Talia watched in awe. When one of the bullies fell to the ground, it looked as if the rescuer might take them both out.

      But the bully staggered to his feet. A cold chill settled over her. She could barely make out the object in his hand, but it looked like a brick.

      Something had to be done. Adrenaline rushed through her, and Talia acted on pure instinct. She pedaled furiously toward them. Engrossed with the fighting, the three men didn’t see her until it was too late.

      She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and rode straight into the man holding the brick.

      He howled in pain.

      Thrown clear from her bike, she began to scream at the top of her lungs. She raised such a furor that several other people rushed to the scene. The teen thugs tried to run away, but a couple of men stopped them.

      She heard several appalled murmurs.

      “Isn’t that Harlan Barringer’s son?”

      “Trace Barringer?”

      “These delinquents will be dead meat when Harlan hears about this.”

      Another man chuckled. “Looks like Trace took care of them well enough on his own.”

      Talia just wanted to get away without being recognized. She picked herself up and retrieved her bike. Her knees were skinned. They burned with pain, and she could feel blood running down one leg.

      At this rate, she figured she’d be lucky to see the lake again before her thirteenth birthday.

      Just as she climbed on her bike, the one they called Trace said, “Hey, wait a minute. You on the bike. I need to thank you.”

      She gulped as he walked to her. Everyone was staring at her. Acutely aware of her dark, stringy hair and wet clothing, she bit her lip and wished she could make herself disappear.

      He gave her a warm smile that made her stomach feel strange, then he offered his hand. Even with his cheek beginning to swell, he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. She would have liked to see the color of his eyes, but it was too dark.

      She rubbed her scraped palm against her shorts before taking his hand. “It was nothing,” she whispered, and quickly put her hand back on the handlebar.

      “Nothing?” Her heart lifted absurdly at his incredulous tone. “You saved my rear. What are you, some kind of guardian angel?”

      She recovered her wits enough to laugh. The last person who’d