Guardian Angel by Leanne Banks Page B

night.
    Trace scarfed down another five cookies, helped himself to a glass of milk and chatted with the other committee members. He sat in the lumpy blue chair again and kept his gaze on Talia the entire meeting.
    Every once in a while she threw him a bewildered little smile that made him feel incredibly predatory. Especially considering his latest scheme. He couldn’t take full responsibility for all of it. The Fitzgerald sisters had given him a perfect opportunity. He’d just developed it to suit his purposes.
    After experiencing Talia’s temper, he wondered if her shy smiles would turn to furious glares when she heard his plans. He predicted she wouldn’t give him the full brunt of her temper until the rest of the committee left. By then, though, he’d have her committed to sharing the entire weekend with him.
    Guardian angel. He shook his head, staring at her while Darryl droned on about some plans at a local bar. The ponytail had tipped him off. He’d had the unsettling feeling of déjà vu around her almost from the beginning. The fact that she was the one who’d run into those thugs so long ago only made her more appealing to him.
    â€œSo, it will be a kind of Western dance night minus cigarette smoking.” In one sentence, Talia summarized what Darryl had taken twenty minutes to say. “So, the first week of Lung Awareness Month, we’ll have information booths set up at the local grocery stores and the town square where people can pick up pamphlets and candy for the children. Health officials are taping spots for television and radio announcements, and the state president of the National Lung Association will make an appearance that first week.
    â€œThe second week—” she glanced at Trace for approval “—the mill is sponsoring a skating party, with all the proceeds going to LAM.”
    When Trace nodded, she continued, “The third week is the Western dance and smoke-out. And,” she added tentatively, “You asked us to reserve the fourth week for something at the country club, Trace.”
    Leaning back, Trace wished for a stiff drink. He had a feeling he was going to need it. “The Fitzgerald sisters contacted me yesterday. They’ve decided on a charity auction. And they’re all excited about a donation they might receive for it. It’s quite valuable. But there’s a catch.”
    Talia was thrilled with the prospect of more donations. “That’s wonderful.”
    The other committee members nodded in agreement. Only Lou seemed to hear Trace’s last comment. “You mentioned a catch,” he said.
    This was where the bottom fell out, Trace thought. “This valuable donation will be given by the Fitzgeralds’ youngest sister, Camilla. Years ago, she married a senator and moved to Washington, D.C. Her husband died a few years ago, but she has stayed active in Washington society with her charitable contributions. Prudence and Martha say she’s a bit eccentric,” he added with an ironic smile.
    That was like the pot calling the kettle black, Talia thought, grinning too.
    â€œAnyway,” he went on, “she wants us to come for a weekend visit that will include a press conference and a party. Apparently Camilla loves publicity.”
    â€œExactly what is she donating?” Lou asked.
    â€œAn antique Aubusson carpet, previously owned by an English king.”
    â€œWe’ve got to go to D.C. for a rug?” Lou said in disgust.
    â€œNot all of us,” Trace said, and turned his gaze to Talia. “Just Talia and me.”
    The committee seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Talia, however, felt a bolt of sheer terror at the thought of a press conference and a stuffy Washington party. “Me! Why me?”
    The question left her lips before she realized she’d already received her answer. Trace wore that lazy predatory expression she’d glimpsed a few times that