Fallen Angel Read Free Page B

distraction, she set aside the documents and got up from her desk. Geneva glanced at her watch and smiled. She expected to find her only employee, Rose Treadwell, arriving for her first day back to work following a four–week vacation.
    Geneva stumbled to a stop in her office doorway when she spotted the tall, dark–haired man with Rose—the same man who’d almost startled her into next week in a shadow–filled hallway and then proceeded to invade her dreams. Shocked to see him again, she moved out of their line of sight and watched Rose, a sixty–five year old widow and Cedar Grove resident, embrace the man.
    Shifting her stunned gaze to their faces, Geneva concentrated on their expressions and the movement of their mouths as they communicated.
    "It’s about time you paid me a visit, young man," chastised Rose.
    The man grinned. "This isn’t a visit, Aunt Rose. I’ve leased an office, and I’m looking for a place to live."
    "Oh, Thomas, you’re finally coming home!" she exclaimed before hugging him once again.
    "I am home. For good," he clarified once he released her.
    Geneva paled, embarrassment flooding her even though there was no way she could have known his identity. He intended to live here?  She groaned silently, then recalled Rose’s comments about her nephew, the famous attorney and the somewhat infamous ladies’ man. She fully grasped his seductive appeal, although it unsettled her to admit it.
    Geneva watched closely as his gaze wandered through the spacious interior of her shop. She saw the appreciation in his expression as he took in the display shelves laden with a wide selection of jams and preserves, and she knew the instant he inhaled the fragrant aroma of the extensive array of fresh–baked breads and pastry items. Pleased by his reaction, she relaxed a little, but she remained out of sight.
    "Your parents would’ve been so pleased," Rose told him. "It’s a shame you sold their house. Where will you live? What about your law practice? What are your plans?" She inspected him from head to foot with critical eyes. "You look too thin to me, Thomas. Are you eating properly? Please tell me you aren’t staying in some dreadful motel when I have a perfectly good guest room at my house."
    Geneva watched him laugh at her barrage of questions. She wondered if the sound of his laughter was low and resonant, then promptly told herself it didn’t really matter. She wouldn’t ever be able to hear it, anyway.
    "You should have been a lawyer, Aunt Rose."
    "I’ve always made it my policy to leave the lawyering in the family to the men, as out of step as that makes me with what’s politically correct these days. Now, tell me exactly what’s going on with you."
    He shrugged. "It’s not complicated. I’ve cashed out of the partnership."
    Rose’s smile faded. "You founded that partnership, Thomas, so something serious must have happened."
    Under Geneva’s watchful eyes, Thomas pondered her observation for several moments before responding. As he stood there, he unzipped his leather jacket to reveal a mauve cable knit sweater that stretched across his broad chest. Shoving his hands into the pockets of black jeans that molded to obviously muscular thighs, he rocked back on the heels of his western–style boots.
    Geneva sucked in a quick breath as heat stole into her bloodstream. She told herself that his physical attributes were no more impressive than any other male in his prime, but she knew she lied. Although not handsome, it was easy to see just why this roughly hewn man had a reputation with women.
    "Thomas?"
    "A lot of things have happened over the years, Aunt Rose. When they started to add up, I decided it was time for a new beginning. So, here I am."
    "You need a life." The older woman poked him in the chest for emphasis. "You need to
share
your life. You’ve been alone too long."
    "Maybe."
    "There’s no maybe about it."
    Thomas smiled.
    Geneva noticed the tension that invaded his posture,