3

Six years later….

Travis stared at the coffin deep inside the open grave. The earth they’d thrown in was scattered on top, along with some lone flowers left by departing friends and acquaintances. Some of them had been men, inordinately upset. Evidently there was some truth to the rumours that the stunning Rachel Graham had taken lovers during her third marriage.

Travis felt many conflicting emotions, apart from the obvious grief for his dead mother. He couldn’t say that they’d ever had a close relationship; she’d been eternally elusive and had carried an air of melancholy about her. She’d also been beautiful. Beautiful enough to send his own father mad with grief when she left him.

The kind of woman who’d had the ability to make grown men completely lose all sense of dignity and of themselves. Not something that would ever happen to him. His single-minded focus was on his career and rebuilding the Carson motor empire. Beautiful women were a pleasant diversion—nothing more. None of his lovers were ever under any illusions and expected nothing more than the transitory pleasure of his company.

His conscience pricked at this confident assertion—there had only been one lover who had taken him close to the edge but that was an experience he didn’t dwell on...not any more.

His half-brother, Alexander Graham, turned to him now and smiled tightly.

Travis felt a familiar ache in his chest. He loved his half-brother, and had done from the moment he’d been born, but their relationship wasn’t easy. It had been hard for Travis to witness his brother growing up, sure in the knowledge of his father’s success and support—so different from his own experience with his father. He’d felt resentful for a long time, which hadn’t been helped by his stepfather’s obvious antipathy towards the son that wasn’t his.

They both turned and walked away from the grave, engrossed in their own thoughts. Their mother had bequeathed to both her sons her distinctive green eyes, although Alex’s were a shade more golden than Travis’ striking light green. Travis’ hair was thicker and a darker brown next to his brother’s short-cut ebony-black hair. Differing only slightly in height, they were both a few inches over six foot.

Travis’ build was broad and powerful. His brother’s just as powerful, but leaner. Dark stubble shadowed Travis’ firm jawline today, and when they came to a stop near the cars Alex observed it, remarking dryly, “You couldn’t even clean up for the funeral?”

The tightness in Travis’ chest when he’d stood at the grave was easing slightly now. He curbed the urge to be defensive, to hide the vulnerability he felt, and faced his brother, drawling with a definite glint in his eye, “I got out of bed too late.”

He couldn’t explain to his brother how he’d instinctively sought the momentary escape he would find in the response of an eager woman, preferring not to dwell on how his mother’s death had made him feel. Preferring not to dwell on how it had brought up vivid memories of when she’d walked out on his father so many years ago, leaving him a broken man. His father was still bitter, adamantly refusing to pay his respects to his ex-wife today despite Travis’ efforts to persuade him to come.

Alex, oblivious to Travis’ inner tumult, shook his head and smiled wryly.

“Unbelievable. You’ve only been in town for two days—no wonder you wanted to stay in a hotel and not at my apartment…”

Travis pushed aside the dark memories and quirked a mocking brow at his brother, “Shut up and let's go. I have very important things to do,”

__________

“Freya, sorry to bother you, but there’s a call for you on line one...someone with a very deep and sexy voice.”

Freya Williams looked up from the results she’d been reading to see the secretary of the research department at the University where she worked. It was Courtney, who was also a close friend of hers.

Kind eyes twinkled mischievously in a matronly face. “Did you get up to something at the weekend? Or should I say someone?”

Freya smiled, “Chance would be a fine thing. I spent all weekend working on Daniel's playschool nature project with him.”

Courtney smiled and said indulgently, “You know I live in hope, Freya. You and Daniel need a gorgeous man to come and take care of you.”

Freya gritted her teeth and kept smiling, restraining herself from pointing out how well she and Daniel were doing without a man. Now she couldn’t wait to take the call. “Did you say line one?”

Courtney winked and disappeared, and Freya took a deep breath before picking up the phone and pressing the flashing button. “Dr Freya Williams here.”

There was silence for a few seconds, and then came a voice. Low, deep, sexy—and infinitely memorable.

“Hi, Freya. It's Travis,”

The prickle of foreboding became a slap in the face. All the blood in her body seemed to drain south, to the floor. Anger, guilt, emotional pain, lust and an awful treacherous tenderness flooded her in a confusing tumult. She only realised she hadn’t responded when the voice came again, cooler.

“Travis Carson...perhaps you don’t remember?”

As if that was humanly possible!

Her hand gripped the phone and she managed to get out, “No... I mean, yes. I remember.”

Freya wanted to laugh hysterically. How could she forget the man when she looked into a miniature replica of his face and green eyes every day?

“Good,” came the smooth answer. “How are you, Freya? You’re a doctor now?”

“Yes…” Freya's heart was doing funny things, beating so hard she felt breathless. “I got my doctorate after…” She faltered and the words reverberated in her head unspoken. After you came into my life and blew it to smithereens.

She fought valiantly for control and said in a stronger voice, “I got my doctorate since I saw you last. How can I help you?”

Again a bubble of hysteria rose up in her: how about helping him by telling him he has a son?

“I am here in Suncrest because we’ve set up a base for Carson Motors”

“That’s...nice,” Freya said, a little redundantly.

The magnitude of who she was talking to seemed to hit her all of a sudden and she went icy all over. Travis Carson. Here in Suncrest. He’d tracked her down.

Why? Daniel. Her son, her world. His son.