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And so, with Harvey's help, she had battled on until a few weeks ago when the combined pressure of grief over the loss of her parents, Keith's betrayal and the breakdown of her marriage, plus the fact she'd been working too hard since the divorce had finally caught up with her. According to the doctor, she had suffered some kind of mini breakdown and needed a complete rest.
She had flatly refused to take the medication he'd pre¬scribed but had acknowledged an extended holiday would be no bad thing. Somewhere totally quiet and isolated, she'd decided. A step out of time. Somewhere she could learn to sleep properly again and regain her appetite, where she didn't have to see a soul if she didn't want to. She'd put her requirements with several estate agents and when Herb Cottage had come to her attention she had known she'd found her little piece of English heaven.
English heaven! Beth snorted out loud, swinging her feet out of bed and walking into the en suite bathroom, where she poured herself a glass of water. It hadn't seemed like heaven tonight, standing in the wind and cold. Once she was back in the cottage tomorrow she would go and get an extra key cut in the nearest town and hide it in the garden so there was never a repeat performance of this travesty. She still couldn't believe she'd been so stupid.
She drank the water and climbed back into bed, leaving the bedside lamp on. This was a beautiful room. She glanced about her before sliding back under the duvet and determinedly shutting her eyes. It was a beautiful house altogether. Did Travis Black often bring his girlfriends here for a romantic weekend? No doubt he had plenty of women to choose from; he was that kind of man. They'd be queueing up in their droves.
In the shadowed darkness her lip curled. She bet he knew all the right things to say, like Keith had. Men always knew what to say to get what they wanted but they weren't to be trusted. They said one thing and meant another. At least a certain type of man did, and very often ones who had an extra something that was hard to define but which was very real.
She turned over in bed, bringing the pillow over her head as though she could shut out her thoughts that way. And it was like that, virtually buried in the downy softness, that she finally went to sleep, but not before the first rays of morning were beginning to streak across a charcoal sky.
Beth was woken the next morning by a loud scratching at the bedroom door followed by a sharp knock. She sat bolt upright, her heart pounding and momentarily disorientated until in the next moment she remembered. She'd been locked out; this was Travis Black's house. Her heart pounded even harder.
When the knock came again she pulled herself together, making sure the duvet was up round her chin—in spite of having slept in the jogging bottoms and T-shirt—as she called, 'Come in.'
"Hi.' As the door opened she was conscious of Travis but it was Harvey jumping on to the bed that took all of her attention. The big dog plonked his massive paws on her shoulders and proceeded to lick her face anxiously in spite of her protests. When she finally managed to push him away it was to see Travis at the side of the bed with a tray. His voice amused, he said, 'Harvey's been whining and pacing the kitchen for the last hour. I think he thought you'd run off and left him.'
Great. After cheerfully waving her off to goodness knew where the night before, Harvey had finally remembered his ob¬ligations at a time when her hair looked like a bird's nest and her face hadn't woken up. Of course it wouldn't have mattered if it had just been Harvey finding her but he'd had to go and bring Travis Black too! Talk about adding insult to injury.
Beth nerved herself to glance at Travis. He was wearing jeans and an open-necked cream shirt. He was freshly shaved and the black hair was still damp from the shower. Narrow-waisted and lean-hipped with shoulders broad enough for even the most picky female, his aura of maleness was over¬whelming. She felt at such a disadvantage that speech seemed to have deserted her. She swallowed hard, wishing she was a natural wit.
Travis didn't seem to have noticed. Or maybe he thought she was always this harmless. Beth tried to think of something to say and failed miserably.
'I wasn't sure if you took tea or coffee first thing.' Travis nodded to the contents of the tray. There was a mug of both along with sugar, milk and a small plate of plain biscuits. 'Breakfast will be ready in half an hour, OK?'
'Oh, please, don't go to any trouble. I'll just phone the agent guy if you give me his number and get out of your hair. I've imposed on you enough.' Aware she was babbling, Beth came to an abrupt halt. From not getting started, now she couldn't stop. He must be wondering what he'd taken on.
Deep grey eyes surveyed her unblinkingly. 'I've already talked to John and he's meeting us at the cottage at eleven. Hash browns or saute potatoes with your cooked breakfast?'
