Page 2 of Hayes

“I am CEO of a vast corporation, one that has been unfortunately thrust on me by Dad’s sudden demise.” His green eyes studied her face. “Mother, I wish you would take a trip or do something fun. It’s been two years, and you are still grieving. I loved him too, but we have to move on.”

Hillary touched his handsome face gently, her expression one of indulgence. “You are one to talk. You are working yourself into the ground in order to prove yourself to him.”

“I am not–” He shook his head and leaned back in the chair, a rueful expression on his face. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me, yes.” Clasping her hands together in her lap, she stared at them for a minute and wondered if she should bring up the subject. But it was best to get it out in the open.

“I was at a charity luncheon this afternoon.”

“Yes?”

Lifting her head, she gazed at him for a few seconds. “She is back, darling.”

She did not have to call any names. He already knew who the “she” was. And he had been bracing himself for the news.

“It doesn’t matter," he said tightly. Pushing back his chair, he strode over to the window to stare sightlessly at the water shimmering from the reflection of the pool.

He had intended to take a swim before he started working on the contract but had wanted to finish everything before retiring for the night. “I doubt I will be seeing her. After what happened to her parents and her subsequent disappearance. I’ll be staying far away from society.”

“She is the editor for Elegance,” Hillary told him, referring to the wildly popular magazine that had taken the market by storm a few years ago.

“Tabloids.” His lips curled in disdain. “Not what I would have expected of the girl I knew back then. But so much has changed, hasn’t it?” Turning to face his mother, Hayes summoned up a smile to hide the turmoil that had started in his heart. “I am fine. Camelia is my past. I am on the verge of asking Simone to marry me.”

It should have been good news, and some that she had been waiting for, but Hillary knew her son and knew better than most what had happened between him and Camelia. She had warned him to slow things down, but he had been wildly in love, and nothing she had said to him had made an impression.

She and his dad had barely managed to persuade him to wait until they finished high school and college before he made a decision he might regret. He had been so much in love with her that she had controlled his very existence.

Everything had been about her, and they had spent every moment together. When she was not here at the manor, he was at her place. Her parents had hardly been home, which made it all the easier for her son and their daughter to have a place where they could be alone.

And she had been the one to pick up the broken pieces of his life when she had been swept off to Europe. He had not cared about the scandal and had wanted to be with her so that he could comfort her. What had almost destroyed him was the fact that she had left without saying goodbye and cut off all communication with him.

He had begged them to let him put off going to college so he could search for her and had spent six months wandering all over Europe in his quest to find her. It had taken years for him to recover—to get over her—years he had spent doing therapy and almost failing his courses.

Camelia DeWinter had almost destroyed him, and Hillary did not want her coming near her son again. If she had to use her considerable influence, she was going to see that happen.

“Would you mind closing the door on your way out?” he asked quietly. “I have to finish going over this contract before I present it to the board tomorrow.”

Rising gracefully, Hillary struggled to hide her worry and turned to leave the office.

“I will send a maid in with some refreshments.”

“I am not hungry.”

“You might be later on.” She bolstered up a smile. “Do it for me.”

He watched her leave and went back to the thick dossier in front of him, but the words soon merged into each other, and he could not concentrate. Pushing the document away, he picked up a paperweight, an exquisite crystal in the shape of a bird, and rolled it between his palms.

It had belonged to his dad—in fact this office was where he had spent his time after coming home. It was where Hayes had sat in the corner reading his book while he glanced with pride at the man seated behind the baronial desk.

His father had been his hero, and for a very good reason. Johnathon Marsden had been an excellent father and husband.

No matter how busy he was, he would find time for his only son. He and his wife had had a very hectic and busy schedule, but that had not hindered them from attending every single activity he was involved in, and they had been numerous.

“You are so lucky,” Camelia had told him wistfully. “My parents are never around. Yours are super rich, and yet they still find time for you.”

He had teased her by saying that when they were married, his parents would become hers. Setting the paperweight down, he pushed back his chair and strode over to the recessed cabinet.

Touching a button, he selected an age-old scotch and poured a generous amount into the glass, strongly doubting it would be enough to drown the awful memories.

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