Page 19 of The Billionaire's Marriage Mission

'Please go.' She turned and walked into the sitting room, wondering what she would do if he didn't follow her. He did.

As she opened the front door and stood aside for him to leave, he paused in front of her. 'I shall pick you up for Sunday lunch at twelve,' he said quietly. 'On the dot, OK?'

She looked at him in absolute amazement, too surprised to even feel outraged at his temerity. Finding her voice, she said, 'You are the last person in the world I'd have lunch with, Travis, so don't waste your time calling.'

'Twelve, on the dot.' He bent, kissing her swiftly with the lightest of kisses on her lips, before walking out of the cottage. The evening shadows swallowed him up and he didn't look back.

She didn't wait to see if he reached his car before she closed the door, leaning against it as she felt her legs threaten to let her down. Harvey was at her feet whining, and it was only when she stroked his coarse fur to reassure him she was all right that she realised how badly she was trembling.

It had been the briefest of kisses, barely a kiss at all, so why had it affected her so deeply? The silent room provided no answer. Not that she had expected it to.

After a minute or two she felt the strength to move away from the door, walking into the kitchen and surveying the remains of the casserole. 'A social nicety.' She said the words out loud as though that would help convince her how ridicu¬lous she was being. That was all such a kiss was to a man like Travis. Something you did when you left a dinner party or something similar. A polite finale to the evening.

She put her hands to her hot face, her head whirling with so many thoughts and emotions she felt giddy. It didn't help that her lips were burning where his had touched or that for the short fleeting moment when his flesh had touched hers time had stood still. The smell, the feel, the sheer potency of him was still lingering and she didn't want it to. She didn't want to feel like this. She didn't want him to affect her at all.

She groaned, shaking her head at her weakness. He had called Keith dangerous, but Travis was in a league all of his own. What was she going to do?

She was still asking herself the same question when she crawled into bed that night, emotionally and mentally ex¬hausted. Endless post mortems of every word spoken, every gesture, every nuance in Travis's voice had made her more confused than ever. But one thing was certain, she told herself as she lay in the warm darkness scented by the rambling roses outside her open window. She was not going to have Sunday lunch with him. She still could hardly believe she'd heard aright after the way the evening had gone. It was proof of how arrogant he was.

An owl hooted in the woods surrounding the cottage, the el¬emental sound comforting in a forever kind of way. In all the trauma and drama of recent months, the agonising pain she'd felt at losing her parents so unexpectedly and then the hurt and betrayal by Keith, this wood had gone on for generations. Some of the old oak trees had been here a century or two before she'd been born and would still be here when she was gone.

Beth pulled the thin linen sheet up round her ears and de¬terminedly shut her eyes, the jumbled maelstrom of her thoughts quietening suddenly. She couldn't stop Travis coming here on Sunday morning but she could make sure she wasn't in. And that wasn't cowardice. It was simply hammer¬ing home the simple truth that she wanted nothing at all to do with him. Nothing.

In spite of her conviction she was doing the only thing possible in the circumstances and that was far better than having a shouting match on the doorstep, Beth couldn't help feeling inordinately guilty as she left the cottage at ten o'clock on Sunday morning. She had packed a picnic lunch for herself and Harvey and intended to spend the hot and sunny summer's day tramping the hills and valleys in the surrounding countryside. And she would think of nothing at all. All day.

She spent what should have been an idyllic day in the fresh air, returning home at twilight. The flowering grass beneath her feet was soft and shimmering in the evening light as the warm breeze ruffled it, the birds twittering as they prepared for darkness in the trees and bushes and a flock of sheep placid and silent in the fields below the cottage as she emerged close to the house. As she approached the garden gate eight large birds circled overhead in the last rays of the setting sun, the delicate pattern on their wings turning to purest gold where the light touched them. The beauty of the moment took Beth's breath away.

So why, when she'd had a perfectly lovely day with Harvey and everything was so peaceful and tranquil, should she be feeling so wretched? she asked herself, opening the gate. All day she had been fighting thoughts of Travis but no matter how she had tried to keep him at bay he'd insisted on forcing himself into the front of her mind.

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