Larger than Life (16 page)

“I thought it was … apt.”

He placed the song back on the table and came to sit beside her. He slid an arm around her, drawing her close. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing her gently.

Saber smiled up at him, a touch of wonder in her eyes. “I love you, too. I … I never expected you, you know.”

“You didn’t dream of Prince Charming?” he chided gently. “I thought every little girl did that, just as every little boy dreamed of finding a princess and slaying a few dragons.”

“Did you?”

“Certainly. Maybe it was that little boy who first recognized his princess standing onstage under a spotlight.”

She continued to smile, but her silvery eyes dimmed in memory. “I don’t think I ever dreamed of a prince. Not the way most little girls would, I mean. I didn’t dream of fairy castles or a … rescuing love on a white horse.”

“What did you dream of?” he asked.

“I dreamed of a house with a white picket fence,” she said wistfully, still lost in memory. “Of roses growing in the yard, and a weeping-willow tree by a stream in back. I dreamed of a little mongrel dog and a scruffy cat. Of comfortable furniture and needlepoint pillows tossed casually around. The sounds of laughter from lots of children.” She laughed softly. “Leaning over the fence to talk to the mailman. Driving to get groceries in a station wagon. Collecting coupons and green stamps.

“And I dreamed of … being held in the night. Jokes too private to share. Laughter and love.”

Travis hugged her silently.

She looked at him, the tears in her eyes clearing slowly. “Very … mundane dreams, huh? No fairy castles. No dragons. Not even a prince.”

He cleared his throat. “No, not mundane, darling. Just your version of … happily ever after. Is that the life you want now?”

“It’s the life I never thought I could have.”

“And now?”

Saber sighed. “Now? Now I want it even more.”

“Your music?”

She no longer believed Travis would walk out of her life when he learned the truth, but it was always possible. The future, the plans she hardly dared let herself dream about … would they actually become reality? Ruthlessly, she banished the past from her mind. It wouldn’t change anything.
It wouldn’t!

“My music,” she said slowly, “was always meant for me. A way of expressing myself. An outlet for hurts and dreams and fears. I don’t think I’d ever want to stop singing. But I also don’t think”—she looked at him, her heart in her eyes—“that I need an audience anymore. I don’t think I need a
stage or a spotlight to hide behind. I think … I can sing in a garden … or in the shower …”

“Or to me?” he asked huskily.

“Or to you. Especially to you.”

He touched her face with his free hand. “I’d love to hear you singing in a garden or the shower—or to me. But would the short career you’ve had this past year really satisfy you, darling? Will you feel cheated someday?”

Saber smiled at him. “If I had found that dream of mine sooner, there never would have been a career, and I never would have missed it. Now that I’ve had it, I’ll miss it even less.”

“The world will miss it.”

“Will they?” she asked wistfully, still smiling. “Darling, in spite of what you think of my talent, you have to remember that the career of a popular singer is usually as short—and as brilliant—as a falling star.”

“Not yours,” he replied firmly. “You can be famous as long as you want to be. You’ve got the talent to shake the world.”

She was a bit shaken herself. “But I don’t want
that, Travis. I want to live with you and grow roses and babies.…”

He gathered her into his arms. “As long as you’re sure,” he whispered unsteadily into her soft hair. “I couldn’t bear it if you woke up one day and felt cheated. D’you understand that, darling? I want you with me for the rest of our lives, in a house with a white picket fence. I want to watch our roses and babies grow and bloom. I want that dream with you!”

Saber held on to him because he was that dream, and she had never wanted anything so much in her life. “I won’t feel cheated,” she whispered. “With you beside me, I’ll never feel cheated.”

“Then it won’t be a dream! We’ll live it!” he told her fiercely.

“I hope so,” she murmured, the past prodding her suddenly. “I hope we can.”

Travis lifted his head and looked down at her, frowning a little. But before he could speak, a knock sounded at their door. Trying to bring a smile to her sober face, he groused softly,
“Wouldn’t you know we’d have company just when I want you to myself.”

He was rewarded by her smile and kissed her quickly before rising and heading for the door, which he swung open with the intention of getting rid of their visitor fast.

Matt Preston stood there, looking at Travis with his unreadable blue eyes. They were much the same in height, and both were powerful through the shoulders, narrow at the waist. They stared at one another in silence for a long moment.

Then Travis stepped back and gestured for the older man to enter. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he knew that Preston brought with him Saber’s past, and that it was time for them to face it.

Preston said nothing until the door was closed behind him and Travis had moved to stand with unconscious protectiveness near Saber’s shoulder; she was on her feet and gazing steadily at the older man.

But he didn’t return her stare. Instead, he looked at Travis, his expression still inscrutable. “You
trust her,” he said. “Without knowing, you trust her.”

“I trust her,” Travis replied evenly.

Preston nodded as though some private deduction had been confirmed. Then he looked at Saber. In one hand, he held a large manila envelope. “And you trust him.”

“Yes.”

He held out the envelope to her.

Without looking, Saber took it and tore it neatly in half before handing it back to him.

Preston looked down at the torn envelope, his mouth twisting a little. “I thought you’d do that. Funny—I didn’t read it, either.”

Saber looked quickly at the envelope and saw that the flap was still sealed. Then her eyes lifted to Preston’s. “Why?”

“Because … because I heard you sing. I got the report and went looking for you, and you were singing. I knew then that whatever was in this envelope wouldn’t matter … to either of us.”

“I told you it wouldn’t.”

He nodded. “Yes, you did. And I knew then that
I’d lost you. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

She reached out quickly to touch his arm but said nothing.

The older man took a sighing breath, then nodded. Silently, he turned on his heel and left the cottage, closing the door behind him.

Quietly, Travis said, “He’s your father.”

S
ABER TURNED TO
stare at him. After a moment, she smiled. “You guessed. I thought you would.”

“I guessed. When I could think clearly, I realized it was the only thing that made sense.” Curious, he added, “What was the report about?”

“You,” she answered as she sat down on the couch. “From the day you were born until now, it contained everything Matt’s investigators could find about you.”

“Why?” He sat down beside her, knowing the answer.

“He was trying to protect me,” she said.

“Protect you from me?”

“You. Anyone who could hurt me.” Saber sighed softly, searching for words. He knew, but it was important—so important—that he
understand.
“Have you ever watched a magician work, Travis?”

He frowned. “Yes. So?”

“Sleight of hand. Legerdemain. To make an illusion convincing, the magician creates a plausible diversion; the audience is so busy watching the diversion that they never see the trick.” She sighed. “Matt Preston created a diversion years ago, Travis.”

“A son,” he murmured.

She nodded. “A son born and raised in secret. A nameless, faceless son, secure in his anonymity.” She smiled, a twisted smile that had alerted Travis unconsciously. “Matt pulled the trick of the century … and he got away with it. The secret son was
so diverting that no one ever thought to look for a daughter.”

Travis sighed. “I knew about Preston’s past because I’d researched it,” he said. “And you were just the right age. Then, when I thought of the blankness of your past … it fit. It all fit.”

“After losing his first two children and his wife to tragedy, he wasn’t about to lose me. So Matt directed everyone’s attention to a fictitious son, and while the press scrambled to find that son, he was able to watch his daughter grow.”

“But—all these years,” Travis protested. “There was never the least hint.”

“Matt spent a fortune,” she said dryly. “And he has the ability to win intense loyalty from friends and employees. You were right when you guessed I’d attended school outside this country. A succession of schools—under assumed names. Select, expensive schools, where children of the very rich were hidden away like the precious offspring of a rare breed. I had a number of fictitious backgrounds, all ultimately untraceable—like most of the other kids I went to school with.”

“Then you didn’t see much of … of your father?”

“More than you’d think, given the secrecy. There was always an aunt or uncle—employees or friends of Matt’s—to come for me at vacation or holidays, a jet to whisk me away to wherever he happened to be. He was reclusive in his personal life; security was everywhere.” Again the twisted smile. “Many of the ‘friends’ of my childhood wore coats specially cut to hide the guns they carried to protect me; I thought of them as uncles. Alex, for instance, has known me all my life.”

“You poor kid,” Travis said.

Saber laughed softly. “Oh, I was a princess. Guarded, pampered, spoiled. Always the best of everything. And Matt loved me; I never doubted that. He loved me so much he spent twenty-six years pretending to the world that I never existed.”

She gazed into distance and memory. “It wasn’t easy for him. I could never even call him by anything but his name for fear someone would hear and guess the truth. And he was terrified of losing me the way he’d lost everyone else who mattered
to him. When I was small, every upset stomach or cold threw him into a blind panic. He worried about accidents, about kidnapping if my identity became known. And when I was older … well, there were other worries.”

Travis knew now why Saber hadn’t dreamed of castles and princes. She had led what most would have considered a fairy-tale existence; what Saber had hungered for had been a quiet, gentle reality.

He cleared his throat. “What other worries?”

“Men. Whether I wanted it or not, I stood to inherit an empire. That’s quite an inducement for an ambitious man. Matt was afraid I’d be taken advantage of, that I was too … innocent and easily hurt.”

“And you were,” Travis murmured, remembering the studio photo of a delicate, gentle face.

“Once I was.” She looked at him intently. “I was nineteen when I thought I fell in love. I was at school in Switzerland. I told Matt how I felt, because I’d promised him I’d never tell anyone who I was without his approval. He flew over a couple of days later—with a report.” Saber shook her head.
“And the report was too complete to be denied. It seemed that this man I thought I loved had tried more than once to marry money. He didn’t know who I was, but he knew
what
I was.”

“What happened?”

“Another school. Another name.”

“No.” Travis reached to take her hand, gazing at her steadily. “What happened?”

She knew what he was asking. “I cried. Oh, not for that shallow man, or for the loss of him. I cried because … until then, I hadn’t known what Matt was protecting me from.”

“Saber …”

She gestured slightly, pleadingly, needing to tell it all now and, if possible, put the past behind her. Travis nodded.

“I don’t want you to think I wasn’t happy. I was, for the most part. Especially when I could be with Matt. But the only thing I ever wanted was the one thing Matt could never give me.”

“A normal life?”

Saber nodded. “Matt’s kind of notoriety is a very rare thing. I could put a year of fame behind
me because there’s nothing as dead as old news and yesterday’s legends. But Matt … he’s a
world-mover.
If he spent the remainder of his days in total seclusion, the world wouldn’t forget. Wouldn’t leave him alone. He learned to live with that. But in the end, I couldn’t.”

“Life in a fishbowl.” Travis shook his head. “But it wasn’t really that for you, was it?”

For a moment, she was silent; then she sighed. “No. It was the world in a fishbowl, and I was outside it. It was so hard to find an identity for myself. No name, no past I could claim.
Who
I was … was so much bigger than
what
I was—and yet who I was, I couldn’t claim. I was so confused for such a long time. I could—could have raised an army to guard me with a word, but I couldn’t point to a speck on the map and say, ‘That’s home.’”

He squeezed her hand. “Was that when you decided on a career?”

“Yes. I never wanted fame, Travis. I just wanted to … to take care of myself. To make some small mark on the world as myself—not Matt Preston’s daughter.”

“He couldn’t have been happy about that.”

She laughed hollowly. “No. Oh, no. He wasn’t a bit happy.” Then her face tightened. “I knew what I was doing to him. And for me to choose a career as a
singer
… up onstage in front of people, unprotected. Crazies taking shots at anyone with a claim to celebrity. We argued for months.” She paused. “I’d never argued with him before.”

“And he let you go.”

“Yes, he let me go. He would have wrapped me in cotton wool if I’d let him, but he knew I wouldn’t. The only thing I’d let him do for me was to fabricate yet another fictional background.”

“Saber Duncan was born.”

“Yes. He insisted on providing a checking account and charge cards until I was on my feet. And we agreed that I’d never tell anyone who I was.” She sighed. “I even agreed on birth control, because he was still so worried that someone would take advantage of me. Then I went out on my own.” She smiled ruefully. “And failed.”

“Those first two records?”

“Horrible, weren’t they?”