Larger than Life by Kay Hooper Page A

her unless she allowed him to. That would take time. And trust. If it came at all.
    And now …
    Travis listened to that naked voice, everything stripped from it but raw emotion. He watched her fling that powerful, invisible part of herself out into a faceless audience with the savage release of an electric current gone wild, and it crackled around her.
    He had never seen her give so much, and when she stumbled from the stage he was quickly and silently there to drop the wrap around her shoulders and lead her toward the exit. They were too quick for the fans surging around the building to get a closer look at Saber; the limo pulled away even as the first shouts reached them.
    She was tense beside him in the darkness, and Travis said nothing. He remained silent during the ride to the hotel and in the elevator up to theirsuite. His first words came only when she returned to the sitting room after showering and changing into a loose robe to find the coffee he had ordered waiting for her.
    “I still don’t agree with coffee this late,” he said dryly, handing her a cup.
    “It works for me.” Saber sat down at the end of the long couch, her face nearly translucent with exhaustion.
    He sat down near her, watching her sip the coffee. “You’ll burn yourself out if you keep this up.”
    Saber smiled a little. “No. I can rest now.” Then she sent him an oblique glance. “Or can I?”
    Travis linked his fingers together and gazed down at them for a long moment. When his eyes lifted, something regretful and pained shimmered there. “I pushed,” he said.
    She knew he was referring to the day before, which had been answered by her disappearing act today. “You pushed.” She nodded. “I don’t like running away, Travis. Don’t make me run away again.”
    “All right,” he said quietly. “We’ll just get toknow each other. You need rest after tonight … after this tour … and we’ll take all the time you need for that. I promise, Saber.”
    “I’ll hold you to that,” she managed to say. The glaze of her weariness was between them, and Saber welcomed it. She didn’t want to think about anything for a while. Not what she was beginning to feel for him. Not her past or future. Nothing. At least for a while.
    “Go to bed,” he ordered gently.
    She didn’t think about arguing, either. She went to bed.
    Only the ringing of the phone disturbed their breakfast the next morning. Saber had awakened cheerful, her manner toward Travis light; clearly, she was at least willing to accept his word for the moment. And he was determined to make no more mistakes. Patience had become his watchword.
    With a faintly apologetic gesture, she rose and went to sit on the couch, lifting the receiver from its place on the end table. “Hello?”
    Travis watched her unobtrusively as he finished his meal. He saw her face change, soften, even as it turned curiously wary.
    “No, it went well,” she said into the phone. “Yes, I am, and I’m planning to take a rest. Cory’s place; it isn’t crowded this time of the year, and I’ve taken a cottage …. The landing strip in Prescott, then a car.” She frowned suddenly. “No, don’t do that. I know what I—It’s the back of beyond out there. There’s no need to—” She listened to her caller in frowning silence for a moment, then spoke wryly. “I know there’s a pad, but I’d really prefer not to make use of it …
. I’m
being unreasonable? Look, I’ll arrange it, all right? Yes, I promise. Right. Bye.”
    Saber cradled the receiver and sat frowning at Travis for a moment.
    “Is it something I’ve done?” he asked politely.
    She blinked, then smiled. “No. Do you object to helicopters?”
    “On principle, no,” he answered, taking the question at face value.
    “Good.” She picked up the receiver again andplaced a long-distance call, reaching her party almost instantly. “Cory Stewart, please. Oh, hi …. No, but you sounded harassed …. Really? Well, everybody’s