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He made a disgusted face. I hate gourmet. Only eat it when I m having dinner at my mother s.
How is your mom, by the way?
Rachel suddenly got an image of Travis s petite, dark-haired mother, remembering how the woman
had sat in the front row of the bleachers for every football game Travis had played. Though the Gages had
always been wealthy, Travis s parents would show up at the school dressed casually, eat hot dogs and sip
sodas, and cheer their son on. If she remembered correctly, Lauren Gage had also organized every charity
and fundraising event Jefferson High had put on, from bake sales to car washes.
A far cry from Rachel s mother. Hattie had never even stepped foot into that school, skipped every
parents night to get drunk, and used her daughters report cards as drink coasters. Funny how the Gages,
the owners of one of the largest software companies in the country, found the time to involve themselves in
their son s life, while Hattie Foster had never spared a single second for her daughters.
Mom s doing great, actually, Travis replied, jarring Rachel from her bitter thoughts. She just got
appointed as the activity director of the country club and she s having a blast organizing posh parties and
ladies bridge nights. He chuckled fondly.
Rachel ignored the envy creeping up her throat. I don t get you. When he arched a brow, she felt
compelled to continue. Instead of spending your days lounging in the country club and enjoying your
wealth, you choose to work as a detective. I bet you don t even cash the checks the department gives you.
A small grin tugged at his delicious mouth. My checks go directly to charity, he admitted.
See?
What do you want me to say? he said with a shrug. Believe me, I like having money. I don t have
to struggle with bills or groceries, have a housekeeper who cooks and cleans for me, a house that I own and
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Hidden Desires
not rent. But money isn t everything. I have no desire to sit around in a country club, drinking scotch and
playing billiards with billionaires and tycoons. I need to feel like I m doing something worthwhile.
Because of your college friend? She paused, finding the courage to add, And your wife?
A distant look crossed his features. Partly, yes. He let out a breath. Somebody needs to provide
families with closure about their lost loved ones. Somebody needs to save He stopped abruptly.
She met his gaze and held it. So you see yourself as some sort of savior then?
He didn t answer for a moment, and when he finally spoke, he changed the subject all together. I
talked to Karen Greenley today.
She frowned, torn between pushing the previous subject and questioning this new one. She finally
chose the latter. Mrs. Greenley? Our old guidance counselor?
He nodded. Did you know Carrie went to see her every week?
No. Carrie never mentioned anything about seeing a counselor. Rachel paused. What did she tell
you?
She held her breath, suddenly not wanting to hear Travis s answer. People told counselors private
things, things they didn t want anyone else to know. What if& what if Carrie had confided in the guidance
counselor that she was considering suicide? What if there had never been a BF, never been a trip had
Carrie planned to kill herself all along?
Carrie volunteered at Chicago General, did you know that? Travis asked.
She shook her head.
Mrs. Greenley helped to set her up with the volunteer position at the hospital, as part of the
community service required of seniors.
Rachel felt a spark of confusion. She had no idea where Travis was going with this. Okay. So Carrie
volunteered at the hospital. What else?
Hesitation entered his eyes, and Rachel s heart began to pound as dozens of scenarios entered her
mind. Travis, please.
She saw him take a breath. Carrie told Mrs. Greenley that she d grown close to one of the doctors at
the hospital. A surgeon. He exhaled deeply. She never mentioned the man s name, but Mrs. Greenley
said she got the feeling Carrie really cared for this man.
Rachel chewed on her lower lip. A doctor? Carrie had never mentioned anything about getting close
to a doctor. Hell, she d never mentioned volunteering at the hospital.
Rachel, your sister was seventeen. You do realize that if this man was a surgeon, he had to be quite a
lot older than her, right?
She stared at Travis s face and realized what he was saying. You think Carrie was sleeping with an
older man? she demanded.
He shrugged. It s possible.
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Elle Kennedy
Fury filled her blood. No, it s not possible. Carrie wouldn t& Her voice cracked. She wouldn t do
that. She didn t sleep around, especially with older men. She wasn t my& Her voice stopped altogether.
She wasn t my mother, she d been about to say. But no way would she utter that in front of Travis. No
way would she admit to the shameful behavior of Hattie Foster.
I m not attacking Carrie here, Travis said in a husky voice. I m just considering all angles. If
Carrie had fallen in love with an older man, he might have been the one who offered to take her away. And
even if they weren t romantically involved, this doctor could still be BF.
Her anger dissipated. You re right. I know you weren t attacking my sister. I m sorry.
Travis reached across the table for her hand. When his long fingers stroked her upturned palm, Rachel
trembled. God, she didn t even know what she was feeling anymore. One minute she hated this man, the
next she was attracted to him. One minute she was angry with him, the next she felt as though he was the
only person who could heal her turmoil.
She stared at him, and for one brief moment, sexual tension sizzled in the air. She moistened her lips,
but the air was so hot they quickly dried up again.
Rachel, he said.
And then the waitress approached the table with their food, and the sizzling dissolved into the smoky
room.
Looks good, she managed to say.
They ate quickly and quietly, and once she was done, she pushed her plate away and rubbed her
stomach. Bar food wasn t that bad, she decided. It sure beat cold Chinese leftovers.
You have ketchup on your chin.
Her cheeks flushed as she saw the amused smile curving his mouth. She reached for the napkin in
front of her, but Travis intercepted her hand. He picked up the napkin and dabbed at her chin, his dark hair
tickling her nose as he leaned forward. His shampoo smelled like cherries. A very feminine scent for such a
masculine man, yet it made him all the more tempting. She breathed deeply, hoping to brand the aroma into
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