Larger than Life by Kay Hooper

history was filled with tragedy. His firstborn son had been kidnapped as an infant, involving law enforcement agencies in a desperate search that had made headlines for months until the child had been found brutally slain; the kidnappers had never been caught. Preston’s frail young wife had been shattered, her health nearly destroyed. A second child had been stillborn, and Amy Preston had died giving birth to her third child, a son.
    It was said that Matt Preston had been very nearly mad at that point in his life. Cloaking the birth of his son in secrecy, he had refused even to let the public know the name of the child. Usingevery bit of the considerable influence he had, he made certain that his son could never be a target for kidnappers. No photographs were released, and the boy’s nurse shared her duties with a tremendous security staff. During the years that followed, while public curiosity was still strong, not a single fact leaked out about the Preston boy.
    Travis had tried to trace the child at one point a few years back but had found absolutely nothing. Even the exact date of birth had been buried too deeply to be found. Those closest to Preston, friends and employees, were incredibly loyal and amazingly silent.
    Now, watching the lean man as he discarded his robe and dove into the pool, Travis found himself wondering about Matt Preston’s son. Where was he now? He was beyond school age and presumably led a life of some sort—but what kind of life? Preston had never remarried, throwing himself into his financial empire to the exclusion of all else. Did he even see his son?
    With sunglasses hiding his interest, Travis studied Preston. A tall man, lean and hard-muscled, hehad thick silver hair and rapier-keen blue eyes. His face was an expressionless mask, but filled with character and almost unlined. He looked the hard man his life had made him, but Travis knew he supported countless charities and was known to possess an almost compulsive interest in the welfare of children; rumor had it that the only thing holding the power to enrage him was neglect or abuse of a child—any child.
    Travis was pulled from thought as Cory approached the pool, stunning in a black bikini that turned the heads of all three men. Even the bodyguard, Travis noted with suppressed amusement, allowed his mouth to fall open briefly.
    “Oh, damn,” Cory said, surveying her guests with disfavor, “I thought the pool would be deserted this early.”
    Travis, closest to her, pulled his sunglasses down his nose and peered at her. “Are you planning to
swim
in that?” he asked politely.
    She lifted an eyebrow. “It’s anchored more securely than it appears to be.
    “It’d have to be to swim in,” he agreed.
    Matt Preston pulled himself up the ladder and accepted the towel his bodyguard tossed to him. “Morning, Cory,” he greeted, the icy eyes warming and a smile curving his mouth.
    “Matt.” She nodded to the bodyguard. “Hi, Alex.”
    “Good morning, Cory.” The bodyguard’s voice was deep and even.
    “Have you three met?” Without waiting for an answer, she cheerfully introduced the men before tossing her towel aside and stepping down into the shallow end of the pool. The men made polite noises at each other, then the bodyguard went back to his book as Matt sat down in a lounge beside Travis.
    In spite of his expressionless face, Matt Preston turned out to be a very charming man. He seemed very much at ease, asking Travis about several of his books that he’d obviously read. They talked while Cory swam energetically in the pool, both turning their attention to her as she climbed out and grabbed her towel.
    Sinking down in the third lounge chair, Corysmiled at both men. “Matt, I told Mark you’d gotten in late last night. He went off to paint the dawn or something.”
    Matt’s face softened. “I’m glad he’s here.”
    Suddenly alert. Travis watched the older man covertly. Was
that
it? Could the vague, artistic Mark