CHAPTER TWO

Tyler sat thunderstruck, scarcely able to fathom the ironic circumstances that had brought him to Arizona to face Rayna after nineteen years. With her own reaction confirming the realization that had slowly dawned on him the past half hour, he stared back at her, his pulse hammering with the final shock of recognition.

"That's the prosecuting attorney," Sheldon Freestone had whispered to him when they'd first stepped into the courtroom. "She's a real bulldog. We have our work cut out for us," he'd added begrudgingly.

Never in a million years would Tyler have imagined that the woman with dark wavy hair would turn out to be Rayna Daniels from Summersville, South Carolina. But there'd been something about her right from the start. Perhaps it was her voice and the faint remains of long southern vowels. Then there was the familiar tilt of her chin when he'd glimpsed her profile. Yes, she was the right height, he'd acknowledged, his blood rushing as he sized up the petite figure. He edged forward for a better look. For the greater part of his life, he'd guarded in a special corner of his heart the memory of that sixteen-year old beauty, his first and only love. It was not until he'd stared into those unforgettable violet eyes that he'd been absolutely sure. It was a moment charged with an emotion more powerful than anything he'd experienced in his entire adult life.

An exclamation of surprise lodged in Rayna's throat as she turned away. The intense look she'd just exchanged with Tyler made her feel as though she'd been suspended in time. She wrestled with emotions so diverse, so profound, she dared not attempt to identify them. It was a mighty struggle just to maintain calm.

What were the odds, she mused incredulously, that of all the people on the face of the earth, she'd find him here in a Tucson courtroom, associated with her case, possibly the father of the very person she was attempting to convict? How well she remembered those expressive brown eyes, the way they would sparkle when he laughed and the power they'd had to melt away her resistance. Oh, God! She had to be out of her mind to be inviting these thoughts now. No, she couldn't allow herself to view this stranger as the Tyler Brockwell she had spent the majority of her life trying to forget.

She tried to dismiss him from her mind and concentrate on the report in front of her. But his face supplanted the words on the page, a face she'd known only too well. He looked very much the same except for the determined lines around his mouth and the slightest touch of gray highlighting his thick brown hair. Even with her back to him, she was acutely aware of his eyes on her. She desperately wanted to believe that she had made a mistake, that her eyes had deceived her, that she was simply imagining him there. But she could not bring herself to turn around a second time to verify her suspicion. The truth was she knew full well that he was no figment of her imagination.

While trying to get his bearings after the shock of seeing Rayna, Tyler noticed Sheldon Freestone signaling him to approach the barrier. He rose and moved forward to meet him.

"I did the best I could to discredit the witness's testimony," Freestone whispered, "but I don't think the judge is buying it. At this point it's unlikely there will be a dismissal. We'll have an opportunity to plead these charges down, but if not, you'd best brace yourself for trial."

Tyler squared his jaw. "Give it to me straight. What are my son's chances?"

"Hard to tell at this juncture, too many variables. But I'll give it my best shot."

Tyler returned to his seat, disheartened by Sheldon's less-than-encouraging statement. The possibility that his son could be sentenced to prison left him feeling hollow. He was convinced that, to some degree, the unfortunate incident was his fault. Would Scott have left home three weeks ago, without a word, if they'd had a good relationship and better communication?

After receiving the unexpected call for help ten days ago, he'd rushed to his son's side, hoping against hope that they could begin to mend their tenuous relationship. Instead, his presence had spawned only guarded arguments and icy recriminations between them. Tyler felt more alienated from Scott's affections than ever and fervently wished things had been different. And now, Rayna's unforeseen role in this predicament added a unique and astonishing dimension.

Rayna sat stiffly, wishing she could somehow make herself invisible. She expelled a sigh of relief when the judge finally announced that he had found probable cause that a crime had been committed. He affirmed the current release conditions and ruled that the case be bound over to Superior Court for trial, setting the date for April 9th. He had barely rendered his decision when she began collecting her files and jamming them into her briefcase. Poised to make a speedy exit from the courtroom, she turned to leave, but was intercepted by Donna Platt, a defense attorney she would face in court later that same afternoon.

Huddled with Scott near the side door, Tyler summoned his concentration as he listened to Freestone explain the ramifications of the judge's decision and outline the legal strategy he felt they should pursue. Involuntarily, his gaze strayed in Rayna's direction as she stood with her back to him conversing with another woman.

"Hey, listen, I gotta scram," Scott announced, eyeing his watch as he backed away. "They're kinda shorthanded at the restaurant today." He nodded curtly in his father's direction. "Catch you later."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler noticed that Rayna had concluded her conversation and was now heading towards the door. The compelling need to speak to her suddenly took precedence over everything else. "Ah...thanks, Sheldon," he said in a distracted tone, hastily pumping Freestone's hand. "I have to make a few phone calls myself."

"Wait a minute. We have a lot more to discuss," Freestone countered with a disapproving frown.

"That we do," Tyler concurred, watching the door swing shut behind Rayna. "I will a...I'll call you later." Judging by the bemused expression on Freestone's face, he knew his behavior must seem odd indeed. But he couldn't help it. Fate had brought him together again with Rayna and there was no force on earth capable of keeping him away from her. He rushed out the door and paused in the marble hallway, his eyes searching the corridor until he spotted her at the far end stepping onto an escalator. By God, she'd moved fast! Seeing how she'd swept out of the courtroom without so much as a glance in his direction, he was certain she was attempting to evade him. He broke into a run, shouting, "Rayna, wait!"

The nape of her neck tingled when she heard the sound of his voice behind her. Gripped by an unreasonable sense of cold panic, she hurried up the last few steps, almost tripping in her haste, and made a beeline for her office.

Tyler bounded up the escalator three steps at a time, overtaking several startled riders. Determined, and more than a little annoyed at her attempt to elude him, he ran faster. After all these years, after all he'd been through, she damned well owed him an explanation.

Rayna's sense of relief was short-lived. Just as she reached for the door, she felt his hand on her arm. She whirled to face him. "Take your hands off me."

"What was the point of that steeple chase?" he panted, quickly releasing her. "Why the hell are you acting like you don't know who I am?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd speak to me in a civil tone." She fought to sustain a façade of indifference.

"I'm sorry," he said, softening his tone. "I...I need to talk with you."

She gave him a hard look. "To be honest, I wouldn't know what to say to you."

"Hello would be a good start."

"Goodbye is better."

"Five minutes is all I ask."

"I can't. It's unethical. Am I right to assume that Scott Brockwell is your son?"

Tyler flinched, taken aback by her harsh tone. "Yes, he's my son, but what I have to say doesn't concern him. It concerns us."

"Us? There is no us and hasn't been for...for...light years! Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do." She started to open the door to the reception area, but he moved to block her escape. "Wait just a minute. I have about a thousand questions that need answers."

Rayna wondered if her face was as red as it felt. "About what?"

"About you. About what happened after that...last night we were together."

"That was then, this is now," Rayna replied, her tone clipped and unemotional. "Whatever transpired between us no longer matters so let it go. I have." Sidestepping him, she pulled the door open, thinking to herself, what a flat-out liar you are!

He followed her inside. "Well, I haven't. Damn it, Rayna, you owe me an explanation."

The steely-eyed receptionist shot her a look of alarm. "Is there something wrong, Ms. Manchester? Shall I call security?"

Rayna hastened to soothe her. "That won't be necessary, Tammy. The gentleman is leaving." She warned him away with her eyes.

Ms. Manchester? For the first time, he noticed that she wore no wedding ring.

Noting the flare of anticipation lighting his face, Rayna feared her resolve would weaken. "Goodbye, Mr. Brockwell." Without a backward glance, she marched into her office.

Tyler stood still for a moment, feeling self-conscious and more than a little foolish as the receptionist eyed him...