rush of adrenaline. It had been so rewarding to help in Sirie’s rescue, working in a team and establishing a relationship with the victim, persuading her to put her trust in himself and Kerry. It had been worthwhile—and how long had it been since he’d felt like that at the end of a day’s work? A few years ago he’d have given anything to achieve what he had done in the media world, but suddenly it was beginning to seem a very hollow world.
He rose restlessly from his chair, went to the back door and opened it. The wind had died down and it had stopped raining, and there was a sweet country-fresh smell from the fields. He took a deep gulp of the crisp air into his lungs; he’d forgotten how much he’d loved Braxton Falls, the little valleys and the rolling hills. It had been the best part of his childhood, growing up in the countryside. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it since he’d left six years ago after falling out so spectacularly with Frank. His father had wanted them both to take over the practice when he retired—but Denovan had known that working with his half-brother was an impossibility. After what had happened, they could never live near each other again, and so he’d ended up in London and his life had taken a very different direction from anything he’d imagined.
He closed the door and turned back abruptly into the room. He would have to go and collect Archie from Daphne’s house, and then tomorrow start thinking seriously about his future, because it wasn’t just his future that was affected but his dear little son’s—and he was the most important thing of all.
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