PROLOGUE
His overwhelming sensation was relief.
Wasn’t he supposed to feel fury? Desolation? Bitterness? That was what he’d felt in the past when people he loved had walked away. As Riley Jackson loaded the last of his lovely wife’s possessions into his best friend’s Learjet, he expected at least an echo of that pain.
It didn’t happen. The plane was now a sliver on the horizon and he felt no desolation at all.
Maybe he was cured of this love business. He obviously didn’t have what it took to hold a relationship together and he no longer cared.
`What do you reckon, boy?’ he asked his dog, and Bustle nosed his hand in gentle query. Bustle wouldn’t miss Lisa either. Lisa had no time for dogs.
`We’re on our own now, mate,’ Riley told him as he turned to walk back to the house. The old dog limped beside him. Unlike his wife, Bustle would be loyal to the end.
Losing Bustle would be real heartache, Riley thought. That would be the real end of loving.
Bustle nosed his fingers again, and Riley stooped to give his ancient collie a gentle hug.
`I know. I don’t have you for much longer, boy, and I’ll miss you like crazy. But I’ll miss nobody else. No one is going to get close to me, ever again.’