Free Bride in Barbados by Jeanne Stephens

intruded into her blissful happiness, but
only briefly. Travis continued, "The first English settlers came to the
island about a hundred years after the Caribs disappeared. It was a
rigorous life, but they planted crops that did well in the tropical
climate and the settlement grew. The first Sennett arrived before 1700.
My plantation has been in the family ever since. Eventually sugarcane
arrived and Barbados evolved into a slave society, with Africans being
brought to work on the plantations. The slaves were emancipated in the
1830's and we've been an independent nation since 1966."
    "Then your government is parliamentary, patterned on
England's?"
    He stroked her fingers idly as he nodded. "I think I told
you that my party is presently in power. There's a strong opposition
party, as well, but most members of both major parties have the best
interests of Barbados at heart."
    "You said something once about a group of people who want
to exploit the island."
    Two frown lines etched themselves between his dark brows.
"I'm sure there are that kind in every country. Our would-be exploiters
are relatively small in number, but they're powerful because the
leaders seem to have wealth and influence. They keep a low profile,
naturally. Nobody seems to know for certain exactly who the leaders
are, but we all have our suspicions." There was a hard, grim set to his
mouth. "They're nothing but petty tyrants who would like to turn the
island into a dictatorship and bleed it dry."
    Susan felt a small stab of alarm. "Is there any danger of
that happening?"
    "Not as long as I, and all the people like me who want
representative government, stay alert and take nothing for granted." He
glanced at her and saw her worried expression. His face cleared and he
chuckled. "Don't give it another thought. I tend to get carried away
when I think about what those people are trying to do, but there's
really no danger of it coming about. We have our problems, but most of
them have little to do with politics."
    "It must have been nice growing up there," Susan murmured
after a moment. "I'll bet you know everyone on the island."
    "Almost everyone. Many of the friends I grew up with
stayed on the island or returned after moving away for a while, as I
did. One friend who I want you to meet is Kay Harte, who was a
classmate of mine until I went away to college. She runs a boutique in
Bridgetown, where you'll probably be doing a lot of shopping. She keeps
up with the fashion trends in Paris and New York and has one of the
best selections of women's clothing on Barbados. I want you to have
female friends."
    She gave him an impish smile. "But no male ones? Tell me,
was Kay your teen-age sweetheart?"
    His expression was amused. "No. We were together a lot,
growing up, but we were never more than friends."
    "Good," she said contentedly. "Then I won't need to be
jealous of her."
    "You don't need to be jealous of anyone, my darling," he
said with a look that sent a delicious shiver up her backbone. A sudden
image of the children she and Travis might someday have together
flashed into her mind.
    "You're looking rather pleased with yourself," Travis told
her. "What were you thinking just then?"
    "I don't want to give you any more ideas at the moment
than you already have," she teased.
    "Tell me, woman," he ordered.
    She brought his hand to her mouth, brushing the fingers
with her lips. "I was thinking about our future children." She looked
up at him. "I hope you want children. I just realized we've never
discussed it."
    "I want
your
children very much," he
assured her, his dark eyes caressing her face. "And the sooner the
better. I'm not getting any younger, and I want to watch them grow up."
    "By all means," she said with a tinkling laugh. "Since
you're already such a tottering old gentleman, we'd better waste no
time—once we're off this plane," she added as his hand came
to rest on her thigh.
    "I want you now," he said unnecessarily.
    "I know, love," she responded softly,