by Lisa Jackson
“When Dad died, all I heard about was what damage you would do if you were elected. Now, just lately, your accident hit the front page. I couldn’t get away from you.” Her voice softened. “I thought that if I came here for a couple of weeks, I could think things out, sort out my feelings.”
“And have you?”
Her smile was frail and filled with self-mockery. “I thought I had.” Her lips pursed into a thoughtful pout. “Now I’m not so sure.” Emotions she had thought long dead were reawakening. She couldn’t help but remember the feel of his hands against her skin, or the way his eyes darkened in passion when she smiled suggestively.
The rustic room seemed to shrink and become more intimate. Ashley had to concentrate to keep her thoughts from wandering dangerously to a distant past.
He stared down at her, attempting to look past the innocent allure in her eyes. She had always been a puzzle to him, enigmatic and beguiling; the only woman he had ever let touch his soul. He had vowed never to make that mistake again, and he had been able to keep that silent promise to himself until tonight, when he gazed into the intelligent complexity of her eyes. At this moment he wanted her more desperately than he had ever wanted anything in his life. “Do you want me to stay?”
She didn’t avoid his penetrating gaze. “Yes. I’ve missed you, Trevor.” Giving up all the thin pretenses, she faced what she had tried to deny for eight solitary years. “I’ve missed you so badly.”
He forced himself to look past the tears welling in her eyes. “Not badly enough to come back.”
“I couldn’t.” She shook her head and fought the tears. “I think you understand that my pride wouldn’t allow it.”
“I’ve never been able to understand anything about you.”
Standing, she faced him. “Only because you never really tried.”
Slowly his strong arms encircled her waist and pulled her body gently to his. There was a restraint in his touch and torment in his gaze.
“I must be out of my mind,” he muttered to himself as his head lowered and his lips brushed hers. The pressure of the kiss increased. Ashley sighed through parted lips at the power of his arms and the warmth of his mouth covering hers. The faint taste of wine passed from his lips to hers and the familiar taste brought back memories as bittersweet as the past they had shared together.
Her knees seemed to melt with the warm persuasion of his embrace. She touched him lightly on the shoulders and could feel the tightening of lean, corded muscles beneath her fingertips.
His tongue rimmed her lips before slipping between her teeth to explore the secrets of her mouth. It touched her familiarly, sliding seductively against the polish of her teeth.
Trembling with a wave of passion, her fingers dug into the firm flesh of his shoulders. The forgotten ache of womanly need uncoiled wantonly within her, forcing her blood to race wildly through her veins and pound in her ears. Her breathing became rapid and shallow. With each flickering touch of his supple tongue against hers, her desire for him increased and the uncontrollable yearning became more heated; a throbbing distraction demanding release.
He lifted his head from hers, but continued to press her body against his, letting her feel the taut rigidity of each of his muscles straining against his clothing. “I want you,” he whispered hoarsely against her hair. It was a statement as honest as the cold mountain night. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman.”
She swallowed against the dryness that had settled in her throat. “And I want you,” she murmured.
His penetrating eyes studied the mystery of her. “With you it’s more than passion or lust. It always has been.”
Her heart nearly missed a beat. If only she could believe that he loved her . . . just a little. “You’ve always had a way with words, Trevor. That’s why you’ve done so well in politics, I suppose.”
“Are you accusing me of distorting the truth?” His voice was thick and slightly mocking. A hint of laughter danced in his eyes. Ashley was captivated by his smile—the slightly off-center grin she had grown to love that summer eight years before.
“Stretching the truth,” she corrected.
“In order to seduce you?”
“To get your way.”
“If I’d had my way with you, things would be a lot different between us.” His fingers wrapped possessively over her wrist. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“I just want . . . to be with you,” she whispered, rising onto her toes and kissing his cheek. Softly she outlined the shape of his brows with the tip of her finger. Everything she did seemed so natural, just as it had in the past. Trevor groaned with the frustration tormenting him. He noticed the innocence in her clear green eyes and the heat burning in his loins began to ache. “Ashley,” he ground out, “I don’t want you to do anything you might regret.”
“I won’t.”
He clenched his teeth together and forcefully willed his passion aside. “What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel obligated to me.”
“I don’t, Trevor,” she replied, showing just the hint of a dimple. “Not anymore.”
Her hand pressed against his cheek and he could stand the bittersweet torment no longer. With a sensual movement, he turned his head and touched the tip of his tongue to her palm, letting the moist heat from his body flow into hers.
“Trevor . . .” she moaned, her voice fading into the night. “Oh, Trevor.” She shuddered with the pain of ragged emotions, the same feelings she had been denying for eight agonizing years. His tongue created a moist path between her fingers and she felt as if her entire body were ignited by his warm touch. Her throat became dry, her voice a breathless whisper. “I’ve always loved you,” she vowed.
“I want to know that you’re mine,” he said, steeling himself against the desire running rampant in his veins and the passion dominating his mind.
“I always have been.”
“Ashley, don’t. Don’t lie to me. Not now.”
“I’m not—”
“Prove it.”
“If only I could,” she wished.
“Let me make love to you.” It was a simple request. His dark blue eyes bored into her, exposing the depths of his torment. Her feelings for him were dangerous. They entrapped her in the same words of love that had betrayed her in the past. His offer was tempting, yet she hesitated, afraid of losing herself to him as she had once before.
“There’s nothing I want more,” she admitted.
“But you’re afraid.”
“There’s no future for us. . . .” Her dark brows had pulled into a worried frown. With all of her heart she wanted to lie beside Trevor, to find the exhilaration once again of becoming one with him. But the old fears resurfaced.
“Shhh. Don’t think about tomorrow.” His fingers caught in the thick strands of her blue-black hair, pulling her head to his. For a delicious moment, his lips brushed over hers, lingering just a fraction of a second. “Let me love you, sweet lady,” he whispered.
Her response was to let go of the fear and the pain of the past. Her surrender was complete. “Please,” she murmured. Reaching upward she twined her fingers in his hair and turned her lips upward to accept the warm invitation of his mouth.
“It’s been so long,” he groaned as his lips pressed against hers and conveyed to her his overwhelming masculinity.
Her heart thudded irregularly with the urgency of his kiss. Desire, hot and fluid, crept up her veins as she felt his tongue meet hers. Without breaking the heated kiss, he shifted and lifted her off the floor to cradle her against his chest. Trevor began to carry her up the stairs to the loft.
“I can walk,” she protested, thinking of his recent injury.
“Not a chance,” he replied. “You might change your mind.”
“Never.” Tears of happiness welled in her eyes as she looked up at the angular face of the man she loved.
When he reached the top of the stairs, Trevor didn’t hesitate. He strode across t
he small loft and dropped Ashley onto the bed, before lying beside her. The room was shadowed, but in the pale illumination from the skylight, Ashley could make out the masculine angles of his face.
She felt the touch of his hand as he caressed her cheek and she read the desire smoldering in the depths of his eyes. His fingers slid seductively down her throat to linger at the neckline of her sweater.
Closing her eyes, she leaned against him and let out a shuddering sigh when his fingers dipped below the ribbing at her neck to tentatively touch the swell of her breast. Her hands worked at the buttons of his shirt, letting it fall open to expose his solidly muscled chest. The bandage, a swath of white against his dark skin, reminded Ashley of the reasons he had come to the cabin, the reasons he was here with her now. Her fingers gently outlined the white gauze.
Slowly he lifted the sweater over her head. Shivering slightly when the cool air touched her skin, she was only aware that she wanted Trevor as desperately as she ever had. She needed him now, tonight. She was destined to lie in the shelter of his arms, feel the strength of his body straining against hers. And there would be no regrets. Tonight she belonged to Trevor alone.
He watched her silently, his warm hands touching her cool skin. She swallowed against the arid feeling in the back of her mouth when his hand cupped her breast. The ache within her burned more savagely. When his head lowered and he touched the flimsy fabric of her bra with his lips, she thought she would die in the sweet agony ripping through her. Her breasts pushed against the thin barrier of lace and silk as his tongue wet the sheer fabric and the cool night air caressed her skin. He groaned as his mouth captured the hidden nipple straining against the taut lace.
Ashley clutched his head against her, exhilarating in the torment of his lovemaking. Tears ran down her cheeks as he unclasped her bra and her breasts were unbound. His fingers moved in slow rhythmic circles over one nipple while his tongue rimmed the other.
“Oh, God, Trevor,” she pleaded. “Make love to me, please make love to me.”
His hands found the waistband of her jeans, and his fingers dipped deliciously close to her skin. She was unaware of the precise moment when he removed the rest of her clothes as well as his own. She was only conscious of the sweet torment heating within her, a wild tempest of passion only he could calm.
When at last he moved over her, she was rewarded by the feel of his firm muscles pressed urgently over her body. His bare legs, soft with dark hair, entwined with hers. His hands touched her rib cage as if he were sculpting her, and his lips, hard with passion and warm with desire, molded over hers. “Love me, Trevor,” she cried, unashamed of her tears.
“I always have. . . .” He lifted his head and gazed into her soft green eyes. Her dark hair was spread over the white pillow. He knew now what he had always suspected: Ashley Stephens was the most incredibly beautiful and intelligent woman he had ever met.
Burying his head in the soft curve of her neck, he claimed her in a sensuously slow union of his flesh with hers. The warmth within her began slowly to uncoil as he found that part of her he had discovered sometime in a stormy past. He tasted the salty tears of happiness that ran down her cheeks; he felt the heated moment of her submission and stiffened when her fingernails dug into the muscles of his back.
Ashley whispered his name into the night when the final moment of surrender brought them together and bridged the black abyss of eight lost years.
As his body fell against hers, he held her as if he expected her to vanish. The corded muscles of his arms offered the gentle assurance that he did love her and always had. If only Ashley could believe him. If only she could think that Trevor would never leave.
Chapter Six
Sunlight was streaming through the windows when Ashley opened her eyes on Christmas morning. She snuggled deep beneath the colorful patchwork quilt and felt the warmth of Trevor’s body against her own. He made a low sound in the back of his throat and the arm draped possessively across her abdomen tightened before his even breathing resumed.
Ashley watched his dark profile against the stark white sheets. In slumber, some of the harshness had disappeared from his features; the tension that had been with him the last few days had faded with the night. The lines around his eyes had softened and the pinched corners of his mouth were relaxed. His hair fell over his eyebrows. Ashley lovingly brushed it out of his face while she pushed herself up on one elbow and stared down at the only man she had ever loved. Why, Trevor, she thought sadly, why can’t we live like this forever? Why do we continually do battle with each other?
The quilt covering Trevor had slipped downward, exposing his chest to the cold morning air. Ashley’s eyes followed the rippling lines of his muscular body to rest on the white gauze wrapped tightly over his torso. Gingerly she touched the bandage, frowning thoughtfully. Was it possible that Claud could have been responsible for Trevor’s accident? It seemed unlikely, and yet Ashley knew that Claud could be cruel and ruthless if he felt cornered or threatened. And Claud had mentioned to Ashley that he considered Trevor’s senatorial bid a direct threat to Stephens Timber. To what lengths would her bitter cousin go?
Her touch disturbed him. Trevor opened a sleepy blue eye and smiled when he saw that Ashley was already awake.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured. The hand that had been curved over the bend in her waist moved seductively upward until his thumb rubbed against her rib. “God, I could get used to this.” He stretched before sitting next to her and looking into the incredible allure of her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Ashley,” he whispered before bringing his face next to hers and pressing anxious lips to her mouth.
Slowly, he pushed her back against the mattress and let his weight fall carefully over her. Her breasts flattened with the welcome burden of him and slowly she slid her fingers up the solid muscles of his arms to rest on his shoulders.
When he raised his head, there was a trace of sadness in his gaze. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to wake up with you beside me,” he admitted. A wistful look stole over her refined features. Trevor traced the disbelieving arch of her brow.
Ashley felt as if her heart had swollen in her throat. “You only had to ask,” she whispered.
Something dangerous flickered in his gaze. “You were married,” he reminded her.
“That was a long time ago.”
Trevor lay over her, his supple body imprisoning hers against the bed. She didn’t move or attempt to escape from the gentle bonds of his muscles flexed possessively over hers. As she gazed into his knowing blue eyes, Ashley realized that she could never love another man. Her marriage to Richard had been a mistake from the start and it was over before it had ever begun.
“I should never have let you go,” Trevor whispered into the thick ebony silk of her hair. His body began to move rhythmically over hers, enticing the most delicious responses. Her heartbeat thudded irregularly in her chest. “I should have chased you down and forced you to marry me.”
“You wouldn’t have had to force me, Trevor. That was the one thing in the world I wanted.”
“And the only thing that Lazarus Stephens’s money couldn’t buy.”
She let out a ragged sigh and looked beyond him to the exposed rafters of the ceiling. Her breathing was becoming shallow and rapid. “Must we always argue?”
“I can think of better things to do . . .”
Her fingers tangled in his hair. “ So can I.”
Trevor lowered his head, his lips claiming hers in a kiss filled with passion and despair. His hands rubbed against her skin, softly caressing her body and making her blood warm as it ran through her veins.
The magic of his touch evoked the most primitive of responses within her. Liquid heat circulated and swirled upward through her body as she felt the firm muscles of his chest brush erotically across her breasts, teasing the dark nipples to expectant peaks aching with desire.
His lips touched and teased her, inflaming the wanton fires of passion to
surge through her veins until she began to move beneath him. Her hands strayed downward, touching the rippling muscles of his back and outlining each tense sinew with her fingertips.
Trevor closed his eyes and groaned in helpless surrender. His hands began to knead her breasts and his knees impatiently parted her legs, testing her willingness by rubbing himself gently against her abdomen.
A soft gasp escaped from her throat, and when he lowered his head to capture her parted lips with his, Ashley thought she would die with wanting him. His tongue explored and plundered the sweet delights of her mouth while he gripped her shoulders firmly with his hands and entered the dark warmth of her womanhood.
Ashley’s mind was swirling with erotic images. Her fingers dug into his back as she felt the womanly pressure within her build. Slowly, as if enjoying the torture of denial, he pushed closer to her, touching her most intimate core, closing the space that held her away from him and savoring the sweet agony of her cry.
“Please,” she whispered throatily, her glazed eyes looking into his. Her throat was dry, the words a strain. “Take me, Trevor,” she begged.
The light of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes as he began to thrust against her. He watched in fascination while she responded in kind, holding on to him in desperate need, as if she expected him to disappear into the cool morning air.
Sweat beaded on his brow and glistened against his naked skin as he restrained himself, waiting until he felt the warmth of her explode in a liquid burst of satiation. Then he, too, let go and felt the sudden rush of blinding fire as he sealed their union of flesh and mind and fell heavily against her with a moan of triumphant release.
“I love you, Ashley,” he claimed. “God forgive me, but I’ve always loved you. Even when you were married to another man.”