by Lisa Jackson
“Knock it off, Ashley. I know that you’ve been checking up on me.”
Ashley’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She had to support herself by leaning a slim and sagging shoulder against the wall. Somehow, despite the dread constricting her throat, she managed to keep her voice steady.
“Of course I have. You’ve known that all along. That’s why I quit my job. I decided that Stephens Timber needed me.”
“So why are all the reports being sent to the Bend office?” Claud asked in a voice filled with gruff indignation. “It looks to me like you’re doing a major audit of the books.”
“I told you I wanted to check all of the records,” she replied evenly.
“There’s more to it than that,” Claud accused. Ashley could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.
“Just a simple, all-encompassing audit.”
“We have accountants to do that.”
“I prefer to look over everything myself.”
“You can stop whitewashing, Ashley. I know you’re up to something. I just want to know what it is.”
“Nothing all that mysterious, Claud. I just want to personally examine the books.”
“In Bend? Over Christmas? Give me a break, for Christ’s sake. You’re supposed to be on a vacation.”
“I am.”
“With the company records?” He was clearly dubious.
“Right.”
“You sure know how to have a good time,” he mocked, openly challenging her.
Ashley smiled grimly to herself. “I’m not the kind of person to shirk my responsibilities, Claud. You may as well face that fact right now. Either you can work with me or against me, but we both know who makes the ultimate decisions regarding the company.”
“And you just love to rub my nose in it, don’t you?” Claud said disgustedly.
“Only when I’m forced to.” She let out a weary sigh of frustration and tried to assuage her cousin’s growing suspicions. “Look, Claud, what I’m doing is merely routine. Now that my job with the college is over, I think I should spend as much time as possible acquainting myself with the company books. Otherwise I won’t be all that effective, will I?
“I intend to be more than just a figurehead with this corporation. It’s my duty to learn everything there is to know about Stephens Timber.”
“So you called John Ellis? Why didn’t you get in touch with me?”
Nervously she twisted the phone cord, but she forced her voice to remain determined. “I did. Remember? You were the one who balked at sending me the information I needed.”
“So you went behind my back.”
“I did what I had to do.”
Claud was still angry, but his suspicions seemed to be placated, at least for the moment. “So when will you be in Portland?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Soon. I don’t have a precise date, but sometime before the first of the year.” Ashley wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible, before Trevor woke up. “I’ve got things to do right now, but I’ll talk to you when I’m back in town. I’m sure you’ll be interested to know how the books look.”
“I already do,” Claud muttered before hanging up.
When Ashley replaced the receiver, she let out a long sigh of relief and turned toward the stairs. She found herself face-to-face with Trevor. His expression was murderous.
“So someone at Stephens Timber tipped Claud off,” he charged.
Ashley stood her ground, refusing to back down to the anger in the set of his jaw. “Claud’s suspicious, if that’s what you mean.”
“What I mean, dear lady,” Trevor spat out, “is that no one in that damned timber company of yours can keep his mouth shut.” A deadly gleam of anger sparked in his eyes. “Or else you were just stringing me along all the time. This entire meeting was just a charade.”
“I didn’t come knocking on your door,” Ashley pointed out, her eyes widening in disbelief.
“But you didn’t exactly fight me off, did you?” he threw back at her, his angry glare burning through to her soul.
A small part of Ashley wanted to wither and die. Could this be the same man she loved with all of her heart? Did he really believe that she had sold him out? The fists rammed against his hips and the tense muscles straining beneath his shirt indicated that he was barely holding on to his temper, as if he really thought she had betrayed him.
“I wanted to be with you, Trevor.”
“Why?” he demanded, taking a step nearer to her and gripping her shoulders with his tense fingers. “Why? So that you could get close to me? Are you just like the rest of your family, Ashley? Would you do anything to protect your name?” he asked, his words slicing through her heart as easily as a razor.
“Of course not!”
“No?” Disbelief contorted his rugged features. His eyes narrowed in unspoken accusation. “You didn’t believe a word I said, did you? And you had no intention of holding up your end of the bargain.”
“You know better than that,” she insisted, her words trembling as they passed her lips. Dread slowly inched up her spine.
“What I know is that you used me, lady. You slept with me just so you could get close—see how I planned my campaign—so that you could protect your timber empire.”
Ashley was too numb to speak. The fingers pushing into her flesh were painful, but not nearly as agonizing as the words coming from Trevor’s lips.
“You missed your calling, lady,” he stated. “You should have been an actress. That performance you gave me last night was damned near convincing!”
Without thinking, she raised her hand as if to slap him, but the fingers tightening on her shoulders prevented the blow from landing.
“You bastard,” she hissed, tears beginning to run down her face.
“Like I said before—I call ’em as I see ’em.”
“Then you’re a blind man!” She pulled herself free of his grasp, lifting her head above the treachery of his insults. “You never could believe that all I ever wanted was you. You never could trust me and you never will.”
A muscle worked at the corner of his jaw. For a moment the anger on his face was replaced by raw and naked pain. But just as quickly as it had appeared, his misery was hidden and Trevor’s blue eyes became as cold as the midnight sun.
“Just remember that you and I have a bargain, lady. I expect you to keep your end.”
She took in a shuddering breath. “And if I don’t? What will you do, Trevor?”
“I swear to you that I’ll destroy Stephens Timber Corporation and drag your family’s name through the mud until it will never come clean.”
“So much for the image of the kind and just politician,” she threw back at him. “You’d better watch out, Senator, that gilded reputation you work so hard to keep in the public view might just become tarnished.”
“I don’t give a damn about my reputation, Ashley, and you know it.”
“What I know is that nothing matters to you—nothing other than your damned career. That’s all it’s ever been with you, Trevor.” His head snapped upward, as if she’d struck him. “I was foolish enough to think that you cared for me once,” she continued, unable to stop the words from tumbling from her lips. “But now I’m a little older and wiser.”
He looked as if he was about to protest. His broad shoulders sagged and he shook his head, as if he couldn’t stand to hear another word. “If only you knew,” he whispered.
“I’ll keep up my end of the bargain,” she stated wearily, “just to prove you wrong.”
He managed a bitter smile before he turned toward the door. She stood in the hallway, unable to move, her arms cradled protectively over her breasts, and watched in miserable silence as Trevor slowly pulled on his boots, buttoned his jacket and placed an unsteady hand on the door.
“Good-bye, Ashley,” he whispered, casting one last glance over his shoulder in her direction.
She couldn’t even murmur his name. Her th
roat was hot and swollen with the grief of losing him again. In an instant he was gone, leaving her cold and bereft, just as he had done nearly eight years ago....
She slumped to the floor totally alone and surveyed the cabin with new eyes. Was this the place, the very spot, where her love for Trevor had begun?
The tears ran down her face in earnest as she remembered the first time she had ever laid eyes upon the ruggedly handsome face of Trevor Daniels.
Chapter Seven
Eight years ago, at the age of twenty-four, Ashley had been aware of the vicious rivalry between Stephens Timber and Daniels Logging. The rumors surrounding her father and some of his business practices couldn’t be completely ignored, although Ashley chalked most of the gossip up to envy. Lazarus Stephens was a man of wealth and power. That was enough to start the eager fires of gossip running wild throughout the Oregon timber industry.
After she had graduated from a university in Paris, Ashley had taken a job with her father’s company. In the year since she had started with the firm, she had held several positions; it had been apparent from the start that Lazarus was grooming his only child for the presidency of Stephens Timber, if—and when—he decided to retire. Ashley had been only too willing to follow in her father’s footsteps. The only person who’d seemed to mind at all was her cousin Claud, who had been with Stephens Timber for several years and was jealous of his younger cousin.
Though she didn’t like to admit it, Ashley realized that she had been spoiled beyond reproach by her overly indulgent father. Lazarus had lavished Ashley with anything she wanted after her mother’s death. Expensive schooling abroad, flashy European sports cars, exotic vacations anywhere in the world; nothing had been too good for Lazarus’s only child.
The end result was that Ashley had grown up pampered and expected to be treated like a princess. In a word, she was spoiled. And at twenty-four, it had begun to bother her. Her conscience had begun to twinge, if only slightly.
On her first vacation since starting to work with the company, Ashley decided to cancel her planned Mediterranean cruise, and instead, she spent her free time at her father’s rustic cabin in the Cascade Mountains not far from Bend. For the first time in her life, Ashley began to recognize that the world didn’t revolve around her or Stephens Timber. The glamorous life she had heretofore led began to lose its luster and appeal.
Even the image of her father was beginning to dim. She told herself that she had overheard too many idle tongues wagging, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with all of Lazarus’s business dealings. Though she was loath to admit it, Ashley was beginning to wonder about the truth in the rumor surrounding Robert Daniels’s disappearance. It was one subject her father avoided like the plague. He would never discuss anything to do with Robert Daniels or what had come between Lazarus and the man who had once been his business partner. Not even with Ashley. At the mention of Robert Daniels’s name, Lazarus would visibly pale and then gruffly dismiss the subject. For the past year, ever since she had left the security of school abroad, Lazarus’s animosity toward Robert Daniels had begun to make Ashley uneasy. She needed time to think things out and reevaluate her pampered life. And so, at the first opportunity, Ashley took off for the mountains.
The solitude of the rustic retreat made her depend solely upon herself for the first time in her life. The cabin hadn’t been used since the summer before and smelled musty. As soon as she had changed into faded jeans, Ashley opened the windows, aired the rooms, washed the linen and scrubbed floors feverishly. No job was too difficult. She stacked wood in the garage and washed windows inside and out. At night her muscles ached, but she fell into a restless sleep with a feeling of vast accomplishment.
For the first week, she spent all of her time at the cabin either cleaning, experimenting in the rustic kitchen, reading or riding the horses that her father kept on the place. Zach Lambert usually took care of the two geldings, but while Ashley was staying at the cabin, she looked after the horses, much to Zach’s obvious disapproval.
It was the second weekend since she had come to the mountains when the trouble began. Zach’s daughter, Sara, who had been a childhood friend of Ashley’s, insisted that Ashley come to a party Sara was hostessing for some of her friends from college. Ashley wasn’t in the mood for a party and didn’t want to attend, but found the prospect of spending another afternoon by herself just as dull. Besides, Ashley rationalized, there wasn’t a polite way of declining. The Lambert place was just up the lane, and both Sara and her parents knew that Ashley was alone. There was no choice but to attend the party and hope for the best.
Ashley walked into the Lambert cabin knowing she had made a big mistake. The only person she recognized was Sara, and as hostess, Sara was dashing in and out, from one knot of jeans-clad guests to another. She smiled and waved to Ashley before hurrying into the kitchen to replenish a tray of hors d’oeuvres.
Ashley wandered through the modern cedar cabin and captured the attention of more than one pair of appreciative male eyes. In her backless apricot sundress, with her long black hair flowing loosely past her shoulders, she looked the part of a rich man’s daughter.
Her green eyes moved over the other guests with cool disinterest, the smile on her face well practiced but vague. She wondered why she had accepted the invitation to the party at all and hoped she could find a viable excuse to leave the festivities early and return to the solitude of her father’s cabin. She needed time alone to think about her life, her father and the business.
She accepted a glass of wine before edging toward the sliding glass door leading to the back of the cabin. Feeling the need to escape from the laughter and thick cigarette smoke, Ashley slipped out of the cabin and away from the crowd.
When she stepped onto the deck, a tall, broad-shouldered man approached her. He was older than she, but probably not yet thirty. His face was handsome, if somewhat angular, and his eyes were the deepest shade of blue she had ever seen.
He studied her intently, not bothering to hide his interest. Ashley experienced the disturbing feeling that she should recognize him. There was something familiar about him that made her uneasy.
The set of his mouth was slightly cynical for so young a man, and a few soft lines etched his forehead, giving him a wiser, more worldly appearance than could be expected for a man his age. His thick hair ruffled slightly in the wind and Ashley noticed that the chestnut color was streaked with gold—as if this man spent many hours in the sun.
Probably a cowboy, she thought to herself, glancing at his worn jeans and boots.
He stopped a few feet from her and leaned against the railing of the deck, supporting himself with his elbows as he stared brazenly at her.
“Is there something I can do for you?” she asked, tossing her wavy black hair behind her shoulders.
His thoughtful eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
“There’s an original line,” she retorted.
“It’s not a line.”
“Then, I doubt it.” Ashley was sure that she would remember such a proud, defiant face.
A glimmer of recognition flashed in his eyes. “You’re Ashley Stephens,” he stated, as if the name meant something to him.
“And you’re . . .” She lifted her dark brows expressively, begging his indulgence.
“Trevor Daniels.”
Ashley’s smile fell from her face. The name hit her like a ton of bricks. She was standing face-to-face with Robert Daniels’s son. Though she had never met him, she had seen pictures that had been taken years ago. All the whispered innuendos she had heard about her father flitted through her mind. She swallowed back the sickening feeling rising from her stomach.
“I think it’s about time we got to know each other,” Trevor stated, his calm belied by an angry muscle working overtime near the back of his jaw.
“Why?”
“Because we have so much in common, you and I.”
She looked disdainfully up at h
im. “I doubt that.”
“Sure we do. Let’s start with our fathers. Weren’t they in business together once?”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ashley whispered, taking a step away from this formidable man.
“I don’t think so.” A hand, large, powerful and surprisingly warm, reached out and took hold of her arm, spinning her back to face him. “I want to talk to you.”
“About what?”
His face drew into a vindictive scowl. “Let’s start with what you know about my father.”
Other guests had joined them on the deck and were showing more than casual interest in the confrontation between Trevor Daniels and the attractive, raven-haired woman. Ashley’s gaze flickered to the unfamiliar faces before returning to Robert Daniels’s angry son. “I don’t know anything about him,” she whispered.
“But your father does.”
Her eyes turned frigid. “I’m not interested in causing a scene, Mr. Daniels.”
“I’ll bet not.”
“Then maybe we could drop this discussion.”
“Not on your life.”
“I have no idea what my father does or doesn’t know about your family.”
“Tell me about it.”
Once again she glanced at the interested eyes trained upon her. “Not here!” She jerked her arm away from his grasp with as much pride as she could muster.
“Where then?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her speculatively. That intense, midnight-blue gaze started at her feet and inched up her body, appraising her. By the time his eyes had returned to hers, Ashley felt the stain of unwanted embarrassment burn her cheeks. “Let’s talk about this in private.”
“Anywhere you suggest,” he agreed with a sarcastic curve of his sensual lips.
She had to think quickly. Guests had crowded the small Lambert cabin. Ashley was sure that there was no privacy anywhere in the house. “My father has a cabin . . . not far from here. After the party . . .”
“Now!”
She was about to protest but the hardening of his jaw convinced her that he meant business. After hasty apologies given to a slightly confused Sara, Ashley left the Lambert cabin with Trevor Daniels, his boots crunching ominously on the gravel, striding behind her.