"What makes you think I'm serious?" he retorted.
"Let me rephrase my remark. I'm not interested in having affairs. They only complicate matters, and someone always gets hurt." Her eyes glowed in the candlelight as she stared across the small table at him. "We're in a freakish situation this weekend; we've been thrown together under intimate circumstances that most newly acquainted people don't have to face."
"Are you referring to our impetuous marriage?"
"Our what?"
"Wouldn't you consider a marriage that took place as two people stepped into an elevator together rather impetuous?" His dancing eyes urged her to share his amusement at their predicament.
"I'd call it insanity. Whatever you label it, I'm not interested." She stood up from the table and took her wine glass into the shadows of the room. "So these elaborate scenes are being wasted, as far as I'm concerned."
He followed her and found her seated at the end of the sofa. He switched on a lamp as he sat at the other end. "Do you think I've set all this up as some sort of seduction scene?" His voice sounded almost angry.
"No, I don't think you've had to do anything but go along with Tysinger's plans. If we were married I could see what a nice weekend this would be. I'm sure Raul and Jeanine would have enjoyed it." Her tone stayed calm. Only she saw the slight tremor in her hand. When he made no comment she went on. "How do you propose to get us down from here?"
His eyes darted to hers in surprise. His mind had not been on leaving as much as on wondering what had caused such an attractive woman to cut out an entire side of her personality.
"I really haven't given it much thought," he admitted. "My mind's been on other things since I returned." The look he gave Ashley let her know where his mind had been.
"Do you think we can contact anyone tonight?"
"I have no doubt I can reach someone. The question is, can I give directions specific enough to enable someone to find this place? The roads up here don't seem to have many street signs." Ashley recalled the many roads they had passed and knew that without a map, a person unfamiliar with the area would only get lost.
Rafe leaned back in his chair. "I have a suggestion to make. Why don't we wait another night before doing anything? If we haven't heard from Tysinger by, say, noon tomorrow, I'll confront Mrs. Krueger about getting a message out." He glanced at her sitting there looking so aloof, making no comment. He shrugged. "At least then we'll be moving around in daylight hours, which would be much more sensible than feeling our way along at night. How do you feel about spending another night up here?"
Ashley had expected the suggestion. Waiting for daylight made a lot more sense. "I don't see that we have much choice."
"Then I'm glad to know we've managed to find some subject on which we agree."
She lifted her head from staring into her wineglass. "Do you find me that difficult to get along with?" She sounded almost shocked.
His lazy grin caused her stomach to do a sudden flip. "I refuse to answer on the grounds that whatever I say will no doubt start another argument, and I'm feeling too peaceful at the moment." He lounged there looking for all the world as though his only concern was how to spend the evening. As a matter of fact, that was her concern as well. Something told Ashley they might have opposing views on the subject.
She glanced at her watch. "I realize it's rather early, but I think I'll go on to bed."
"Suit yourself." He sounded bored. "I think I'll build a fire and enjoy the atmosphere for a while." He rolled his head against the sofa so that she was in his line of vision. "You're welcome to join me if you'd like."
She sat there wavering. To be honest, and she was forcing herself to at least be that, she wasn't ready for bed. But then, she wasn't ready to continue a romantic evening in front of a fire with Rafe, either. "Well, maybe I'll stay for a while longer."
She noted that he didn't stand up and cheer, but what had she expected? She'd made her message clear, and he no doubt felt that the matter was closed. Ashley was annoyed that her nerves seemed to be on edge, her skin was flushed, and her pulse was racing. Perhaps another glass of wine would help to relax her.
Chapter Five
Ashley was amazed to find how much the wine had relaxed her. She lay on her stomach, stretched full length on the sofa with her shoes off and an empty wine glass dangling from one hand. She had been listening to Rafe's anecdotes about his past.
"You mean you actually jumped a freighter at sixteen to prove to your father that you were a man?"
"Yep. I figured he was too old and stodgy to understand what life was all about, so after one of our many verbal battles I slammed out of the house, hitchhiked to San Francisco, lied about my age, and headed for Japan on a freighter." Rafe was stretched out on the hearth rug, propped up on an elbow, dividing his time between watching Ashley and watching the fire as it began to settle into a glow of hot ashes.
"Weren't you scared?"
"If I was, I wouldn't admit it to anyone, especially not to myself. Hell, I was convinced I knew all there was to know. I didn't need to finish school." He paused. "Come to think of it, I think that's what started that particular argument. My dad had found out I'd been skipping some of my more boring classes." He grinned at the memory.
"What did your mother do?"
"What could she do? She tried to get us both to calm down and be reasonable. Coming from my mother, that should have broken us both up right there. However, my sense of humor hadn't reached the point where I could laugh at myself."
"But now it has?" Ashley asked with a smile.
Rafe's eyes rested on her face as the dying firelight created multicolored patterns across its surface. "I think so, yes." He continued to study her, and the thought came to him that he'd rarely seen a lovelier woman. She seemed to be unaware of the beauty that radiated from her. He felt his body reacting to her presence and admitted to himself that he wanted to make love to her.
"You're staring."
"I know."
"Do I have soot on my face?" She laughed softly, her earlier feelings of unease forgotten in the camaraderie of the evening. Why hadn't she liked this man, she wondered in surprise? She found him delightful. He'd allowed her to see his vulnerability, perhaps because he was comfortable with who he was. Funny, she'd noticed that only this evening.
A big yawn overtook her. She looked at her watch and laughed. "It's after midnight, and I'd planned to go to bed at nine."
He watched her mouth as it turned up in a soft smile. "I'm glad you didn't."
Her smile widened. "Me too, but I really do need to get some sleep. You were right when you pointed out that I'm not a morning person. But I want to get up early in case we have a day of hiking ahead of us."
Rafe groaned at the thought and rolled over onto his back. His shirt crept up on his stomach so that dark hair showed as it swirled into a T-shape and disappeared into his jeans. The snug pants outlined his shape. Ashley's eyes jerked back to his waist, but that didn't help much. She had an almost irresistible impulse to place her lips along that bared portion of his anatomy and plant kisses across the brown expanse. She eyed her empty wine glass with disfavor.
"How long was it before you went back home?" she asked, attempting to distract her mind from its erotic wandering.
"I was gone for two years before I had the guts to face my dad and admit I'd been wrong. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life." He shook his head. "I'll never forget it."
"Was he surprised?"
"Shocked, actually. I've never been one who could admit to being wrong, you see. That was the day I took my first step toward maturity." He was silent for a moment, lost in his memories. "Somehow I always knew he was there with me every step of the way."
Ashley's eyes drifted shut, then popped open. She sat up and stretched. "I think I'll go on to bed." She waited for his comment, but he was silent. She looked down at him lying at her feet and poked a bare toe into his ribs. "What are you going to do?"
The look he gave her made a mockery of the question, but she was determined not to be the one to break eye contact. She was a novice at the badinage they'd enjoyed all evening, but she'd discovered she liked it and refused to back down.
"Oh, I'll probably go to sleep shortly. I think that sofa is long enough to hold me—unless you have a better suggestion." His eyes dared her to comment.
She looked at him, then at the sofa. "I'm sure you'll be quite comfortable. I'll even find you some extra blankets so you don't get too cold tonight." As she turned to leave the room, she heard his soft "Good night, Ms. Allison" and turned back. He hadn't changed position, but he was watching her with a grin. She made a formal curtsy.
"Good night, Mr. McCord," she replied, and disappeared down the hallway.
Moonlight glowed through the glass wall in the guest bedroom. Ashley didn't need a lamp as she removed her clothes and hung them in the closet. They would probably have to be worn again tomorrow. She drifted into the bathroom, smiling to herself as she remembered some of Rafe's tales. She felt too keyed up to sleep and had decided that a nice, hot bath was just what she needed to relax her.
She piled her hair on top of her head and haphazardly stuck pins she'd found in her purse into various curls. Oh, how she wished for some moisturizing cream. Her face felt like sandpaper. Next kidnapping, she'd insist on it.
While rummaging in the bathroom cabinet for a face cloth, Ashley found a large container of bath oil and ended up dumping most of it into the hot water filling the tub. At that rate she'd slide right into bed and promptly slide right off it again. Ashley—she stared at herself in the mirror—you never do anything in moderation. Her image solemnly stared back. You wait until you're twenty-eight years old before developing your very first crush. You idiot.
I wonder if I'd be as attracted to him if I'd just met him in the normal course of events? Who knows? But he's managed to break through more of my defenses than anyone before.
The warm water caressed Ashley's skin, the oil causing the water to feel like liquid silk. She was aware of her body, as though Rafe's hands touched her everywhere the water lapped.
Enough of that! Much more and not only will you not be getting any sleep tonight, you'll be begging him not to sleep on the couch—and that would never do. Thank God he was self-assured enough not to feel threatened just because she'd made it clear that she had no intention of playing house. She nodded firmly and several curls slipped down onto her face.
As she stepped out of the cooling water, she noticed her small stack of underwear. It had to be rinsed out, but that would leave her with nothing to sleep in. Shrugging her shoulders, she filled the sink, added some face soap to the water and washed and rinsed her underthings. As she draped her lingerie over one of the towel racks, she smiled at the thought of Rafe coming in to wash and dry his face and grabbing a handful of slip. He wanted to experience marriage, did he?
Ashley wrapped a towel around herself, turned off the light, and opened the bathroom door with caution. The room was still moonlit, although the moon had moved higher in the sky. She glanced over at the undisturbed bed. What had she expected?
Ashley searched through the dresser for a suitable garment to sleep in. She pulled out a soft T-shirt, glad to see that it fell modestly to her thighs. The rest of the pins tumbled out of her hair as she flicked her small hairbrush through it. She could hardly hold her eyes open as she pulled back the covers and crawled into bed. She was sound asleep before her head hit the pillow.
The room was in dark shadow when Rafe came silently into the bedroom. He moved over to the bed of blankets and checked Josh. There was still enough light to show him Ashley's face as she slept, and he moved to the side of the bed as though drawn by an invisible cord.
She slept on her side with one hand tucked under her cheek, her hair in disarray on the pillow. He could feel deep within him the painful desire that he'd fought all evening. He couldn't understand his reaction to her—she wasn't the type of woman he admired. She was too independent, too opinionated and, if he were honest with himself, too virginal for his taste.
His women had several things in common. They were beautiful, eager to please, and understood their place in his life. Ashley certainly met the first criterion, but after that, she totally missed the mark. So why do I have this irresistible desire to take her in my arms and coax from her the passion I've seen hints of?
He sat down on the side of the bed and with a light touch brushed the hair from her ear. An irresistible desire… Rafe leaned over and kissed her softly just below her ear. Ashley murmured something and turned her head, her mouth a hairbreadth from his. He settled his lips on hers with a delicate touch, no longer thinking about his actions.
Ashley's mouth moved against his. She lifted her arms languidly to his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. His tongue sought the entrance it wanted and Ashley accommodated, her mouth shaping itself to his, her arms tightening around his shoulders. Without loosening his hold, Rafe shifted on the bed until he lay beside her, his arm slipping under her as he began to stroke her body. Her response sent electrical impulses throughout his system. The pounding of his pulse shook his body. His hand explored her sweet curves, finally settling on her breast, chastely covered by the T-shirt. He knew he must stop—he'd never intended to take advantage of her, but her lips were sweet—so sweet. Just a moment more, then he would leave her.
The spicy scent of Rafe's aftershave lotion stole into Ashley's dream. She was back in the forest, following the long, tunneled trail, trying to find her way. She was lost and panic began to overwhelm her attempts to be rational. Where was Rafe? He was supposed to be up ahead. How would she get out from among the endless trees?
Then she saw him. She'd been frightened and felt abandoned, and he'd come to find her. Unhindered by shyness, she ran toward him, acknowledging her need for him. She threw herself into his arms and pressed her head against his chest, loving the closeness of his body, wanting to absorb him through her very pores. She never wanted to be alone again.
He lifted her face with gentle hands and fit his mouth to hers. His fingers danced lightly across her face, soft touches upon her closed eyelids, over her cheeks and down to her shoulders.
He needed her as well. He told her that by the way he held her, kissed her, and stroked her. Ashley wrapped her arms around him as she melted against him, opening her mouth to his invasion.
The cedar-touched air and his spicy scent intermingled. His hands moved with more urgent caresses, outlining the curve of her hips—pulling her closer to his male need. Ashley drifted with him into the soft, silent night of sensations and physical yearnings she'd never before experienced.
He turned her in a gentle movement, his feather touch exploring the shape of her breast.
Her breast!
Ashley realized that she was no longer dreaming. Rafe was in bed with her, his arms wrapped around her, his mouth moving with heart-stopping touches along her throat, down the V-neck of her shirt. And she wasn't stopping him! In fact, her hands were exploring the rugged strength of his shoulders, exulting in the feel of his body.
"No!" She shoved him away from her.
Rafe had forgotten how the kiss had started. He only remembered her response—the warm, passionate response that he had known was there. He'd found it. Her sudden withdrawal left him stunned.
"Get out of this bed!" she demanded in a whispered hiss.
Rafe sat up, trying to gain control of his runaway emotions.
"What's your excuse this time, Mr. McCord? Didn't I bring you enough blankets, or did you need your mommy's good-night kiss before you could sleep?" she demanded, her anger intensified by the knowledge of her own arousal. How dare he do this to her!
Her words stung and he stood up, pulling his shirt down to his waist. "My mother never gave me a kiss like that! That must have been some dream you were having, lady."
Remembering her dream, she was further incensed. "Get out of here, do you hear me?"
"
Oh, I hear you, all right. It's a wonder Josh hasn't."
She clamped her hand over her mouth but her eyes continued to scream at him. She sat there until he left the room, then fell back on her pillow.
Her body still quivered from his touch. She ached with the needs he had aroused in her. Damn him! What kind of man would take advantage of a sleeping woman, regardless of what she was dreaming? It was a long time before Ashley fell asleep again.
What kind of man would take advantage of a sleeping woman? Rafe paced the living room floor, disgusted with his actions, tied in knots with unsatisfied needs. My God, she might have had to add rape to her list of outrages for the weekend if she hadn't realized what was happening. Rafe knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for his loss of control. But more important to him at the moment was whether she would forgive him. He wouldn't have admitted it, but that question was more important to him than their need to leave the mountain retreat.
Ashley's eyes fluttered open and she saw daybreak. Mount Hood was a black silhouette, but the sky behind it changed from gray to pink as she lay there watching. Her eyes wandered to the recliner near the window, then blinked in surprise. Rafe sat there in profile, giving Josh his bottle.
The light filtering in was harsh on his face, showing heavy lines and deep circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't slept at all. I hope his conscience kept him awake!
She continued to watch him, the knot in her chest dissolving as she noticed the loving way he held Josh. His expression was tender as he studied the tiny face of the baby energetically working on his first meal of the day.
Ashley had never seen her father or brothers hold or feed a baby. They loved their children—she knew that—but they would no more offer to help look after them, or nurture them, than they would expect one of the women to help brand cattle. Yet Rafe did it so naturally, as though he enjoyed it.
He's going to be a very handy father to have around.
Now where had that thought come from? He probably would be a good father, of course, with all the practice he was getting, but it certainly had nothing to do with her. She drifted off to sleep and dreamed of little boys with black curls and light blue eyes calling to her.
Circumstantial Evidence Page 6