“You were,” Ashley reminded her. “I was talking about you. I don’t like that despondent tone I heard in your voice. Since when do you give up?”
“Hold your questions, little sister. I’m older. I get to go first. Why did you fire your agent?”
Ashley gave up. Keeping the whole thing bottled up inside hadn’t accomplished anything. Nor had the flirtation with Dillon distracted her permanently from her own problems. Maybe telling Dani would help. At least she could be certain of a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.
Maybe it was time she had someone in her corner, someone who was blindly loyal or who, at the very least, would sugarcoat the truth so it was bearable.
She drew in a deep breath, then blurted, “I fired him because he said I was too fat for him to get me work.”
Dani’s mouth gaped with satisfying incredulity. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“I am not kidding,” Ashley assured her flatly.
“You, fat? You could eat nothing but cheesecake for a solid month and still not be fat.”
Ashley’s eyes swam with tears. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I am not just saying it,” Dani insisted, jumping up and beginning to pace. It was a sure sign of her level of agitation.
“It’s the truth,” she swore. “Of all the most ridiculous, addlepated notions I have ever heard, this one surely takes the cake. You shouldn’t have fired the jerk. You should have shot him.”
She said it so fiercely, Ashley was glad that her agent was safely tucked away in New York. She would have hated to see her sister jailed for killing the man. He wasn’t worth it.
“Look, it’s no big thing,” she swore, grasping for a positive spin to settle her sister down. “There are other agents. And I’ll probably lose these couple of extra pounds with a little effort. I’ll be back in the business in no time.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about the prospect,” Dani observed, cutting right to the heart of Ashley’s dilemma.
Ashley’s bravado wilted. “That’s just it. It doesn’t seem to matter so much anymore. But who am I, if I’m not Ashley Wilde, world-famous cover model?”
Dani’s expression turned thoughtful. “It’s a funny thing about expectations, isn’t it?” she said quietly. “We grow up with one set and the next thing you know they’re in tatters and we’re left floundering around for some new role for ourselves.”
There was no mistaking the fact that the comment had as much to do with her own life as it did with Ashley’s. Nor was there any mistaking the sadness in her brown eyes. It was so rare to see her older sister anything but cheerful and determined that Ashley was taken aback. Dani always presented such a serene front to the world that it was difficult to realize she was susceptible to bouts of depression, too.
Ashley rushed over to hug her tightly. “It’s going to work out for both of us,” she promised.
Dani hugged her back fiercely and managed a watery grin. “Some job of cheering you up, huh? The next thing I know, you’re wiping away my tears. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t worry about it. At least you didn’t let Daddy see you all teary-eyed. He’d call the preacher and force you to marry old Roger or Wayne or some other ancient geezer with whom he’d struck up a conversation in Arizona.”
Suddenly Dani’s expression brightened almost imperceptibly. “Speaking of marriage and men, whose shirt is that?” she asked, gesturing across the room.
Ashley swallowed hard and gazed quickly around the living room for telltale evidence of Dillon’s presence. “What shirt?” she inquired blithely, though the T-shirt was unmistakable.
“The faded, well-worn black one, tossed over the chair. I’ve certainly never seen you in black, unless it was some skimpy little designer dress in a magazine ad. Besides, this one looks much too large to be yours, and you tend to toss things out before they ever fade that badly.”
“I bought it a long time ago to use as a nightshirt,” Ashley suggested, frantically grasping at straws.
Dani rolled her gaze heavenward at the blatant fib. She strolled over and picked it up. After a quick sniff, she said, “You’re wearing men’s cologne now, too? You might be able to fool somebody else with that fiddle-faddle, but not me. Whose is it?”
“Let’s just say it belongs to a friend and leave it at that,” Ashley pleaded.
“Is this friend helping you to put things into perspective?”
Ashley thought of Dillon’s ability to turn her emotions upside down, but she nodded anyway. An analysis of her relationship with Dillon was the last thing she needed right now.
“He’s helping,” she assured her older sister.
Apparently satisfied with the response, Dani relented. “Then I’ll leave it alone for now. Bring him by for a visit when you decide you’ve had enough of this place, okay?”
Dani glanced around the very masculine cabin and shuddered visibly. “I’ve already been here longer than I vowed to be ever again.”
“Then run along before I suggest we go fishing,” Ashley teased. Her expression sobered. “Thanks for coming, though. Talking helped.”
“If you came to town, we could do even more of it.”
This time Ashley shuddered. “Sorry, big sister. It didn’t help that much.”
“Whatever decision you reach, you won’t leave town without saying goodbye, will you?”
“No, absolutely not.”
Dani hugged her, her expression fiercely protective. “I love you. So do Daddy and Sara. Maybe it’s time you learned to love yourself.”
Ashley sighed. “That is the big trick, isn’t it?”
She stood on the porch and watched her sister drive away, dreading the night that stretched out in front of her. Dillon’s presence had kept the loneliness and dark thoughts at bay. Without him there, all she had left was the promise of endless hours to think. The prospect depressed her.
She sank into a chair on the porch and tugged her robe more tightly around her to ward off the chill. Before she could get too distraught over the emptiness of the cabin, she heard the sound of another engine. This time it was unmistakably the roar of the Harley.
The joy that spread through her was so intense it stunned her. That alone should have been a danger signal, but she ignored it as she watched Dillon push the Harley off the driveway into a secluded nook in the woods, then stroll toward her with that lazy, seductive gait that had made many a teenage girl weak with longing.
He propped one foot on the bottom step of the porch and gazed at her. “Miss me?”
“Some,” she admitted with a deliberately casual shrug. “Where’d you go?”
“For a ride and then into town.”
She stared at him, surprised. “You went all the way into Riverton? Why?”
He held a large bag out to her. “See for yourself.”
Ashley took the bag, which was surprisingly light considering its size, and peered inside. It was filled with boxes of condoms of every size, texture and color imaginable.
“My, my,” she murmured appreciatively. “This looks promising.”
“I figured if you were going to have your way with me again and again, I’d better be prepared.”
Relief spilled through her. Ashley flew out of the chair and propelled herself straight into his arms with so much force it was a wonder they didn’t land in the dirt.
“That’s the best present anyone has ever given me,” she declared.
“Even better than that candy-red convertible your father gave you for your sixteenth birthday?” he asked doubtfully.
“Better than that.”
He grinned. “What was the first thing you did when you got that car?”
Puzzled, she tried to think back. “Turned it on and took it for a test drive,” she recalled.
“Care to do the same thing now?” he inquired lightly.
Ashley chuckled at the hopeful gleam in his eyes. “Think I can?”
“Sweetheart, you can turn me on
with the blink of an eye.”
“Then you’ll be absolutely amazed what I can do when I set my mind to it,” she promised.
“I can hardly wait.”
Chapter Ten
They had made love, slipped out of bed long enough to make themselves a feast of fruit and cheese and crackers, then made love again. Dillon was absolutely, totally spent.
Sprawled across the bed, he wondered if he’d ever be able to move another muscle. No other woman had ever left him feeling so completely and thoroughly satiated, yet still enthralled and wondering what was next. He had fought off his earlier dismay during the ride into Riverton and decided to take whatever happened between them as it came. The past few hours, however, had been beyond even his wildest expectations.
“I think this kind next,” Ashley said, holding up two brightly colored condoms. “What do you think? Hot pink or electric blue?”
“I think I made a mistake bringing all those choices home,” he said with deliberately feigned exhaustion. “We don’t have to sample all of them right away, you know.”
The grin that spread across Ashley’s face was part arrogance, part feminine delight. “Have I worn you out?” she inquired with exaggerated sympathy.
“Just temporarily, I assure you.”
“How temporarily?” she inquired as she did some very inventive checking. Her grin broadened. “Very temporarily, I guess.”
“Amazing,” Dillon said. “I surprise myself.”
“Not me. I always knew you were the sexiest male on the planet.”
“And you knew that when you were what?” he inquired dryly. “Sixteen? Seventeen? Was I terribly mistaken about you? Did you have much experience then?”
She winked. “There are some things a woman just knows at any age.”
“Well, Ms. Know-It-All, I’ll bet I could still teach you a thing or two,” Dillon commented.
Instantly fascinated, she asked, “Such as?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he told her. “I’m not giving away all my secrets in just one night. You’ll have to be patient, sweetheart.”
“How dull.”
“But ultimately rewarding,” he promised. “Now come up here, stretch out by me and put your head on my shoulder.”
When she’d done that and curled her body snugly into his, he sighed. “Perfect.”
She stiffened slightly. “There’s no such thing,” she told him in an oddly tight voice.
He found the reaction worrisome, but Dillon refused to be drawn into some heavy philosophical discussion about perfection in the middle of the night. “If there’s not,” he said, “then this is the closest thing to it.”
Ashley relaxed slightly and sighed, her breath feathering over his bare skin. “It is, isn’t it?”
They slept until dawn. Dillon woke first and gazed at the woman sleeping next to him. Her skin was flushed, her hair tangled, but he thought he’d never seen anything so exquisite in all his life. It was no wonder advertising executives courted her to tout their products. She could have sold Satan on turning over a new leaf.
Of course, he knew there was a lot more to Ashley than a pretty face and gorgeous body. With all those Wilde genes rampaging through her, she was bright and spirited and, yes, competitive.
Until he’d found her again, Dillon hadn’t realized how desperately he craved that precise combination of attributes in a woman. She represented the kind of challenge that few men dared take on. Dillon was confident enough to believe he was an even match for her. They would be an indomitable pair.
He worried, though, about what her reaction would be if he proposed a more serious relationship than this fleeting fling in a Wyoming cabin. Here, they were both far away from the lives they led. And Ashley still clearly believed that he was bad news, not the kind of man she could ever see herself marrying, no doubt. This was her rebellion, or at least that seemed to be what she was telling herself to justify their impulsive and unexpected relationship.
He wondered, in fact, if she was any more prepared to consider a lasting relationship now than she had been years ago. As he recalled, every boy in their high school had envisioned a future with her, and she’d left them all in the dust as she’d fled to her independent life in New York. She’d left behind a lot of broken hearts and shattered expectations.
He told himself it didn’t matter. All he wanted was a fling, wasn’t it? Now he’d had that. He should be ready to walk away. But he wasn’t. He wanted something more, but time was running out. He only had a few more days before he had to go back to Los Angeles and his real life. Should he ask her to come with him? Would she even consider it? He glanced over and saw that she was awake and watching him with hooded eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked at once.
He forced a smile. “Why would you think something was wrong?”
“Because you were frowning.”
He rolled over and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Maybe I was just frowning because I was lonely for you.”
“Then that is definitely a problem I can solve,” she said, circling her arms around his neck and proving it.
When they were like this, Dillon thought, nothing at all seemed to matter except the two of them. He wondered if he was only fooling himself, though, to think he could make it last away from this magical place.
* * *
It was noon before they finally made it out of bed. Ashley refused to let Dillon anywhere near the tub while she was in it. “That’s what got us in trouble in the first place.”
“And that would be my fault?” he teased.
“No, I take full responsibility,” she agreed. “Or at least partial responsibility. Now go away. If you want to do something useful, fix breakfast.”
“Don’t you mean lunch?”
“As long as it’s edible, I don’t care what you call it. And if there’s a vegetable involved, keep it to yourself.”
“Another rebellion?”
“Perhaps.”
Dillon regarded her quizzically but didn’t press for an explanation. It was evident from his expression that he recognized there was something behind all these rebellions, small and large. Apparently, though, he’d concluded he’d never figure out what until she was ready to explain. She was grateful for the reprieve.
After casting one last longing look her way, he left the bathroom reluctantly. Ashley heard him whistling as he headed for the kitchen.
She found him there when she’d dressed. He looked thoroughly at home banging pots and pans around, a towel tucked into his pants in lieu of an apron, his chest and feet bare. She envied him his confidence in his body. Despite the past few days, she was still at odds with her own.
“Something smells wonderful,” she said, sniffing appreciatively as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “What is it?”
“A secret recipe.”
“You won’t tell me?”
“Nope. I figure if you like it well enough, you’ll follow me anywhere for more.”
Ashley peered over his shoulder into the skillet to see what was in there. “Looks like an omelet to me.”
“But not just any omelet,” he protested with the pride of an artist in his voice. “Sit down.”
The distant tinkling of a bell startled them both.
“What on earth?” Ashley asked, just as Dillon muttered an oath under his breath.
“It’s my phone.”
“Ah, yes, the mysterious cellular phone. Where’d you hide it?”
“It’s in my gym bag.”
Since he didn’t seem to be moving, she asked, “Don’t you think you should answer it?”
“Only two people would dare to call me here. I don’t want to talk to either one of them.”
“Would one of them happen to be my father?”
“You’ve got it.”
“And the other?”
“No one you know,” he said tersely.
“A woman?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,”
she said flatly.
“But not a woman friend,” he pointed out hurriedly. “She works for me.”
“Oh, really,” she said, instantly fascinated. “You have an employee?”
“Several, as a matter of fact,” he said, avoiding her gaze. His entire attention seemed to be focused on that blasted omelet as the phone kept on ringing. It stopped for an instant, then picked up again.
“Whoever it is is awfully persistent,” she observed. “Maybe it’s an emergency.”
He faced her slowly. “Do you want to answer it so you can satisfy your curiosity?”
Something in his voice warned her that the right answer definitely wasn’t yes. “No,” she said dutifully.
His harsh expression vanished as he grinned. “Liar.”
“Okay, so I want to answer it,” she admitted. “Shoot me. I can’t stand a ringing phone.”
“Maybe you ought to analyze why that’s so,” he suggested.
“Probably because I was dependent on phone calls for my livelihood.”
“Was?”
Ashley nearly groaned at the slip of her tongue. Naturally Dillon had seized on it. Why couldn’t he be the sort of man who never paid attention to a word a woman said?
“We were talking about your phone call, not my career,” she reminded him. The ringing continued insistently. “Oh, to hell with it, I can’t stand it anymore. Unless you forbid it, I’m going to answer it.”
She stole a covert glance to gauge his reaction. He seemed totally disinterested in her decision. Apparently he had nothing to hide. He seemed more concerned about the outside world intruding on their time together.
“Dillon?” she pressed.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Of course, if it is your father, you will be stirring up one heck of a hornet’s nest. Be prepared for the inquisition.”
“I can handle my father,” she said confidently and ran down the hall to the guest room. She found the cell phone tucked into Dillon’s gym bag, just as he’d told her. She snatched it up eagerly.
“Hello.”
“Who the hell is this?” a blustery male voice demanded.
No doubt about who was on the other end of the line, she concluded with a sigh. She forced a cheerful note into her voice. “Hi, Daddy.”
The Bridal Path: Ashley Page 11