Distrust

by Lisa Jackson

  The lump in Ashley’s throat expanded with his words. “Shhh, Trevor—not now.” Lovingly, her fingers touched his hair, smoothing the wavy chestnut strands away from his face. His words touched the deepest, most precarious part of her heart and she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of believing them. Not now. Not ever.

  She had felt the pain of his betrayal once before and had sworn never to live the life of a fool again. It would be too easy to believe him—to trust her heart—to let the pain recapture her in its bittersweet claws.

  After a few moments of reflective silence, Ashley attempted to lighten the mood in the cold cabin. “How about breakfast in bed?” she asked.

  Trevor smiled knowingly and ran a sensuous finger down the length of her body. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on food.”

  She laughed and shook her hair out of her eyes. “Well, I could. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse. Come on.” Slapping him playfully on his rump, she hopped out of the bed, grabbed her robe and slipped it on. “I’ll make breakfast while you get the fire going in the den.”

  “And then you’ll serve me in bed?”

  Ashley was halfway to the bathroom by the time his words hit her. When she turned to look over her shoulder and cast him an intentionally provocative glance, she found him leaning on one elbow, his blue eyes following her every move.

  “You are talking about breakfast, aren’t you, Senator?”

  “Among other things . . .”

  “Um-hmm. I think we’d better eat in the kitchen. It might be safer.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Look who’s talking. You’re the one with the important project, or have you forgotten?”

  “It’s Christmas!”

  Ashley smiled despite herself. “That it is. Merry Christmas, darling.” She winked at him seductively, turned on her heel and made a big show of going into the bathroom to change. She half expected him to follow her and was more than slightly disappointed when he didn’t.

  After she had showered and changed, she walked through the loft again and noted that he was still in bed, but far from sleeping.

  “Come here,” he commanded when she breezed past the four-poster. His delft-blue eyes were smoldering with passion.

  “Not on your life,” she teased, but when he reached out and took hold of her wrist, she was forced to spin around and face the determined set of his jaw. Her wet hair dangled in glistening ebony ringlets around her flushed face as he roughly pulled her down on the bed.

  “You’re no gentleman, Senator Daniels,” she laughed as she fell against him.

  “And you love it.” His fingers toyed with the buttons of her sweater. “Someone should teach you a lesson, you know.”

  “And you’re applying for the job?” Her eyebrows rose a skeptical fraction.

  “I’ve got it.” One of the pearllike fasteners near her neck was loosened, exposing just a hint of white skin at her shoulder. Her green eyes danced in mock dismay as she clutched at her throat. The love she had harbored for eight long years was unhidden in the even features of her face.

  There was something captivating about Trevor’s slightly off-center smile, something inviting and dangerous in his midnight-blue eyes. When he leaned over to kiss her shoulder, Ashley shuddered with anticipation.

  He buried his face in her neck and drank in the sweet scent of her clean, damp hair. It held the faint fragrance of wildflowers, just as he remembered it. They had been alone in the cabin, and the dewy drops of summer rain had clung to her hair.

  “I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you,” he admitted, touching her throat with his lips.

  A thousand emotions made Ashley shiver as he pressed himself against her. She felt the ache of desire begin to flood her veins when he lay atop her and pressed the length of his naked body over hers. Even through her slacks and sweater she could feel the heat of his passion pressed urgently against her skin.

  “Forget breakfast,” he suggested, running his tongue against her ear. “I have a better idea. . . .”

  Without regret, Ashley wound her arms around his neck and brought his head against hers, eager to let the happiness linger and feel the warmth of his lips dispel the chill in hers.

  * * *

  As she poured water for coffee, Ashley could hear Trevor grumbling about the things he had to put up with. She smiled to herself when she remembered her hasty escape from the bed. After making glorious love while the late morning sun infiltrated the room through the skylight, she had dozed quietly in the shelter of Trevor’s arms. Then, when she could tell that he wasn’t expecting her to leave, she had bolted from the bed, snatched up her clothes from where they had been carelessly tossed and raced down the stairs to the kitchen.

  He had sworn roundly, which had only caused her to laugh at his frustration. It felt so right, so natural being alone with him. It was almost as if what had separated them in the past was beginning to disappear.

  While Trevor attended to the fire in the den, Ashley started preparing what she could for a festive brunch. The cupboards were pretty bare, but she prided herself on the end result of broiled grapefruit, blueberry muffins, sausage and poached eggs.

  “Not too bad for a novice,” she decided as she dusted her hands on the apron she had tied over her clothes.

  Trevor must have heard her. “It’s Christmas, you know. I’m expecting baked ham, cinnamon rolls, eggs Benedict.. . .” He poked his head into the kitchen.

  “Keep it up, Senator, and you’ll be lucky if you get cornflakes.”

  He studied the floor for a minute before his eyes came back to rest on her. “It wouldn’t matter what we ate, you know.”

  She returned his grin. “I suppose not. But since I put out the effort, I expect you to do the meal justice.”

  They ate in the kitchen and Trevor, for all his protests earlier, ate with relish. A surprised glint surfaced in his blue eyes. “I didn’t think Lazarus Stephens’s daughter knew how to boil water, let alone cook.”

  “I’m learning,” she joked, before adding more seriously, “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Trevor. I’ve grown up in the last eight years.” He lifted his dark brows appreciatively, as if in mute agreement, and took a long swallow of his coffee.

  The intimate conversation made Ashley bold. “So why haven’t you ever married?” she asked before her courage escaped her.

  He set his cup down and stared out the window for what seemed an eternity. “I’d like to give you the old cliche about never finding the right woman,” he replied, rubbing his chin in the process and continuing to stare at the frosty panes. “But then, we both know it would be a lie.”

  Ashley stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. She shook her head sadly. “I just told you that I’ve grown up. I’m not as naive as I was, Trevor, nor as—”

  “Trusting?”

  “That, too, I suppose. I’d like to think that you and I were just star-crossed lovers and that our time hadn’t come yet. Now that we’ve found each other again, everything will be fine.” She ran one finger around the rim of her cup and stared at the murky coffee. Her voice had grown hoarse. “But that’s not the way it is. You’re not Prince Charming, and I’m certainly no Sleeping Beauty, waiting for a man to change my life.” Her sea-green eyes held his calmly. “Too much has happened between us. And,” she added pointedly, “it’s my guess that the reason you haven’t married is that you haven’t found the perfect mate.”

  “Is there such a thing?”

  “I doubt it.” She shook her head. “You want too much in a wife, Trevor. A strong woman, who will support you and your damned career. A woman who will do what you want without question, but still has a mind of her own. A woman who will give up everything to be at your side—if and when you want her. And a woman who will wait with the home fires burning until you decide to come home. That’s too much to expect from anyone.”

  “Including you.”

  She smiled sadly. “Especially
me.”

  “And what do you want in a husband?”

  Love, she thought to herself, but couldn’t force the word from her lips. Instead, her lips puckered into a secretive frown and she started picking up the dishes. “I don’t want a husband,” she replied.

  “You did once. Very badly, as I recall.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  He scowled darkly and his fingers drummed angrily on the table. “And you managed to get yourself one, didn’t you?”

  “It didn’t last.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged her shoulders to indicate that it really didn’t matter, but Trevor’s fingers gripped her forearm and restricted her movements. “Richard and I weren’t suited—”

  “That’s a lie! The man was hand-picked by your father.”

  “Maybe that was the problem.” She looked pointedly at her wrist and the tanned fingers restraining it.

  With obvious reluctance Trevor let go of her arm. “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” he muttered, pushing back his chair before fiercely striding out of the room. Ashley heard his footsteps echo in the hall before the front door of the cabin opened, only to slam shut with a resounding thud that rattled the timbers of the rustic mountain retreat.

  Knowing that it would be best to let him cool off, Ashley finished clearing the table and set the dishes in the sink to soak before grabbing her jacket from the hall tree, slipping on her boots and going outside.

  Trevor’s footprints left deep impressions in the snow. She followed the powdery prints and forced her hands deep into her pockets. She loved Trevor with a passion that was achingly evident every time she was near him, and yet, try as she would, she could find no way of resolving those problems that held them apart.

  When she found Trevor he was standing near the edge of a sharp ravine, his back to her. He was staring past the snow-covered abyss to the majestic peaks beyond. The sky was a brilliant blue and the snow-laden mountains stood proudly in the distance, their treeless upper slopes reflecting the icy radiance of the winter sun’s rays.

  Trevor hadn’t heard her approach and when Ashley put a reproachful hand against his sleeve, he stiffened. “I didn’t mean to pick a fight, you know,” she whispered, her breath misting in the cold mountain air.

  His smile was cynical, and a muscle worked beneath his clean-shaven jaw. “Seems like you and I can’t avoid arguing.”

  “It’s hard to clear the air.”

  “Especially when so many lies cloud it.” He thrust his fists deep into his pockets and leaned against the denuded white trunk of a birch tree. Thoughtfully he pursed his lips and his dark brows drew together in careful consideration over intense blue eyes.

  “I never have lied to you,” she replied.

  He looked as if he didn’t believe her. “But your family. First Lazarus, now Claud—”

  “My family would never have come between us,” she replied, “if you weren’t so hell-bent to ruin Stephens Timber Corporation.”

  A sound of disgust formed in his throat. His eyes had turned as frosty as the winter day. “You can’t convince me that Claud isn’t out to get me.”

  “I know. I’ve tried.”

  “He’s out to ruin me politically, Ashley.”

  “I think you’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “The right ones. Claud is scared spitless that if I win I’ll be able to lobby for wilderness protection and somehow cut off his supply of timber. Your father was opposed to any new wilderness protection acts. He didn’t give a damn about the environment, and it seems as if Claud was tutored well.”

  “But Claud doesn’t own the company.”

  “No, he just runs it. And he won’t rest until he’s ruined me politically.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Ashley retorted. She brushed the snow from a boulder and sat on it, holding her knees with her arms and huddling for warmth. Try as she might, she couldn’t believe that Claud would be so murderous. It was true that Trevor’s campaign included a firm stand on wilderness protection, which, in the past, Stephens Timber had vehemently opposed. The issue was a delicate one, pitting the economy against the environment. In lean times, when unemployment was high, jobs and the timber industry won over the environment. But right now, unemployment was down and public sentiment seemed to support Trevor’s position.

  “Senator Higgins was an efficient lobbyist for the timber industry,” Trevor said. His broad shoulders slumped as if he were bone-tired.

  “And you won’t be?”

  “Right. Higgins was in your father’s pocket and I suspect that Claud is hoping that another candidate will fill Higgins’s shoes.” Trevor’s voice was without inflection, but his face was a study in grim resolve. “He can look somewhere else because it sure as hell won’t be me.”

  Ashley smiled bitterly. “I don’t see where you get off acting so sanctimonious. Your family is still a very viable force in the timber industry.”

  “But my brother keeps his nose clean.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ashley demanded.

  “Just that Jeremy has managed to follow pretty closely in my father’s footsteps. Daniels Logging Company has always worked within the law.”

  “And my father didn’t? Is that what you’re implying?”

  “I’m just stating the facts,” he replied coldly. “Jeremy has seen to it that Daniels Logging has been ahead of its time. We’ve never clear-cut, always participated in reforestation, even before it was fashionable, and always left a buffer zone near streams, to protect the rivers.” Trevor’s square jaw hardened. “And to my knowledge, the use of pesticides by Daniels Logging has been kept to a minimum, in order to protect the public.”

  Ashley’s elegant brows raised scathingly. “You’ve implied some pretty heavy charges, Senator.”

  “I’ve always called ’em as I see ’em.”

  “Or so your campaign manager would like the public to think.”

  Trevor scowled angrily, but didn’t offer a rebuttal. He noticed the bluish tint to Ashley’s lips and reluctantly he stood. After brushing the wet snow from his jeans, he said, “I think we’d better go back inside before you freeze to death.”

  ‘“Are you worried about me—or the scandal my demise would cause?”

  Trevor’s admonishing stare was stern. “I wish for once, just once, you’d give me a break.”

  “That works two ways, you know.”

  They walked back to the cabin in silence, each wrapped in secret thoughts of the past that linked them, bound them together, and always kept them at sword’s length from each other.

  In some respects, Trevor was right, Ashley decided. Daniels Logging had always had an untarnished reputation for working with the government, its employees and the environmentalists, instead of opposing them. While Stephens Timber was forever being gossiped about for being ruthless and unsympathetic to both employees and the public, Daniels Logging was considered a cornerstone of Oregon industry.

  Ashley gritted her teeth in determination. All that was about to change. Then both Trevor Daniels and Claud Stephens would understand what it meant to deal with her. She intended to make Stephens Timber a model company, come hell or high water.

  Ashley’s thoughts were grim, but she had trouble believing that Claud would actually try to force Trevor out of the campaign, either by the phony bribery charges or this last, unbelievable mishap with Trevor’s car. Claud was too much of a coward to do anything so bold. It wasn’t his style to take unnecessary risks. And none of the records indicated foul play, at least she hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary.

  Ashley breathed a silent prayer begging that her instincts about her cousin were right.

  * * *

  Once back in the cabin, she managed to steer the conversation in any direction but on Trevor’s career or the past. Trevor seemed to be taking pains to avoid another argument as well. The afternoon faded slowly into nightfall.

  It wasn’t a traditional Christmas by
any standards. No candles, roast goose, lighted tree or carolers gave the holy day the special traditions Ashley had observed in the past. However, being alone in the mountains, wrapped in the strong arms of the one man who had ever meant anything to her, made this Christmas more special and intimate than any she could remember celebrating. What better way to observe the holiday than to share it with the man she loved with all her heart?

  That night, lying in the security of Trevor’s embrace, listening to the regular beating of his heart as he slept, Ashley cried soft tears of quiet happiness and whispered a silent prayer of gratitude for the special moments she had shared with him.

  The cabin was illuminated only by the glowing, bloodred embers of the fire and the pale moonglow reflecting on the soft blanket of snow outdoors. The paned windows were frosted from the cold and the only sound breaking the stillness of the night was the occasional hiss of the fire as it encountered pitch.

  Ashley closed her eyes and tried not to think that this night might be the last she would ever spend with him.

  * * *

  The sharp ring of the telephone brought Ashley out of a deep and trouble-free sleep. Trevor groaned, shifted on the bed and then continued to snore peacefully without even opening an eye. The last few weeks had exhausted him.

  Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Ashley slipped from beneath the covers, grabbed her robe and hurried down the stairs to answer the phone in the kitchen. As she picked up the receiver, she pushed the tangled strands of her hair out of her eyes.

  “Hello?”

  “Ashley!”

  With a sinking sensation, Ashley recognized the smug male voice of her cousin. “Good morning, Claud,” she replied quietly, careful not to awaken Trevor. After sneaking a careful glance up the stairs, she walked to the far side of the small room, stretching the telephone cord its full length.

  “What’s going on?” Claud demanded after a few strangling moments of silence.

  “What’s going on?” she repeated casually, though her heart had seemed to miss a beat. She knew in an instant that Claud was on to her plan to help Trevor. “What do you mean?”