Distrust

by Lisa Jackson

  Everett’s warning echoed dully in her mind—Leave the poor bastard alone. What did that mean? It was more than a threat; the campaign manager’s words sounded like a plea, as if Everett was attempting to protect Trevor. The thought sent cold desperation racing through Ashley’s bloodstream. Why did Trevor need protecting? He had always been a strong, proud man, capable of taking care of himself and finding a way of getting what he wanted in life. He had always stood alone, fighting whatever battles he had to without anyone’s help.

  Unable to dispel the overwhelming sense of dread settling upon her, she rang the doorbell and waited impatiently. The melodic chimes sounded through the solid wood door, but there was no evidence of life from within the huge house. Fear for the man she loved took a stranglehold on her throat.

  The scent of burning wood drifted in the air, indicating that a fire was burning in one of the massive fireplaces within the manor.

  She stood alone on the porch and the only sound that interrupted the stillness of the night was her own irregular breathing. Nervously, she stretched upward on the toes of her shoes and peered into the closest window. The room into which she was looking was dark, but there were soft lights glowing in the far doorway, as if illumination from another room was filtering down the corridor. Apparently whoever it was within the manor preferred his privacy.

  After a few quiet minutes of indecision, Ashley tossed her hair over her shoulders and rapped sharply on the dark wood door. She had come to see Trevor and she was bound and determined to find him, even if it took her all night. Whoever was in the house would just damned well have to get off his duff and answer the door. After eight years, she was sick and tired of waiting.

  Her heart was beating wildly when she heard footsteps approaching the door.

  It opened with a moan and she found herself staring into the anxious blue eyes of the man she loved with all her heart. He looked older than she remembered; his hair was unkempt, his eyes dull. He looks as if he’s been to hell and back, she thought to herself. He was a far cry from the strong, unbeaten man with the flash of determination in his eyes that she remembered so well. Her heart twisted in silent agony for him and the pain he bore.

  “Ashley?” Trevor asked, leaning between the door and the frame, as if he were too tired to stand unaided. The scent of Scotch lingered in the air.

  His voice was surprisingly indecisive and the thrusting determination of his jaw was undermined by the painful questions clouding his eyes. A stubble of beard darkened his chin and his skin was stretched tightly over gaunt facial features. His clothes consisted of worn jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt, which was faded and rumpled, with the sleeves rolled over his elbows as if he hadn’t wasted the time or the effort to change in several days. When he looked into her eyes, the rigid lines near his mouth softened slightly and the tension in his shoulder muscles slackened.

  “Ashley . . . dear God, woman, is it really you?”

  She hesitated. Nothing could have prepared her for the tired and broken man she was facing. A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth, but even that seemed an effort. Tears of misunderstanding filled her eyes.

  “Oh, Trevor, what’s happened to you ?” she whispered, her voice catching in the dark night.

  “Nothing that matters. At least not now.” He closed his eyes as if to push aside the demons playing with his mind. “I’ve missed you, lady,” he admitted roughly, and he opened the door a little wider.

  It was all the encouragement she needed. With a strangling sob, she ran to him and wrapped her arms securely around his neck to hold on to him in quiet desperation. All the old barriers that had held them apart for so many years semed to crumble and fall. His arms held her securely, crushing her body with the power of his, as if he, too, were afraid that she was only a figment of his imagination and would vanish into the night as quickly as she had appeared.

  Silvery tears streamed down her face and she drank in the familiar scent of him, all male and warm. There was the lingering trace of Scotch on his breath. When he pressed his lips to hers, she felt as if she would melt into the polished oak floors of the grand entry hall.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he rasped, and for the first time Ashley noticed the tears gathering in his eyes. Never before had she seen Trevor cry and there was something endearing in the knowledge that this proud man cared enough to let her see his weakness.

  “Shhh . . . I’m here now. That’s all that matters,” she murmured, smoothing the disheveled chestnut hair from his eyes and kissing his tear-stained cheeks.

  “I won’t let you leave me again,” he vowed, recovering his composure and kicking the door closed with his foot.

  “If I remember correctly, Senator, it was you who left me.”

  “Not eight years ago, lady. That’s when I made my mistake with you. I should never have let you walk out of my life.”

  “And I shouldn’t have walked—”

  “Amen.”

  With a quick movement, he bent and slipped one arm under the crook of her knees, lifting her lithely off her feet.

  “What are you doing?” she murmured into his neck as he started to carry her to the back of the house.

  “What I should have done a long time ago,” he returned. “I’m going to make love to you until you promise that you’ll stay with me forever.” His words pierced her heart like silver needles, reminding her of a past that held them together only to push them apart. “I’ve made more than my share of mistakes in my life, but not tonight. I’ve waited too long for you to show up on my doorstep.”

  “And what if I hadn’t? How long would you have waited?” The warmth of his body seemed to flow into hers, and his rock-hard muscles rippled slightly when he walked. Despite the unspoken questions lingering between them, Ashley felt her body responding to Trevor’s captive embrace and the sparks of possession in his eyes.

  “I don’t know,” he replied darkly.

  “You could have called.”

  Shame tightened his jaw. “I was afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  He let out a disgusted sigh. “For you. Whatever it was that I was up against, I didn’t want you involved.”

  “But you asked me to check the company records—”

  He placed a silencing finger to her lips. “After our argument, I realized that it had been a mistake to ask you for your help in the first place and then, later . . .”

  “Wait a minute—slow down. What the devil are you talking about?” she asked, her arms still encircling his neck. When she pulled her head away from his shoulder in order to study the anxious lines of his face, she could read nothing but worry in his gaze.

  Trevor noticed the confusion in the mysterious sea-green depths of her eyes as he carried her into the den. He shook his head as if to knock out the cobwebs that had gathered in his mind from too many nights without sleep and too many bottles of alcohol to deaden his nerves.

  “Not now,” he whispered as he placed her on the plushly carpeted floor before the fire. Passion darkened his eyes as he brushed a strand of dark hair from her face and gazed down upon her. His finger traced the length of her jaw, pausing slightly at the pout on her lips. “Tonight you and I are going to forget about all the craziness between our families, all the lies, and all the betrayals. Tonight, we’re going to concentrate on each other, just as if the slate were clean.”

  Her fingers grabbed hold of his wrist, effectively halting the assault on her senses from the sensual touch of his hands. Her words came out in a ragged whisper. “You act as if you expected me to show up here tonight.”

  His shoulders drooped from an invisible burden and he looked away from the elegant contours of her face to stare into the fire. Drawing his bent legs to his chest, he placed his folded arms over his knees and stared at the scarlet embers of the dying fire. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he admitted reluctantly. “I thought you were lost to me forever.”

  “But why?”

  “I almost lo
st you once before when you married another man.”

  Ashley felt the burn of her betrayal in her chest. “You know that was a mistake, I told you so. Even Richard would admit it.” She touched Trevor gently on his arm, forcing him to turn and face her again. “Don’t you know I’ve never loved another man, not with the passion I’ve felt with you? I only married Richard because I didn’t think you wanted me, and I’ll never make that mistake again. It wasn’t fair to anyone. Not you, or Richard, or myself. In the past eight years I’ve learned a lot; one thing is that if you find something you want, I mean really want, you’ve got to hold on and never let go. I learned that from you, Trevor. That and so much more.”

  Trevor buried his face in his hands. “I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt you,” he said.

  “I do.” She didn’t question him for a moment. She had come to him and found him raw and naked and vulnerable. For the first time in her life she knew that he cared, that he had always cared as much as he could allow himself.

  “And the last thing I would want would be for you to be subjected to any kind of danger.”

  “Of course—Trevor, why are you taiking like this?”

  He turned to study her worried expression. Her fingers on his forearm moved slowly, soothingly against his skin. He swallowed against the uncomfortable lump which had formed in his throat and made speech impossible. “I love you,” he admitted, his eyes boring into hers.

  The movement against his arm stopped abruptly and a sad smile touched the corners of Ashley’s mouth. How many years had she waited to hear just those words?

  Trevor took her small fingers in his and touched each one to his lips. The moist warmth of his tongue as it slid seductively against her skin forced a tremor of longing to shake her body.

  Blue eyes held her fast as his hands pushed her coat off her shoulder before straying to the top button of her blouse.

  “I’m not going to let you go,” he promised as the first pearl fastener slid through sea-blue silk. “I’m going to keep you here, protect you, and you’ll never be able to get away from me again.” Another button was soon freed of its bond by the warm insistence of his finger.

  Ashley’s breathing was rapid, coming in short little gasps, and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her breasts rose and fell as his hand slid lower, to the third button. “I’ve never wanted to get away from you, Trevor,” she rasped when her blouse parted and the firelight displayed the French lace of the camisole covering her breasts. His hands touched the silken fabric, and Ashley’s fingers wrapped around his wrist to forestall the attack on her senses. There were things she needed to know. Questions that had no answers.

  “Why didn’t you call or come to me?” She looked up at the strained angles of the face, shadowed now in the fire’s glow. There was a weariness about him and the smile he rained on her was bitter, filled with agonized defeat.

  “It’s better this way. I couldn’t take a chance of placing you in danger.”

  Regardless of the passion smoldering in his midnight-blue gaze, the set of his jaw was grim and rigid. His shirt hung open and as he leaned over her, she noticed that the muscles of his chest were tense and strained. There was no bandage to swath his abdomen, but a jagged red scar sliced across the tanned skin, reminding her of the reason he had sought her out in the lonely mountains.

  Lightly, her fingers traced the scar. Trevor sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, as if in pain.

  “What’s with all this talk about danger?”

  He paused a long moment and stared down at the vulnerable and beautiful woman lying on the carpet. Her mysterious eyes were heavy with seduction and the fine lace of her camisole couldn’t hide the twin points of her nipples straining against the flimsy cloth. “There’s nothing to worry about now,” he whispered, lowering his head to the inviting cleft between her breasts. “I’ll take care of you. . . .”

  She felt the heat of his tongue slide against the lacy fabric as a slumbering desire began to awaken within her. She was lost in her love for this man. Seeing some of his pain and worry only intensified her yearning to be a part of him and his life.

  His fingers twined in the ebony strands of her hair. He whispered words of love against the sensitive shell of her ear before his lips pressed against hers with the fire of too many nights of lonely restraint.

  Passion parted her lips and she eagerly accepted the touch of his tongue against hers. Her hands pushed his shirt off his shoulders, lingering over the smooth, hard muscles of his upper arms as the cotton garment slid silently to the floor.

  “Make love to me,” he murmured when her hands touched his belt and hesitated at the buckle. He rubbed against her, making her achingly aware of the urgency of his desire stretching the faded denim of his jeans.

  She moaned in response and slowly removed his pants, letting her fingers slide in a familiar caress down the length of his lean thighs and calves. The corded muscles tensed at her gentle touch, and when her fingers slid against the tender arch of his foot, he began to shake from the restraint he placed upon himself.

  Passion glazed his eyes. When at last he was freed of his clothing, he stretched out beside her and gently pushed a satiny strap off her shoulder. The result was that one of her breasts was bared to him. He studied the delicious, ripe mound, before cupping its swollen weight with his palm.

  “I love you,” he whispered again, lowering his head and taking the taut nipple into his mouth. His tongue circled the straining dark peak, moistening and teasing the ripe bud until Ashley moaned in bittersweet ecstasy.

  At last he placed his lips around her breast and began to suckle, drawing out the sweetness within her until she thought she would go mad with desire. She cradled his head in her hands, holding him closer, wishing that she could offer more to him than just her body.

  When Trevor finally lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, Ashley’s heart felt like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as it fluttered wildly against the prison of her ribs. The shadowed corners of the room seemed distant. All she could see were the bold features of Trevor’s face as he slowly lifted her camisole over her head.

  After discarding the unwanted garment, his fingers trailed slowly up her stockinged legs.

  “Trevor . . . please,” she murmured tremulously before feeling him pulling her skirt and underthings down her hips. Soon she was lying naked with him.

  Perspiration dampened his torso and gleamed like oil in the fire glow. He kissed her softly on the lips and rubbed his body against hers, all the while watching for the subtle changes in her expression.

  “I want you,” she whispered to the unspoken questions in his knowing eyes.

  “That’s not enough.”

  She swallowed the hot lump in her throat, understanding the words he yearned to hear. A coaxing hand rubbed against her breast in gentle circles, breaking her concentration and causing the liquid fire within her to pulse through her veins.

  She was incapable of thinking of anything but this man lying atop her, teasing her gently by rubbing his rigid length over the soft slopes of her body.

  “I love you, Trevor,” she said again, her heartbeat echoing in the dark room. “I always have.”

  A sheen of perspiration covered her body and trickled between her breasts. Slowly, Trevor’s head lowered to catch the salty droplet with his tongue. “And I love you, Ashley. . . .” His head lifted and his eyes held hers with all the passion of eight lost years. “I never stopped.”

  With his traitorous admission, he closed his eyes and gently forced her knees apart, surrendering at last to the fire in his loins and the seduction in Ashley’s sea-green eyes. He entered her slowly, but with a determined thrust that claimed her as his own. For too many years he had ached for another man’s woman, and in the rush of heat building within him, he attempted to expunge forever the mark of Richard Jennings from Ashley’s soul. She was his woman now and forever. If he’d learned anything in the past few weeks it was that nothing else in lif
e was worth a damn.

  Trevor’s torment was evident in the strain on his face and the unleashed power of his lovemaking. Never had their coupling been more bittersweet than now, and Ashley gave herself to the authority of his touch. The sweet fury within her began to rage, hotter and hotter, demanding release until, at last, she convulsed in a passion born of years of denial.

  “Trevor,” she cried as she felt his answering shudder, and his weight fell against her. Tears glistened in her eyes and when his breathing slowed, he rolled off her before tenderly cradling her head against his shoulder.

  “Nothing will ever come between us again,” he vowed, his voice rough with emotion and his breath ruffling her hair.

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “Because for the first time in weeks, I feel like the master of my own destiny.” Softly he kissed the tears from her eyes and fought against his own. “You and I, lady, we’re going to get through this and we’re going to get through it together.”

  “If only I could believe—”

  “Believe.”

  She wrapped her arms securely around the man she loved, to drown in the scents mingling in the room—the smell of burning wood, the gentle tang of sweat and the muskiness of stale Scotch.

  Tenderly he smoothed her hair away from her face. “I was afraid that you would never come here,” he stated, blue eyes regarding her solemnly.

  “But I called—”

  “And no one answered.”

  “I left word at the campaign headquarters. The receptionist said you’d call me back.”

  Trevor stiffened beside her. “When?”

  “Yesterday afternoon.”

  His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’ve avoided that place,” he admitted, “and I didn’t answer the phone when I was here.”

  “But why?” She touched his shoulder lightly. “What’s going on with you? The rumor’s out that you’re pulling out of the race.”