Nerve-racking threats to be sure, harassment to say the least, but not once had Deborah’s life actually been in jeopardy. Was Buck Stansell playing some sort of sick game or was he trying to throw them off guard, waiting to act at the last moment?
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been in the country club.” Carol Vaughn slipped her arm through Ashe’s. He looked away from the living room window where he’d been staring sightlessly outside while he waited for Deborah. He smiled at Miss Carol. “Eleven years.”
“The night Whitney announced her engagement to George.” Carol patted Ashe on his forearm. “She was such a selfish girl, but always so bubbly. Now she’s a very sad, selfish woman.”
“Are you trying to warn me about something, Miss Carol?”
“Do I need to warn you?”
“I haven’t been carrying a torch for Whitney all these years, if that’s what’s troubling you.”
“No, I didn’t think you had. You wouldn’t look at my daughter as if she were your favorite meal and you hadn’t eaten in a long time, if you were in love with another woman.”
Had he been that obvious? So apparent in his desire for Deborah that even her own mother had noticed? “Why, Miss Carol, what big eyes you have.”
“And sharp teeth, too. If for one minute I thought you’d hurt Deborah again, I’d have no qualms about chewing you up into little pieces.”
“And you could do it, too.” Taking her hand in his, he walked her across the room and seated her on the sofa. “I never meant to hurt Deborah. I made a mistake, but I tried to keep from making an even bigger mistake. I was honest with her, and I paid dearly for that honesty.”
“My husband adored Deborah. She was our only child. I didn’t agree with what he did to you, and I told him so at the time. But Wallace could not be reasoned with on any subject, and certainly not when he felt Deborah had been wronged.”
“I never made Deborah any promises eleven years ago, and I won’t make any to her now. None that I can’t keep.” Ashe heard Deborah’s and Allen’s voices coming from the upstairs landing. “I’m attracted to Deborah and she’s attracted to me. We’re both adults now. If things become complicated, we’ll deal with them.”
Carol nodded meekly. Ashe couldn’t understand the wary look in her blue eyes, that sad expression on her face. What was Miss Carol so afraid would happen?
Allen rushed down the stairs and into the living room. “Come see,” he said. “Deborah’s beautiful. She looks like one of those models on TV.”
Ashe helped Miss Carol to her feet and they followed Allen into the hallway. All three of them looked up to the top of the stairs where Deborah stood.
For one split second Ashe couldn’t breathe. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything as lovely as the woman who walked slowly down the stairs, the diamonds in her ears and around her throat dimmed by her radiance.
Allen glanced up at Ashe, then punched him in the side. “See, what’d I tell you?”
“You’re right, pal. She’s beautiful.”
Deborah descended the staircase, butterflies wild in her stomach. How many times had she dreamed of a real date with Ashe McLaughlin? Now, it was a reality. Now, eleven years too late.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs, Allen to his left. The sight of her son at his father’s side tugged at Deborah’s heart. What would Ashe say if she told him the truth about Allen? Would he be glad? Or would he be sorry?
Ashe looked at Deborah, seeing her as if for the first time, all sparkling and vibrant, beautiful beyond description. How could any man see her and not want her?
The royal blue satin draped across her shoulders in a shawl collar, narrowing to her tiny waist and flaring into a full, gathered skirt, ankle-length gown. Her satin shoes matched the dress to perfection, and when she stopped at the foot of the stairs, Ashe noticed that the deep rich color she wore turned her blue eyes to sapphires.
“You look lovely, my dear.” Carol Vaughn kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Please give my regrets to Whitney. I’m sure she’ll understand that I’m not quite up to these late-night social affairs.”
Deborah hugged her mother close. Her beautiful, brave mother, whose bout with cancer had taken its toll on all of them. “I dread going,” Deborah whispered so low that only Carol heard her words. “I have no idea what Whitney will do. She’s bound to make a play for Ashe.”
Pulling out of Deborah’s arms, Carol smiled. “You two run along now and have a wonderful time.” Carol glanced at Ashe who hadn’t taken his eyes off Deborah. “And don’t feel that you need to come home early.”
Allen rushed out of the hallway and into the library, returning quickly with a gold foil–wrapped gift. “Don’t forget George’s birthday present.” Allen shook the small package. “What is it anyway?”
“It’s a fourteen-karat gold money clip.” Deborah took the gift. “Whitney mentioned that George had misplaced his money clip.”
“Hocked it, no doubt.” Carol nudged Ashe in the center of his back. “I do believe you’ve taken Ashe’s breath away with your loveliness.”
“Yeah, he looks like somebody hit him in the head.” Allen laughed. “Hey, man, have you got it bad or what?”
Ashe jabbed Allen playfully in the ribs, lifted him up off the floor with one arm and rubbed his fist across the top of the boy’s head before placing him back on his feet. “You wouldn’t make fun of a guy for mooning over his girl, would you?”
“Naw, as long as you don’t kiss her in front of me.” Putting his hand on his hip, Allen stood up straight and gave Ashe a hard look. “If I catch you kissing her, then, as the man of the house, I’d have to ask you what your intentions are, wouldn’t I?”
“Yes, Allen, I suppose you would,” Ashe said. “So, I’ll tell you what, I’ll try to make sure I kiss Deborah when you’re not around.”
“Will you two stop this.” Deborah tried to hug Allen, but he wriggled away from her. “What’s the matter? Have you gotten too big to give me a hug and a kiss?”
“No, that’s not it.” Grinning, Allen swiped his hand in front of him in a negative gesture. “I’m just afraid your boyfriend will get jealous and sock me.”
Allen broke into peals of boyish laughter. Ashe chuckled. Carol covered her mouth to hide her giggle. Deborah shook her head in mock disgust.
“Let’s go now, Ashe, before I wind up socking Allen,” Deborah said.
Taking the long satin jacket from where Deborah carried it across her arm, Ashe wrapped it around her shoulders. He slipped his arm about her waist and escorted her out to her repaired and newly painted Cadillac waiting in the drive.
When he opened the door, he turned and lifted her hand to his lips. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He kissed her wrist. Chills shivered through her. She looked into his eyes. “Thank you.”
He helped her into the car, rounded the Caddy and got behind the wheel. “No matter what happens tonight, there are a few things I want you to keep in mind.”
“Such as?” Deborah smoothed the gathers in her skirt, her fingers gliding nervously over the heavy satin. She didn’t look at Ashe.
“Such as I didn’t come back to Sheffield to protect Whitney. I wouldn’t have, for any amount of money. And I’m not staying in town because of her or issuing threats to dangerous men because of her.”
“Did she hurt you so badly back then that you hate her now? You know they say there’s only a fine line between love and hate. Maybe you still care about her more than you’d like to admit. After all, she was your first love and—”
Ashe grabbed Deborah so quickly that she didn’t have time to think of resisting. His kiss came so hard and fast that it obliterated every thought from her mind, filling her with the heat of his anger, the determination of his desire. His mouth devoured hers, the kiss turning from bold strength to gentle power. Her hands crept up around his neck. He stroked her waist. The satin jacket fell from her shoulders leaving them bare. Ashe allowe
d his lips to retreat from hers, as he nibbled at her bottom lip and tasted her chin. He lowered his head to her shoulder, his mouth closing over her soft flesh.
Shutting her eyes and tossing back her head, Deborah moaned. “Ashe…”
“Don’t ever try to tell me how I feel.” Lifting his head, he stared into her blue eyes. “Whitney wasn’t my first anything. I’d had a dozen girls before her. You should remember all the girls I dated. And as far as my being in love with her, I wasn’t. I was infatuated with what she represented. She represented a dream. That night at the country club when she announced her engagement, I saw my dream come to an end.”
“Neither of us has ever been able to forget that night, have we? But for different reasons.”
He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “If you think I’ve ever forgotten what it was like making love to you, then you’re wrong.”
“I suppose you remember all of them, don’t you? Whitney, the dozen before her, and God only knows how many since.”
Ashe fell backward against the soft leather of the seat, shook his head and laughed. “You’re jealous! You are honest-to-goodness jealous.”
“I am not!” Deborah jerked the satin jacket up around her shoulders.
“Somewhere deep down inside, Deborah Vaughn, you’re the one who still cares. I still mean something to you, don’t I?”
Yes, she wanted to scream. Yes, you mean something to me. You are my first and only lover. You are the father of my child, the child I can never claim as my own. Oh, yes, Ashe McLaughlin, you most definitely still mean something to me.
“I think you’re taking the part of playing my lover far too seriously.” Deborah turned around in the seat, focusing her attention on the front porch lights. “We are pretending to care about each other. That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” Ashe said. “You asked me if I remember all the women I’ve had sex with. Well, yes, I do remember. Some more than others. But I didn’t have sex with you, Deborah.” There in the darkness his voice sounded deeper and darker and more sensuous than ever. “I made love to you. I took all that sweet, innocent passion you offered and I drowned myself in your love. I had never been in so much pain, and I had never needed a woman’s unselfish love the way I needed yours that night. Don’t you think I know that I did all the taking and you did all the giving.”
“Please, Ashe, I don’t want—”
“What? You don’t want to hear the truth? You don’t want to hear how much I wanted to keep on taking what you offered? How much guts it took for me to reject you? Hell, I knew I couldn’t give a girl like you what you should have. I knew the best thing I could do for you was to get out of your life and stay out.”
“And that’s exactly what you did.” Deborah cringed at the accusatory tone of her own voice. “You couldn’t even stay in the same town with me, could you? You couldn’t hang around long enough to find—”
Dear God, she’d been about to say find out if you’d gotten me pregnant!
“None of this matters now, does it?” Pulling the shoulder harness across her, she snapped the seat belt in place. “If we don’t leave for the country club right now, we’re going to be more than fashionably late.”
“Sooner or later we’ll have to finish this conversation,” Ashe said. “I think we both have quite a lot to get off our chests.”
“It’ll have to be later.”
“Fine.” He turned on the overhead lights. “You might want to check your makeup. I think most of your lipstick is on my mouth.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his face.
Deborah opened her evening bag, took out her lipstick and glanced in the mirror to see how much repair was needed. She worked quickly, trying not to notice that she looked like a woman who’d just been thoroughly kissed.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Ashe backed the Cadillac out of the drive and headed toward the country club.
“ASHE MCLAUGHLIN, you old dog. I never thought I’d see you back in Sheffield.”
Keeping his arm firmly around Deborah’s waist, Ashe jerked his head around, seeking the familiar voice. “Peanut Haygood?”
The skinny teenage boy who’d lived down the street from Ashe’s grandmother had turned into a heavyset, bearded man wearing a uniform and carrying a gun. By the looks of old Peanut, Ashe figured he was part of the private security for George Jamison’s big birthday bash.
“Peanut? Man, you’ve changed since the last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, well, a guy grows up and fills out,” Peanut said. “I heard you were in town.” He nodded politely to Deborah. “Nice to see you, Ms. Vaughn. Sorry to hear about all your problems. One of these days we’re going to get the goods on Buck Stansell and put him away for life.”
“Are you on the police force?” Deborah asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Over in Muscle Shoals.” Peanut slapped Ashe on the back. “Looks like you and me wound up in the same business, huh? You a Green Beret and me a policeman. Now you’re a private security agent and I moonlight as a guard for these fancy shindigs at the country club.”
“Ashe, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the ladies’ room and then check my wrap.” Forcing a smile, Deborah nodded toward the rest room.
“I’ll be waiting right outside.” Ashe followed her down the corridor, Peanut right behind him keeping up a steady stream of conversation.
From where he stood, Ashe could see the entrance to the ballroom. He spotted Whitney immediately. Her loud laughter echoed out into the hallway. She had her arm draped around a young man who seemed utterly fascinated by her.
“Who’d ever thought Deborah Vaughn would turn into such a looker, huh?” Peanut jabbed Ashe in the ribs. “You two were always friends, weren’t you? Rumor was her daddy had you run out of town.”
“Rumors aren’t always reliable,” Ashe said.
“Well, Ms. Vaughn sure got herself into a mess with ol’ Buck and his bunch of roughnecks. It’s too bad she come up on Lon Sparks shooting Looney. Neither one of those boys was worth a cuss.”
“Do you think Buck would kill to protect Sparks or seek revenge if he goes to the pen?”
“I’d say Buck would be more likely to have Lon Sparks killed to keep him from talking than he would to kill Ms. Vaughn. Sparks is a liability to them now. Me and some of the boys at work have got us a theory.” Peanut stretched his five feet nine inches and placed his hand atop the gun holster resting on his hip.
“What’s your theory?”
“We think Buck is putting on an act of trying to scare Ms. Vaughn, trying to make Lon Sparks think he’s protecting him. You get my drift?”
“Yeah, I get it. Buck always was one for playing games.” Ashe knew he should be comforted at the thought that it was possible Buck Stansell had no intention of killing Deborah, but Ashe’s gut instincts told him that he should take nothing for granted. No matter what Buck’s intentions were, the man was dangerous, a highly explosive bad boy, who was capable of anything.
Ashe caught a glimpse of Whitney coming his way. She swayed her narrow hips, encased in silver lamé, as she sauntered out of the ballroom.
“Now there’s a real piece of work,” Peanut said. “Sexy as hell and so gorgeous she gives a man ideas. But not worth the cost of the lead it’d take to shoot her.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about Whitney Jamison.” Ashe watched his old lover flirting outrageously with every man in her path as she made her way through the influx of late arrivals congested in the hallway.
“Hey, I’ve been moonlighting on this job for a good many years and I’ve seen quite a bit of Mrs. Jamison. She really works these social occasions, and I’ve rarely seen her leave with her husband, if you know what I mean.”
Ashe grinned. “Not the faithful type?”
“Can’t say I blame her, married to a loser like George Jamison. The man hasn’t held a job in years. They live off her inheritance, you know. Her shares in that real estate firm Ms. V
aughn runs. And Georgie Porgie likes to gamble. They’re always flying off to Vegas and Atlantic City and down to Biloxi.”
Whitney walked up to Ashe, slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Still draped around him, she smiled. “Come dance with me, darling. If I remember correctly, you were a marvelous dancer.”
“You were the marvelous dancer,” Ashe said. “I just followed your lead.”
Whitney’s throaty laughter rumbled from her chest. Her almost naked chest, Ashe noted. Her strapless silver lamé dress crisscrossed over her full breasts, just covering her tight nipples. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Whitney sighed. “Come on, let’s see if we’re still good together.” She rubbed herself intimately against Ashe.
Peanut cleared his throat. Ashe stared at him. The guard gave his head a few sharp jerks in the direction of the ladies’ room. Glancing over his shoulder, Ashe saw Deborah watching him.
Grasping Whitney’s arms, he pulled them from around his neck and stepped backward, putting some distance between them. Whitney’s gaze followed Ashe’s. She laughed again, an almost hysterical giggle.
“You’ll have to find yourself another partner,” Ashe said. “I’m afraid my dance card is filled.”
Whitney leaned over and whispered in Ashe’s ear, “If you think my little cousin is going to give you what you need, then you’d better think again. She doesn’t know the first thing about men, and most certainly nothing about a man like you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mrs. Jamison.” Ashe walked over to Deborah, slipped his arm around her rigid body and pulled her up against his side. “Would you like to dance, honey?” he asked Deborah.
Witness Page 11
