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“There’s no reason to discuss this any further,” Ashley replied, her cheeks beginning to burn.
“Just remember that he’s out to get Stephens Timber,” Claud warned. “He still thinks Lazarus had something to do with his father’s disappearance.”
Ashley managed to smile sweetly despite the fact that her blood had turned cold. “And just remember who signs your paycheck.”
“You need me,” Claud reminded her.
“Of course I do, and I’d hate to lose your expertise at managing the company. But that’s all I expect from you, and I don’t need any lectures about my personal life.” Her dark brows arched over determined green eyes.
At that moment Claud understood that tangling with his beautiful cousin would be more difficult than he had imagined. It looked as if, after all, Ashley had inherited more than the timber fortune; she also had received some of her father’s resolve. Claud raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right. Just be careful, Ashley. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if Trevor Daniels suddenly started paying a lot of attention to you. You can’t trust him.”
“I think I can deal with Trevor,” Ashley responded with more confidence than she felt. When Claud finally left her alone, she slid into the car, placed her hands on the steering wheel and let the bitter tears of pain slide down her face.
* * *
Trevor opened a weary eye. As he lifted his head the weight of the hangover hit him like a ton of bricks. He was still seated in the leather recliner by the fireplace, and his muscles were cramped from the awkward position and the cold morning air. A half-full glass of Scotch, now stale, sat on the small table near his chair next to the newspaper article that had been the impetus for his uncharacteristic binge. The bold headlines were still visible, but the rest of the article was smeared from the liquor that had slopped over the rim of the glass and spilled onto the newsprint.
Running a tired hand over the stubble on his chin, Trevor stretched and cursed himself for his own lack of control. How many drinks had he consumed while locked in memories of the past—four, five? He couldn’t remember. The last time he had been so drunk was the night of Ashley’s betrayal....
Of their own accord, his vibrant blue eyes returned to the headline: TIMBER BARON DEAD AT 70. The paper was three days old.
“You bastard,” Trevor murmured before wadding the newspaper and tossing it into the smoldering remains of the fire. The paper ignited and was instantly consumed by hungry flames.
The first gray light of dawn was already shadowing the spacious den with the promise of another cold November morning. With an effort, Trevor pulled himself out of the chair and ran his fingers through his thick chestnut hair. His mouth tasted rancid and he wondered if it was from too much liquor, too little sleep or the painful memories of Ashley. The article about the death of Ashley’s father, Lazarus Stephens, had conjured up all the old pain again—the pain Trevor had promised to put behind him.
Maybe it was impossible. Perhaps Ashley’s life and his were entwined irrevocably by the sins of their fathers. Whatever the reason, Trevor had difficulty dismissing the image of her shining black hair and intriguing sea-green eyes.
Trevor rubbed his temple as he walked to the window and let his eyes wander outside the house, past the landscaped lawns and through the denuded trees of the estate his father had purchased. He leaned against the windowsill and considered the unlikely course of events that would never allow him to be free of her.
The feud between the two timber families had been long, ruthless and bloody. Rumor had it that sometime before the Korean War, the partners, who owned a small Oregon logging firm, had become embroiled in such a vicious argument that they had parted ways, each vowing to destroy the other. The stories varied slightly but all seemed to agree that the cause of the dispute was graft. Robert Daniels had supposedly caught Lazarus Stephens skimming off company profits for personal use.
The result of the breakup was that Stephens Timber Corporation and Daniels Logging Company became bitter enemies within the Oregon timber industry.
Trevor didn’t know how many of the rumors that had circulated scandalously over the past forty years were true and how many were fictitious. But he was certain of one thing: Lazarus Stephens had been involved in the disappearance of Trevor’s father, Robert Daniels.
Ten years before, when Robert had disappeared, Trevor had sworn that not only would he avenge his father, but he would personally see to it that the people responsible for the crime would be punished. But he had been deterred by his feelings for Ashley.
What had happened to Robert Daniels, after he was last seen leaving the dinner meeting with a lobbyist from Washington, D.C., remained a mystery. And now Lazarus Stephens, Ashley’s father, the one man who knew the answer, was dead.
Ashley. Just the thought of her innocent eyes and enigmatic smile touched a traitorous part of Trevor’s soul. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if he could physically deny the vivid image of her elegant face surrounded by glossy ebony curls.
Thinking of Ashley and her betrayal still made him clench his teeth together in frustration, and he silently cursed himself for caring. Hadn’t she shown her true colors? Hadn’t she tossed him out of her life and married another man?
Trevor had been blind to her faults and had let his feelings for her manipulate him. But now the tables had turned; if the senatorial race ended in his favor, he would personally see to it that all the suspicious dealings of Stephens Timber were investigated and halted.
His blue eyes narrowed as he stared past the leafless trees to the silvery waters of the Willamette River. A soft morning fog clung tenaciously to the shoreline.
What if Ashley inherited Lazarus’s share of Stephens Timber Corporation? What if all those rumors that her father disinherited her were only idle speculation? What if Ashley was now the woman in charge of the corporation Trevor had vowed to destroy?
His headache began to pound furiously just as the telephone rang. Trevor Daniels was jerked back to the present and the most pressing problem of the day: winning the election in the fall.
Chapter Two
During the next few weeks, Ashley’s impatience with her cousin mounted with the passing of each day, and her concern for Stephens Timber drew her attention away from Trevor and his candidacy in the May primary. Trevor’s face was continually in the news and Ashley was glad for the distraction of the timber company. It helped her keep the memories of the love she had shared with him pushed into a dark corner of her mind.
Between studying the reports that Claud had grudgingly begun to send her and instructing her classes, Ashley barely had a moment to herself. When she was able to find a few minutes to relax, her thoughts would invariably return to Trevor and the few blissful months they had shared together nearly eight years ago.
