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“Claud reports to me. Look, Trevor, I don’t know what you’re getting at, and I really don’t see that I’m obligated to tell you anything. Just what the devil is going on?” Her mysterious green eyes pleaded with him.

Light from the antique lamp diffused into the far corners of the room, making the shadows dangerously intimate. Scarlet embers smoldered in the fire, just as they did on the first night she and Trevor had made love. Time might have hurried past them, but Ashley knew she would never love another man with the reckless, unbound passion she had felt for Trevor.

Trevor’s eyes darkened, as if his thoughts had taken the same precarious path as hers. Passion flickered in their midnight depths before he jerked his gaze away from her to study the fire. It was as if, in that one hesitant moment, he had inadvertently divulged too much of himself to her.

Ashley reached over and brushed the back of his hand with hers. With a jolt, his head snapped backward and his eyes drove into hers. Gone was any trace of desire. In its stead lurked cruel suspicion, lingering just below the surface of his gaze, silently accusing her of a crime she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

She withdrew her hand. Her fingers trembled as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. Dread crawled up her spine. “This has something to do with your accident, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not sure it was an accident.”

Ashley was stunned. Perhaps she hadn’t heard him correctly. “But the papers said—”

“I know what they said. I know what the police report said. But I’m not convinced.”

“Wait a minute.” She closed her eyes in order to clear her mind. There had been too many emotional shocks tonight and her tangled feelings were interfering with her logic. Stretching her fingers outward in a supplicating gesture, she begged for his patience. The rumors of foul play entered her mind and she shuddered. “Let’s start over. . . .”

His frown became a poignant smile. “A little late for that, wouldn’t you say?” The sarcasm in his words sliced into her heart.

She bit back the hot retort forming on her tongue. She folded her hands over one knee and forced herself to remain as calm as possible. “I think it’s about time you leveled with me. You owe me that much.”

“I owe you nothing.”

Her frayed nerves got the better of her and her thin patience snapped. “That’s where you’re wrong, Trevor,” she contradicted. “First, you broke into my place after trudging God only knows how long in the snow just to hide your truck. Next, you sat in the dark in order to scare the living daylights out of me, which, by the way, you did. Then, you end up making vague accusations and ridiculous insinuations that don’t mean a damned thing to me! I keep getting the impression that you’re waiting for me to say something or fall into some kind of trap, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is! What happened to you, Trevor? Just what the hell happened to you and what’s all this nonsense about your accident—”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t think it was an accident.”

She lifted her arm as if to ward off another verbal assault. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbled while placing her hand on the arm of the chair and pushing herself out of it. She stretched before bending over and examining the contents of the basket of wood sitting near the fireplace. She needed an excuse for time to gather her scattered thoughts.

Tossing a large piece of oak onto the coals, Ashley slid a secretive glance in Trevor’s direction. The crackle of flames shattered the silence as the fire began to consume the new log. Returning her gaze to her task, Ashley spread her palms open to the warmth of the flames and didn’t bother to turn her head or look at Trevor when she spoke. With practiced calm she asked, “I’ve known you for a long time, haven’t I?”

“Eight years,” he supplied, eyeing her backside as she kneeled before the ravenous flames. He couldn’t help but consider her supple curves. Her jeans were stretched tightly over her buttocks, leaving little room for his imagination. For a fleeting moment he wondered if her skin was still as soft as it once had been.

“Eight years, that’s right,” she agreed. “In those eight years I’ve called you a lot of things.” His dark brows raised inquisitively when she paused. “But I’ve never accused you of being a lunatic.” She dusted her hands on her jeans and smiled to herself as she stood. She was content to run her fingers over the rough wood of the oak mantel as she continued. “So you see, you’re going to have a difficult time convincing me that you drove over a thirty-foot embankment intentionally.”

“Of course not.”

The first cold feelings of doubt had already taken hold of her. What was it Claud had said? That Trevor was still convinced that Stephens Timber had something to do with his father’s disappearance?

He studied her quietly, watching the gentle curve of her neck as she laid her head against the mantel. Her ebony hair brushed against her white skin when she pushed it over her shoulder. Her round eyes were filled with concern and worry for him.

When Trevor rose from the chair too quickly, a dizzying sensation swept over him in a sickening wave. The pain in his side was once again beginning to throb. Grimacing against the dull ache, he made his way over to the fireplace and propped his shoulder against the warm stones. He pressed his hand against his abdomen until the ache subsided.

Holding her transfixed with his sober gaze, he spoke. When he did, the skin tightened over the rugged planes of his face and his eyes glinted with renewed determination. “Look, Ashley. I didn’t intend to lose control of the car, you know that as well as I do.”

Ashley’s heart was thudding with dread. In her anxiety, she ran her fingers through the thick strands of her blue-black hair. Letting her forehead drop to her palm, she gently massaged her temple. Her voice was ragged, barely a whisper. “Then what you’re suggesting is that someone tried to kill you.”

“Not just someone, Ashley.” His eyes drove into hers. “I think Claud hired someone to tamper with my car.” Trevor’s hand reached out and took hold of her wrist.

Ashley’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s preposterous!”

“I don’t think so,” he retorted. She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn’t release her arm. Dark blue eyes, the color of midnight, impaled her. “I think you’d better tell me everything you know about your cousin.”

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nbsp; “This is insane,” she managed to say, though her throat was constricting her breath. “I’m the first one to admit that Claud isn’t a saint, but you can’t go around accusing him of trying to kill you, for God’s sake.”

“Not until I have proof.”

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