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“Wait a minute—you want my help in proving that Stephens Timber and my family were involved in something illegal?” She was incredulous.
His voice was low and steady. It sent a shiver as cold as the black night down her spine. “What I want from you, Ashley, is the truth.”
Ashley’s mouth was suddenly desert-dry. Her voice was barely a whisper. “And when I go through all the company records and I find nothing, what then?”
“All I want is the truth.”
She weighed the alternatives in her mind as she reached her decision. “Okay, Trevor, I’ll look through everything. But I want something in return.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from Lazarus Stephens’s daughter.”
“When I check all the records and clear my father’s name, I expect you to make a public statement.” His dark brows rose inquisitively. “A statement that ends once and for all the bitterness between our two families and a statement that absolves my father of all the charges you’ve attributed to him.”
Trevor considered her request. “How do I know that you’ll be honest with me?”
Her chin inched upward defiantly. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me,” she murmured. “I realize that might be difficult for you, but I don’t see that you have much of a choice.”
His eyes darkened. “I’ll need proof, Ashley. I’ll give you my public announcement, if you can prove to me that your family hasn’t been involved in the accident, the bribery or my father’s disappearance.”
Her confidence wavered. “I’ll let you know.”
Trevor reached for his coat and Ashley’s heart dropped. He had reappeared so suddenly in her life; she couldn’t let go of him—not yet. There were so many memories they had shared, so much time that had separated them. Desperately she clung to the thread of hope that he still cared for her. “You can’t leave,” she whispered, her heart in her throat. He paused, one arm thrust into the suede jacket.
“Why not?”
“The storm—it’s nearly a blizzard.”
His eyes darkened ominously. “What are you suggesting, Ms Jennings? That I spend the night, here, alone with you?”
Chapter Four
Eight years seemed to roll backward as she stared into Trevor’s smoldering blue eyes. His gaze touched the most feminine part of her soul and made her voice husky.
“You can’t leave in this storm,” Ashley repeated. “You’ll have to wait until it dies down.”
His eyes darted to the frosted windowpanes before returning to search her worried face. “That might not be until morning.” Trevor slowly advanced upon her, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on the concerned knit of her brow. His voice was dangerously low. “Do you really think it would be wise for me to stay?” he asked as he reached her. Slowly, his fingers traced the elegant curve of her jaw.
He noticed the hesitation in her sensual sea-green eyes. “I don’t think you have much of a choice.”
Trevor’s hands stopped their loving exploration and his gaze hardened. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ms. Jennings.” He shoved his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and flashed a smile as bitterly cold as the night. “All I need from you is a lift to the Lamberts’.”
Her brows quirked. “You’re staying at the Lambert place?”
“That’s right.”
She stepped away from him and eyed him suspiciously. “Just how long have you been planning this?” she asked, tilting her palm upward and making a sweeping gesture to include everything that had transpired within the walls of the intimate room.
“Since my car went out of control and rolled down a thirty-foot embankment.”
Her spine stiffened slightly. “You really believe that Claud was behind the accident, don’t you?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” Eyes as cold as glass pierced hers. His voice was devoid of emotion and Ashley realized with a welling sense of disappointment how little he cared for her.
She shook her head and sighed. “I can’t believe that anyone, not even Claud, would want you dead.”
“I don’t think he wanted to kill me, just shake me up a little. Scare me. And that, dear lady, he accomplished.”
&nbs
