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Slowly he lifted the sweater over her head. Shivering slightly when the cool air touched her skin, she was only aware that she wanted Trevor as desperately as she ever had. She needed him now, tonight. She was destined to lie in the shelter of his arms, feel the strength of his body straining against hers. And there would be no regrets. Tonight she belonged to Trevor alone.
He watched her silently, his warm hands touching her cool skin. She swallowed against the arid feeling in the back of her mouth when his hand cupped her breast. The ache within her burned more savagely. When his head lowered and he touched the flimsy fabric of her bra with his lips, she thought she would die in the sweet agony ripping through her. Her breasts pushed against the thin barrier of lace and silk as his tongue wet the sheer fabric and the cool night air caressed her skin. He groaned as his mouth captured the hidden nipple straining against the taut lace.
Ashley clutched his head against her, exhilarating in the torment of his lovemaking. Tears ran down her cheeks as he unclasped her bra and her breasts were unbound. His fingers moved in slow rhythmic circles over one nipple while his tongue rimmed the other.
“Oh, God, Trevor,” she pleaded. “Make love to me, please make love to me.”
His hands found the waistband of her jeans, and his fingers dipped deliciously close to her skin. She was unaware of the precise moment when he removed the rest of her clothes as well as his own. She was only conscious of the sweet torment heating within her, a wild tempest of passion only he could calm.
When at last he moved over her, she was rewarded by the feel of his firm muscles pressed urgently over her body. His bare legs, soft with dark hair, entwined with hers. His hands touched her rib cage as if he were sculpting her, and his lips, hard with passion and warm with desire, molded over hers. “Love me, Trevor,” she cried, unashamed of her tears.
“I always have. . . .” He lifted his head and gazed into her soft green eyes. Her dark hair was spread over the white pillow. He knew now what he had always suspected: Ashley Stephens was the most incredibly beautiful and intelligent woman he had ever met.
Burying his head in the soft curve of her neck, he claimed her in a sensuously slow union of his flesh with hers. The warmth within her began slowly to uncoil as he found that part of her he had discovered sometime in a stormy past. He tasted the salty tears of happiness that ran down her cheeks; he felt the heated moment of her submission and stiffened when her fingernails dug into the muscles of his back.
Ashley whispered his name into the night when the final moment of surrender brought them together and bridged the black abyss of eight lost years.
As his body fell against hers, he held her as if he expected her to vanish. The corded muscles of his arms offered the gentle assurance that he did love her and always had. If only Ashley could believe him. If only she could think that Trevor would never leave.
Chapter Six
Sunlight was streaming through the windows when Ashley opened her eyes on Christmas morning. She snuggled deep beneath the colorful patchwork quilt and felt the warmth of Trevor’s body against her own. He made a low sound in the back of his throat and the arm draped possessively across her abdomen tightened before his even breathing resumed.
Ashley watched his dark profile against the stark white sheets. In slumber, some of the harshness had disappeared from his features; the tension that had been with him the last few days had faded with the night. The lines around his eyes had softened and the pinched corners of his mouth were relaxed. His hair fell over his eyebrows. Ashley lovingly brushed it out of his face while she pushed herself up on one elbow and stared down at the only man she had ever loved. Why, Trevor, she thought sadly, why can’t we live like this forever? Why do we continually do battle with each other?
The quilt covering Trevor had slipped downward, exposing his chest to the cold morning air. Ashley’s eyes followed the rippling lines of his muscular body to rest on the white gauze wrapped tightly over his torso. Gingerly she touched the bandage, frowning thoughtfully. Was it possible that Claud could have been responsible for Trevor’s accident? It seemed unlikely, and yet Ashley knew that Claud could be cruel and ruthless if he felt cornered or threatened. And Claud had mentioned to Ashley that he considered Trevor’s senatorial bid a direct threat to Stephens Timber. To what lengths would her bitter cousin go?
Her touch disturbed him. Trevor opened a sleepy blue eye and smiled when he saw that Ashley was already awake.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured. The hand that had been curved over the bend in her waist moved seductively upward until his thumb rubbed against her rib. “God, I could get used to this.” He stretched before sitting next to her and looking into the incredible allure of her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Ashley,” he whispered before bringing his face next to hers and pressing anxious lips to her mouth.
Slowly, he pushed her back against the mattress and let his weight fall carefully over her. Her breasts flattened with the welcome burden of him and slowly she slid her fingers up the solid muscles of his arms to rest on his shoulders.
When he raised his head, there was a trace of sadness in his gaze. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to wake up with you beside me,” he admitted. A wistful look stole over her refined features. Trevor traced the disbelieving arch of her brow.
Ashley felt as if her heart had swollen in her throat. “You only had to ask,” she whispered.
Something dangerous flickered in his gaze. “You were married,” he reminded her.
“That was a long time ago.”
Trevor lay over her, his supple body imprisoning hers against the bed. She didn’t move or attempt to escape from the gentle bonds of his muscles flexed possessively over hers. As she gazed into his knowing blue eyes, Ashley realized that she could never love another man. Her marriage to Richard had been a mistake from the start and it was over before it had ever begun.
“I should never have let you go,” Trevor whispered into the thick ebony silk of her hair. His body began to move rhythmically over hers, enticing the most delicious responses. Her heartbeat thudded irregularly in her chest. “I should have chased you down and forced you to marry me.”
“You wouldn’t have had to force me, Trevor. That was the one thing in the world I wanted.”
“And the only thing that Lazarus Stephens’s money couldn’t buy.”
She let out a ragged sigh and looked beyond him to the exposed rafters of the ceiling. Her breathing was becoming shallow and rapid. “Must we always argue?”
“I can think of better things to do . . .”
Her fingers tangled in his hair. “ So can I.”
Trevor lowered his head, his lips claiming hers in a kiss filled with passion and despair. His hands rubbed against her skin, softly caressing her body and making her blood warm as it ran through her veins.
The magic of his touch evoked the most primitive of responses within her. Liquid heat circulated and swirled upward through her body as she felt the firm muscles of his chest brush erotically across her breasts, teasing the dark nipples to expectant peaks aching with desire.
