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There was something captivating about Trevor’s slightly off-center smile, something inviting and dangerous in his midnight-blue eyes. When he leaned over to kiss her shoulder, Ashley shuddered with anticipation.
He buried his face in her neck and drank in the sweet scent of her clean, damp hair. It held the faint fragrance of wildflowers, just as he remembered it. They had been alone in the cabin, and the dewy drops of summer rain had clung to her hair.
“I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you,” he admitted, touching her throat with his lips.
A thousand emotions made Ashley shiver as he pressed himself against her. She felt the ache of desire begin to flood her veins when he lay atop her and pressed the length of his naked body over hers. Even through her slacks and sweater she could feel the heat of his passion pressed urgently against her skin.
“Forget breakfast,” he suggested, running his tongue against her ear. “I have a better idea. . . .”
Without regret, Ashley wound her arms around his neck and brought his head against hers, eager to let the happiness linger and feel the warmth of his lips dispel the chill in hers.
* * *
As she poured water for coffee, Ashley could hear Trevor grumbling about the things he had to put up with. She smiled to herself when she remembered her hasty escape from the bed. After making glorious love while the late morning sun infiltrated the room through the skylight, she had dozed quietly in the shelter of Trevor’s arms. Then, when she could tell that he wasn’t expecting her to leave, she had bolted from the bed, snatched up her clothes from where they had been carelessly tossed and raced down the stairs to the kitchen.
He had sworn roundly, which had only caused her to laugh at his frustration. It felt so right, so natural being alone with him. It was almost as if what had separated them in the past was beginning to disappear.
While Trevor attended to the fire in the den, Ashley started preparing what she could for a festive brunch. The cupboards were pretty bare, but she prided herself on the end result of broiled grapefruit, blueberry muffins, sausage and poached eggs.
“Not too bad for a novice,” she decided as she dusted her hands on the apron she had tied over her clothes.
Trevor must have heard her. “It’s Christmas, you know. I’m expecting baked ham, cinnamon rolls, eggs Benedict.. . .” He poked his head into the kitchen.
“Keep it up, Senator, and you’ll be lucky if you get cornflakes.”
He studied the floor for a minute before his eyes came back to rest on her. “It wouldn’t matter what we ate, you know.”
She returned his grin. “I suppose not. But since I put out the effort, I expect you to do the meal justice.”
They ate in the kitchen and Trevor, for all his protests earlier, ate with relish. A surprised glint surfaced in his blue eyes. “I didn’t think Lazarus Stephens’s daughter knew how to boil water, let alone cook.”
“I’m learning,” she joked, before adding more seriously, “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Trevor. I’ve grown up in the last eight years.” He lifted his dark brows appreciatively, as if in mute agreement, and took a long swallow of his coffee.
The intimate conversation made Ashley bold. “So why haven’t you ever married?” she asked before her courage escaped her.
He set his cup down and stared out the window for what seemed an eternity. “I’d like to give you the old cliche about never finding the right woman,” he replied, rubbing his chin in the process and continuing to stare at the frosty panes. “But then, we both know it would be a lie.”
Ashley stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. She shook her head sadly. “I just told you that I’ve grown up. I’m not as naive as I was, Trevor, nor as—”
“Trusting?”
“That, too, I suppose. I’d like to think that you and I were just star-crossed lovers and that our time hadn’t come yet. Now that we’ve found each other again, everything will be fine.” She ran one finger around the rim of her cup and stared at the murky coffee. Her voice had grown hoarse. “But that’s not the way it is. You’re not Prince Charming, and I’m certainly no Sleeping Beauty, waiting for a man to change my life.” Her sea-green eyes held his calmly. “Too much has happened between us. And,” she added pointedly, “it’s my guess that the reason you haven’t married is that you haven’t found the perfect mate.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“I doubt it.” She shook her head. “You want too much in a wife, Trevor. A strong woman, who will support you and your damned career. A woman who will do what you want without question, but still has a mind of her own. A woman who will give up everything to be at your side—if and when you want her. And a woman who will wait with the home fires burning until you decide to come home. That’s too much to expect from anyone.”
“Including you.”
She smiled sadly. “Especially
me.”
“And what do you want in a husband?”
Love, she thought to herself, but couldn’t force the word from her lips. Instead, her lips puckered into a secretive frown and she started picking up the dishes. “I don’t want a husband,” she replied.
“You did once. Very badly, as I recall.”
