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“Why, damn it!” He gave her shoulders a shake and forced her to look in his eyes. “Tell me it’s not just a game with you. That you’re interested in more than a quick one-night stand with the son of Robert Daniels.”

The words stung, but she bravely returned his gaze. “Oh, Trevor, it’s not because you’re a Daniels,” she whispered. “I know that I want you and not just for the rest of the afternoon.”

His relief seemed genuine and the lines of frustration marring his brow relaxed as his lips found hers in a kiss that was as tender as it was urgent.

His fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse and he paused only to kiss her downy white skin when the fabric began to gap. Her breasts strained against the wet cotton and tingled in swollen anticipation when his tongue probed near the lace edging of her flimsy bra.

“No more excuses,” he whispered against the ripeness of her aching nipples.

Ashley swallowed against the dryness settling in her throat. “I only want to be with you,” she murmured, sucking in her breath as he unhooked the front clasp of her bra and pushed both it and her blouse over her shoulders to be discarded in a wrinkled heap on the floor. Then, gently, using his weight, he forced her to the floor and let his hands run in sensual circles over her smooth, white skin. Though the ache in his loins burned uncomfortably, he forced himself to go slowly, to give as much pleasure as he would extract from the voluptuous daughter of Lazarus Stephens.

She was lying next to him, and her damp, black hair fell over the white mounds of her delicious breasts, brushing over the taut, protruding nipples when she moved her head.

Slowly he descended, and when his mouth covered one rosy point, she moaned in pleasure, running her fingers through the thick, damp strands of his hair. Never had she felt such ecstasy and torment. Without considering her actions, she began to unbutton his shirt, forcing it off his shoulders and letting her fingers run over the tight muscles, the mat of curly black hair and the hard male nipples. His breathing became as ragged as her own and Ashley knew that there was no going back. Tonight she would give herself willingly, gloriously to this man. The fiery union of their bodies would be equaled only by the blending of their souls.

When his fingers toyed with the waistband of her jeans she didn’t resist. She belonged to Trevor and she felt an overwhelming sense of relief when his strong hands forced the denim fabric to slide easily over her hips, down her legs and past her ankles to find the same fate as her crumpled blouse.

His fingers lingered on her legs and the warmth within her grew. His eyes held hers as he slowly unzipped his jeans and kicked them off. She saw the reflection of the fire in the passion of his gaze. They were naked together, one man and one woman, high in the privacy of the proud Cascades. The smell of coffee and pitchy wood mingled with the scents of rainwater and sweat to blend together in a sensual aroma.

When he came to her, it was the most natural act she had ever experienced. Slowly he lowered his body over hers, positioning himself so that he could read the expression on her face, withholding the urge to take her in a quick eruption of desire.

At first he had planned to bed her quickly and forget her, but he knew now that he was forever lost to her. He wanted Ashley to feel the exquisite pleasure of their mating.

His face was tight, the lines of strain evident when his head lowered and his lips touched hers at the very moment that she felt his desire touch her soul.

“Trevor,” she moaned in resplendent agony as he slowly moved within her. “Please . . . please . . .” Her words were fuel to the fire of his white-hot desire. The rhythm quickened until, at last, he could hold back no longer. With a rush of unbound passion, he let go, and Ashley felt the shudder of his release as he collapsed upon her. His weight was a welcome burden. She wrapped her arms around his torso and closed her eyes against the tears of joy threatening to overtake her.

Was it love she felt for this man or merely lust?

* * *

The affair had run a torrid course through the rest of the summer. Whenever Ashley would get the chance, she would leave the Willamette Valley and meet Trevor in a private tryst of love in the Cascades: After that first moment of triumph and uncertainty, Ashley knew that she loved Trevor Daniels, not because his father was a rival to Stephens Timber Corporation, but because he was the most exciting and wonderful man she had ever met.

It was a glorious summer filled with dreams and promises, laughter and love. For the first time in her life, Ashley learned how to care for someone other than herself. It felt wonderful. She wanted to shout her love for Trevor from the mountaintops.

Somehow—Ashley suspected that Claud was the source—Lazarus found out that she was having an affair with Trevor. Her father was livid.

“How could you do this to me?” he had raged. Seated at the scarred wooden desk in his den, he seemed suddenly old.

“It just happened, Dad,” she had tried to explain.

“Just happened! Don’t tell me you’re that naïve, for God’s sake! All that schooling in France—didn’t you learn a damned thing! I’ll bet Daniels planned this affair all along.”

“That’s preposterous,” Ashley replied indignantly, but a niggling doubt entered her mind. Hadn’t Trevor as much as admitted that he had been looking for her, that he had wanted her for years? Was their affair just a way to seek revenge against her father?

“You’re so blinded by love that you can’t see the truth when it stares you in the face,” Lazarus charged, his complexion turning scarlet. His hands raised into the air in a gesture of defeat and supplication for divine intervention. “That son of Robert Daniels is just using you as a weapon against me! He’s obviously trying to dig up some dirt on our family and find some way—no matter how obscure—to blame me for his father’s disappearance!”

“This has nothing to do with Robert Daniels,” Ashley insisted, but she couldn’t forget her first heated conversation with Trevor at Sara Lambert’s party.

“The hell it doesn’t!” Lazarus’s fist crashed onto the desk, rattling the drawers.

“Dad, I love him!” Ashley cried.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Lazarus braced himself against the desk in his office. His eyes slid from Ashley to the view of the Portland city lights before returning, condemningly, to his only child. “Can’t you see that he’s using you? If that bastard can’t find a way to ruin my reputation, he’ll settle for you and yours. He knows that by seducing you, he’s wounding me.” He ran agitated fingers through his thinning hair and his large shoulders slumped in defeat.

Though Ashley’s heart went out to him, she couldn’t deny the love she felt for Trevor. “You’d better get used to this, Dad,” Ashley warned rebelliously, though her faith in Trevor was beginning to waver.

“And why’s that?”

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