AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But why?” She touched his shoulder lightly. “What’s going on with you? The rumor’s out that you’re pulling out of the race.”
“Is that why you came here tonight?” he demanded, his eyes instantly glittering with smoky blue fire.
“No. But it made me realize I had to see you again . . . touch you. There are things we need to discuss.”
Trevor managed a beguiling smile. “We will, after I fix you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” she began to protest.
“Come on, indulge me, I’m starving.”
“What you’re doing is avoiding the issue.”
“In the manner of a true politician.” He stood up and pulled on his jeans before tossing her clothes to her. “If you want to talk, you’d better get dressed. Otherwise, I won’t be liable for what happens.” His eyes slid seductively down her body and lingered at the swell of her breasts. “You’re too damned beautiful for my own good.”
Ashley smiled wryly as she stepped into her skirt and slid the camisole over her head. While adjusting the zipper of the slim skirt, she caught Trevor staring at her. He was leaning against the fireplace and his arms were crossed over his chest as he watched her work with the obstinate zipper.
“A lot of help you are,” she muttered.
“If I come over there and touch you, you can bet that I would be pulling down instead of up.”
Her head snapped upward. “You were the one who wanted me to get dressed.”
“You got it all wrong, lady.”
“Don’t I always?”
He shook his head and laughed. “You wanted to talk and I told you that would be impossible, unless you had some clothes on. Otherwise, I might get distracted.”
“Promises, promises,” she teased just as the zipper locked into place.
Trevor’s eyes flashed ominously. “I’m not through with you yet, you know. And every time you tease me, I’ll extract my own kind of punishment on you later.”
“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Ashley cocked her head to the side and her dark hair framed her face in soft curls.
Trevor shrugged, refusing to be baited by her coy mood, though he wondered to himself how one woman could tear his guts out with a coquettish toss of her head. “With you, I’m never sure of anything.”
Ashley sobered instantly. Trevor took her hand and led her to the kitchen near the back of the house.
“I don’t think there’s much here . . .” he said, beginning to scrounge through the contents of the refrigerator.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not the one who’s starved,” she pointed out, staring unabashedly at the way his jeans strained over his buttocks as he leaned into the refrigerator.
“Hmph . . . Here we go. How about an omelet?”
“Anything—would you like me to cook?”
“Not on your life.” Then, when he looked up, he smiled disarmingly. “It might be safer if you did.”
Ashley was glad for an excuse to keep busy. While whipping the eggs and grating the cheese, she could feel Trevor’s eyes on her and for the first time in weeks she was completely relaxed, as if she had come home from a long and tedious journey.
They ate the meal in silence, and Ashley savored each sweet second she shared with Trevor.
“So tell me,” she insisted, clearing the plates from the small table in the windowed alcove just off the kitchen, “what’s with all this talk about your withdrawal from the race?”
“So far that’s what it is: just talk.”
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” she observed.
