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Trevor rubbed his chin and looked intently at Ashley. “When I refused, Claud got a little nasty. He told me that if I didn’t withdraw, he would see to it that not only was my name dragged through the mud, but yours as well. He thought the public would want to be reminded of our past association, and he insinuated that he thought it would make good copy for the local papers, including the Morning Surveyor.”
Ashley sagged into a recliner by the window. How far would her cousin go to get what he wanted? Her throat was desert-dry, her knees weak,
but her conviction strong. “You can’t be bullied by Claud’s threats.”
“Not as long as I know that you’re with me—on my side.”
Ashley fought against her tears. “I always have been,” she murmured.
He looked as if a terrible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Now that you’re safe, nothing else matters.”
“Except your career.”
“Damn my career.”
“Trevor, you’ve worked too long and hard to give up now. It’s all within your grasp. Everything you’ve wanted.”
His blue eyes darkened savagely. “What I want, dear lady, is right here.”
“Meaning what?”
“You never have understood, have you? I’m asking you to marry me, Ashley, and I’m not about to take no for an answer.”
“Are you serious?” Desperately Ashley wanted to believe him, and yet, the entire night seemed like part of a dream.
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Will you marry me?” He strode across the room and pulled her out of the chair, forcing her to meet the sincerity of his gaze.
Tears pooled in her eyes and she managed a weak smile. “Of course I’ll marry you, Senator. I just wonder why it took eight years for you to come to your senses?”
“Because I’ve been a fool, Ashley. A goddamned, self-righteous, egotistical fool.”
“Join the club.”
Trevor laughed aloud before scooping her off her feet and carrying her through the darkened house and up the stairs to his bedroom.
Chapter Eleven
When Ashley awoke the next morning, Trevor was already out of bed. She stretched in the cool sheets and smiled as she remembered making love to Trevor long into the night. They had spent the dark hours passionately entwined in each other’s arms, with the only interruption being one telephone call that Trevor had received in the early hours of the morning.
“I thought you weren’t taking any calls,” Ashley had grumbled groggily when she glanced at the digital display of the clock on the nightstand. The luminous numbers had indicated that it was nearly two in the morning.
“I’m not,” had been Trevor’s cryptic reply. “Only those that come in on my private line, like this one. Then I know it’s important.” She felt as if he were holding back something from her but she was too tired to care. After his brief explanation, he had reached for the phone and taken the call, which had been lengthy and very one-sided.
Ashley hadn’t been able to decipher Trevor’s end of the conversation, and she had been too sleepy to concentrate. Before Trevor had finished talking, she had curled up around him and drifted off to sleep, warm and content as he stroked her hair with one hand while holding the telephone with the other. She had felt the coiled tension in his rigid muscles and had wondered vaguely if there was something seriously the matter, but she had fallen back into a dreamless sleep without any answers to her questions.
This morning the entire incident loomed before her and bothered her a little, but she shoved her worried thoughts aside.
“Your imagination is working overtime again,” she chastised herself with a self-mocking smile.
After taking a quick shower, she put her clothes on and brushed her hair before walking down the curved oak staircase to the main floor of the house. The warm morning smells of hot coffee and burning wood greeted her. Ashley was smiling when she breezed into the kitchen looking for Trevor.
The room was empty. There were signs that Trevor had been there; the coffee had finished dripping through the coffeemaker into the clear glass pot, and the morning newspaper had been brought into the house and torn apart. Several sections were still lying haphazardly on the table near the bay window. Ashley scanned the headlines and noticed that the front page of the paper was missing.
It was then she heard the low, angry rumble of Trevor’s voice coming from the direction of the den. With quickening steps, Ashley followed the sound. What could have happened? The sketchy memory of the late-night telephone call entered her mind and her heart began to race.
Trevor sounded furious. His rage shook the stately timbers of the old house. “This is the last straw,” he vowed and swore descriptively.
When she approached the door of the study, she paused, not wanting to eavesdrop on a private conversation.
