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“You didn’t believe him?”
“No.”
“Unless I miss my guess, Claud’s behind all this.” The doorbell rang and Trevor frowned. “That must be Everett. Watch out, he’s fit to be tied.”
“Aren’t you going to answer it?”
Trevor shook his head. “He has a key. He just rings the bell to warn me—”
“Why?”
A sly smile slanted across Trevor’s handsome face and he trailed a familiar finger along the curve of her jaw. “Just in case I’m in bed with a beautiful woman.”
“Give me a break.”
“I’ll give you more than that.” His dark eyes penetrated the sadness in her gaze. “Buck up,” he suggested, squeezing her shoulders fondly. She felt the strength and determination of his character in his touch. “We’ll rise above all this political dirt.”
“I don’t see how.” As far as Ashley was concerned, everything she’d hoped for, especially a future with Trevor, was slipping away from her. “Maybe you should tell me everything. Trevor, I know that something’s bothering you—”
Everett Woodward stormed into the den in a rage. His face was puckered into a belligerent scowl that darkened when he saw Ashley. He tossed his briefcase and a copy of the Morning Surveyor onto the couch before glaring pointedly at Trevor.
“Well, that’s it—the ball game,” Everett announced without the civility of a greeting. “All that work and effort right down the proverbial drain.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Trevor interposed with a bitter smile.
“Overreacting? Overreacting!” Everett retorted, his round face going beet red. “For God’s sake, man, your career is on the line here, and you have the audacity to suggest that I’m—”
“Jumping off the deep end.”
Everett let out a long, bewildered breath. “What’re you doing here?” he asked Ashley when he turned his attention away from Trevor and trained his furious light eyes on her. “Was this Claud’s idea, too?”
“That’s enough, Everett,” Trevor warned. “Ashley’s staying here.” There was a fierceness in Trevor’s voice that made Ashley shudder. His fingers, which had touched her lightly on the shoulder, gripped her more savagely, as if in proof of his possession.
“You’re joking!”
“Not at all. We’re going to get married as soon as possible.”
“Not on your life! You can’t; not now! The press will have a field day with the both of you,” Everett exclaimed, stunned, his eyes widening behind thick glasses. He took hold of Trevor’s sleeve and looked into the candidate’s eyes. “Not now, Trevor. You can’t associate with Ashley or anyone else at Stephens Timber without looking like a hypocrite. You’ve already lost points in the most recent polls. All those rumors about withdrawing from the race really hurt you, and now this.” He pointed an outraged, shaking finger at the condemning newspaper on the couch. “The last thing you can do right now is announce an engagement to the president of Stephens Timber, for Christ’s sake!”
“I said we’re going to get married.”
Everett was thinking fast when he turned pleading eyes upon Ashley. “Can’t you talk some sense into him? What would waiting another year hurt? The campaign would be over—he’d be comfortable in Washington. You could get married then.”
“Forget it, Everett. I’ve made my decision.” Trevor’s voice was firm; his determination was registered in the tight muscles surrounding his mouth.
“Oh, Lord,” Everett said with a sigh. He sunk into the soft cushions of the couch before swearing roundly. “I need a drink.”
“It’s only ten in the morning—”
“Make it a double.”
Trevor smiled at the campaign manager’s pale complexion. “How about champagne? To celebrate?”
“Scotch.”
Trevor laughed aloud and poured the portly man a stiff drink. Everett accepted it gratefully, took a long swallow and sighed audibly. “I don’t suppose you’ll name your first child after me, will you?” He raised his sheepish eyes in Ashley’s direction.
“We’ll see,” she said with a smile, relieved that the tense confrontation had abated.
