understand?'
'I understood just fine when Lee Roy told me that she was your woman.' Buck rose off the edge of his desk, straightened the jacket of his three-piece gray pinstriped suit, and ran his hand across the top of his head, smoothing the strands of his slick, brown hair.
'All right, let's say I believe you. If you're telling the truth, then someone else has put out a contract on Deborah. Who?'
'I don't know anything about a contract, but … for a friend, I could find out.'
'For a friend?' Ashe wasn't sure what to believe, but his gut instincts told him that he just might have to trust Buck Stansell. 'Okay, Buck, old friend. Although the local and state authorities may be interested in your illegal dealings, my only concern is Deborah Vaughn. As long as she's safe, I have no reason to cause you any grief.'
'You give me your word and I'll give you mine.' Buck stuck out his broad, square hand, each finger sporting an expensive ring.
'As long as Deborah and her family are safe, you have nothing to fear from me,' Ashe said.
'You stay out of my business and, as proof of my innocence and a show of my friendship, I'll make some inquiries and find out who's behind Deborah Vaughn's recent problems.'
Ashe took Buck's hand, exchanging a powerful, macho shake, sealing a deal with the devil, a deal to keep Deborah safe. Ashe knew only too well the kind of man Buck Stansell was, the kind of man his own father had been. Among these redneck hooligans there was a certain code of honor, so Ashe was willing to give Buck the benefit of the doubt. For the time being.
He knew better than to trust Buck completely, knew he'd better watch his back. If Buck thought Ashe posed a threat to his organization, his old friend would have no qualms about killing him. A guy like Buck might even ask Lee Roy to do the job for him, and get some sort of perverse pleasure from seeing which cousin would come out alive.
No, Ashe trusted Buck Stansell only so far. Now wasn't the time to bring the man down. He'd leave that to the authorities. Unless Buck lied to him. Then he'd take care of Buck himself.
Ashe made several calls after he left the Sweet Nothings club, one to Sam Dundee to ask him to initiate an investigation of the people in Deborah's life, those who might benefit from her death. Buck Stansell could be lying about his innocence in the garage fire, the drive-by shooting, and the brakes tampering. If he was telling the truth, then someone else had a motive; someone else wanted Deborah out of the way. But who? And why?
He spoke with the Florence police again, then met with Sheriff Blaylock and Sheffield police chief Ed Burton. He couldn't fault the local authorities. They'd done their jobs the best they could. Ashe especially liked Burton. He respected the man. The two of them had spent the past few hours going over all the leads, all the possibilities.
Ashe had expected the entire Vaughn household to be in bed when he arrived, after all it was nearly eleven. Tapping in the numbers for the security alarm at the back of the house, Ashe unlocked and opened the door. Only the tiny night-light on the refrigerator's ice and water dispenser burned, creating a dim glow in the room.
Wearing a floor-length maroon red robe, Deborah stood in his path, blocking him from entering. Dear God, she looked good enough to eat, all soft and silky, lush and delicious. His first instinct was to reach out and grab her.
'I thought you'd be in bed.' He took a step inside the kitchen. Deborah stood right in front of him, not moving an inch. 'You didn't get any sleep last night. You should be resting, honey.'
'How am I supposed to rest with you out till nearly midnight? Allen asked about you at supper and Mother's been worried.'
What was this? She was fit to be tied. What was her problem? He didn't want to argue; he wanted to make love.
'Before I left, I told you I wouldn't be in until late.' When he reached out to take her by the shoulders and draw her into his arms, she backed away from him, her blue eyes cold, their expression daring him to touch her.
'I had business to take care of,' he said. 'The business of keeping you safe, of making sure nothing happens to you or Allen or Miss Carol.'
'Roarke was protecting us. Just what were you doing?'
'What the hell's wrong with you, Deborah? Why are you so angry?'
'I'm not angry.' He took several steps toward her; she backed farther and farther away. 'I was worried. You left here to go see Buck Stansell. You told us you'd be late, but you've been gone nearly five hours. For all I knew, you'd been killed or—'
Ashe charged across the room, drew her into his arms and held her close. 'I'm fine, honey. You shouldn't have worried about me. I told you that I know how to handle Buck Stansell and his type.'
Hell, she'd been worried about him. He should have called to let her know he was all right. But he wasn't used to having anyone worry about him.
Deborah clung to Ashe, running her hands up and down his arms, clutching him as she laid her head on his chest. She knew she was acting irrationally, but she couldn't help herself. With each passing minute that she had waited for Ashe, she'd grown more tense, more worried, more concerned that Buck Stansell might have killed him.
Smelling his jacket, she jerked her head up and looked at him, then pulled out of his arms. He'd been with a woman, someone who bathed in her perfume.
Deborah glared at him, her small hands tightening into fists. She'd been worried sick about him and he'd been with another woman! Damn him! She'd been a fool to trust Ashe McLaughlin, to believe she was the only woman in his life.
'You smell like a very expensive French whore!'
Ashe laughed. 'Actually, I smell like a fairly cheap Alabama whore.'
He had left the house hours ago, on a mission to confront Buck Stansell. She'd been half out of her mind with worry. When hours passed and he didn't return, didn't call, she had imagined all sorts of terrible things, but she certainly hadn't thought that he was with another woman.
'I've spent the last two hours crazy with worry, scared to death that something had happened to you, and you've been with some woman!'
Ashe covered his mouth to conceal his chuckle. He'd never seen Deborah this jealous, not even over Whitney. Did she honestly think that he'd been fooling around with someone else? Didn't she realize that he couldn't see anyone except her, that she was the only woman he wanted, that thoughts of her filled his every waking moment?
'Don't you dare stand there and laugh about it!'
'Your life is in danger,' Ashe said. 'There could be a contract out on you and what are you worried about? You're worried about whether or not I've been out messing around with another woman.'
Dammit, he couldn't believe this! She honestly thought he'd touch another woman when he could have her.
'I don't care who you … you … mess around with!'
Ashe came toward her, taking slow, determined steps. He shoved Deborah against the kitchen wall, then braced his hands on each side of her head. 'I'm only going to say this once, so listen very carefully. I have not been having sex with another woman. I don't want or need another woman. There has been no one else in my life since the day I came back to Sheffield.'
Deborah's breasts rose and fell with her labored breathing. She stared Ashe right in the eye, her gaze hard, her lips trembling, her cheeks flushed. 'Then I suppose what I smell on you is some sort of new aftershave.'
Ashe leaned down, touching her lips with his. When she turned her head, he reached out and grabbed her chin in his hand, forcing her to face him. 'What you smell is Evie Lovelady's perfume. She wrapped herself around me when I arrived at the Sweet Nothings club tonight to meet with Buck.'
'Evie Lovelady?' Deborah spat the woman's name out between clenched teeth. 'You and she used to be quite an item if I recall correctly.'
'Evie and most of the guys I hung out with used to be an item. Now she's a happily married woman with three kids. She's Buck's wife.'
