Proof of Innocence: Yesterday's Lies / Devil's Gambit. Lisa Jackson

The protest forming in her throat was cut off when his arms wrapped around her and he drew her close, the length of his body pressed urgently to hers.

      “I’ve missed you, Tory,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotions he would rather have denied.

      “And I’ve missed you.”

      “But you still can’t forgive me?”

      She shook her head and for a moment she thought he would release her. He hesitated and stared into her pain-filled eyes. “Oh, hell,” he muttered, once again pulling her close to him and claiming her lips with his.

      His hands were warm against her back and through the fabric of her blouse she felt the heat of his fingers against her skin. Her legs were entwined with his and his hips pressed urgently to hers, pinning her to the ground as one of his hands moved slowly upward and removed the leather throng restraining her hair.

      “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered against her ear as he twined his fingers in her hair, watching the auburn-tinged curls frame her face in wild disarray. Slumberous green eyes rimmed with dark curling lashes stared up at him longingly. “I want you, Tory,” he said, his breathing ragged, his heart thudding in his chest and the heat in his loins destroying rational thought. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

      “I don’t know that wanting is enough, Trask,” she whispered, thinking about the agonizing hours she had spent in the past five years wanting a man she couldn’t have; wishing for a father who was already dead; desiring the life she had once had before fate had so cruelly ripped it from her.

      “Just let me love you, Tory.”

      The words had barely been said when she felt Trask stiffen. He turned to look over his shoulder just as a shot from a rifle cracked through the still mountain air.

      Tory’s blood ran cold with fear and a scream died in her throat. Trask flattened himself over her body, protectively covering her as the shot ricocheted through the trees and echoed down the hillside. Dear God, what was happening? The sound was so close!

      With the speed and agility of an athlete, Trask scrambled to his feet while jerking her arm and pulling her to relative safety behind a large boulder.

      Tory’s heart was hammering erratically as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and discovered that her hands were shaking. “Oh, God,” she whispered in desperate prayer.

      “Are you okay?” His eyes scanned her face and body.

      Her voice failed her but she managed to nod her head.

      “You’re sure?”

      “Yes!”

      “Who knows we’re here?” Trask demanded, his hushed voice harsh, his eyes darting through the trees.

      “No one—I didn’t tell anyone,” she replied.

      “Well someone sure as hell knows we were here!”

      “But—”

      “Shh!” He clamped his hand over her mouth and raised a finger to his lips as he strained to hear any noise that might indicate the whereabouts of the assailant. Far down the hillside, the sound of hurried footsteps crackled through the brush. Tory’s skin prickled with fear and her eyes widened until she realized that the footsteps were retreating, the sound of snapping branches becoming more distant.

      Trask moved away from the protection of the boulder as if intent on tracking the assailant.

      “Trask! No!” Tory screamed, clutching at his arm. “Leave it alone.”

      He tried to shake her off and turned to face her. “Someone’s taking shots at us and I’m going to find out who.”

      “No wait! He has a rifle, you...you can’t go. You don’t have any way of protecting yourself!”

      “Tory!”

      “Damn it, Trask, I’m scared!” she admitted, holding his gaze as well as his arm. Her lower lip trembled and she had to fight the tears forming in her eyes. “You can’t die, too,” she whispered. “I won’t let you!” He stood frozen to the spot. “I love you, Trask,” Tory admitted. “Please, please, don’t get yourself killed. It’s not worth it. Nothing is!” Tory felt near hysteria as she clutched at his arm.

      Trask stood stock still, Tory’s words restraining him. “You love me?” he repeated.

      “Yes!” Her voice broke. “Oh, God, yes.”

      “But you’ve been denying—”

      “I know, I know. It’s just that I don’t want to love you.”

      “Because of the past.”

      “Yes.”

      “Then we have to find out the truth,” he decided.

      “It’s not worth getting killed.”

      Trask’s eyes followed the sound of the retreating footsteps and the skin whitened over his cheekbones as he squinted into the encroaching night. His one chance at finding the accomplice in Jason’s murder had just slipped through his fingers. When silence once again settled on the ridge, he turned his furious gaze on Tory. His grip on her shoulders, once gentle, was now fierce.

      “Who did you tell that we were here?” he demanded.

      “No one!”

      “But your brother and that foreman, Rex Engels, they knew we would be here this afternoon.”

      Tory shook her head and her green eyes blazed indignantly. She jerked away from his fingers and scooted backward on the ground. “I didn’t tell anyone, Trask. Not even Keith or Rex; they...neither one of them would have approved. As far as I know the only person who knew we were coming here today was Neva!”

      The corners of Trask’s mouth tightened and he glared murderously at Tory. “Someone set us up.”

      “And you think it was me?”

      “Of course not. But it sure as hell wasn’t Neva!”

      “Why not? She didn’t want you coming up here, did she? She doesn’t want you to look into Jason’s death, does she? Why wouldn’t she do something to sabotage you?”

      He walked away a few steps and rubbed the back of his neck. “That just doesn’t make any sense.”

      “Well nothing else does either. The anonymous note, the dead calf and now this—” She raised her hands over her head. “Nothing is making any sense, Trask. Ever since you came back to the Lazy W, there’s been nothing but trouble!”

      “That’s exactly the point, isn’t it?” he said quietly, his mouth compressing into an angry line. “Someone’s trying to scare you; warn you to stay away from me.”

      “If that’s his intention, whoever he is, he’s succeeded! I’m scared right out of my mind,” she admitted while letting her head fall into her palm.

      “What about the rest, Tory? That shot a few minutes ago was a warning to you to stay away from me!” He looked over his shoulder one last time.

      “If that’s what it was—”

      “That’s exactly what it was,” he interjected. “Let’s go, before someone decides to take another potshot at us.”

      “You think that’s what they were trying to do?”