Behind His Eyes - Truth (10 page)

He waited as she remained silent. Only her stare intensified and prodded, as if she could see deep into his soul. The sudden vulnerability chilled his skin.
Could she see his pain?
Yes, he was responsible for her consequences and pain that she’d endured, but he had pain, too. With all his heart he wanted to make them both forget it all—the pain, the past, everything. Stepping toward her, he saw anxiety in her expression increase. His chest ached at the realization that she was frightened of him. He would do anything to change that.

Exhaling, he maintained his distance and forged ahead. “Damn it, Claire. Nothing has been the same without you. The house is just a big, empty hole.”

“Tell me why,” she demanded.

“Why is it empty? Because you’re not there.”

“No, Tony. Why did you do it to me? Why’d you set me up—worse, arrange my entire life to look as though I was after your money, setting you up for the kill? You know I continually told you I didn’t care about the money. But everything, from the beginning, was manipulated to make me look guilty. Now you say you loved me. You don’t do that to someone you love. Tell me why you did it.”

“It isn’t past tense, Claire. I still love you. And I thought you knew why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“What was in the box you said you received? What information did you think I revealed?”

Suddenly, he envisioned her in prison, receiving the package. It wasn’t a thought he’d entertained before his dream. He’d convinced himself that prison was her fault, but now having her before him, he thought about the time she’d endured in a cell—months, a year. Thirteen days in her suite had nearly broken her. Damn, he deserved anything she said to him and anything she did with this newfound knowledge.

Her words rushed together, glued by years of suppression. “There were pictures, articles, and a letter. It explained that your birth name was Anton Rawls, and that you changed it after the death of your grandfather and parents.”

Perspiration threatened to dampen his veneer, as his hidden past came rolling from her tongue. “Was it handwritten? Where is it? I’d like to see it.”

“Yes, the note was handwritten. I thought it looked like your writing. It wasn’t signed, but you never signed anything.” Her fire-filled gaze disappeared as her eyes dropped to the floor. “You can’t see it. I burned it.”

His anxiety lifted as a relieved laugh escaped his lips. “You what?”

Her stare once again found its target as the intensity grew. “I burned it—all of it. I took it to the incinerator at the prison and watched it burn.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re serious. You have no proof of anything you just said? You burned it.” A smile momentarily flittered across his lips. “I don’t know who sent it to you. I did confirm, today, that you received a box in October of last year. The prison said the return address was Emily’s.”

Claire nodded. “Yes, I assumed it was books or something.”

“Burned it. Why?”

She shook her head. “I’ve asked myself that same question a thousand times. I believe it was a cleansing of sorts, my way of removing you from my life.”

Tony smirked, “How’s that working for you?”

Claire’s grin filled his heart. It was more real than any last night, and he didn’t want it to stop. “Not as well as I’d hoped.” Looking about, she added, “I really do need to get ready for my lunch date. If we’re done, I’d like you to leave.”

Date?
He didn’t want to leave—ever. “I would like to ask you one more thing.”

Claire nodded.

“Who was the expected recipient of that dazzling smile?”

Her head tilted and brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“When you first opened the door, your smile was earth-shaking. Who were you expecting?”

“A good friend.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, but Claire didn’t respond.
A good friend
.
Could it be Harrison Baldwin?
He would or could have a key; after all, he’s Amber’s brother.
Or did someone else have a key?

Claire stood. “If you’ll follow me; I’ll show you to the door.”

Tony followed. “I will not give up my quest.” He wanted to be honest, too. He wanted her back in every way possible, by his side, united in everything.

When they reached the door, Claire said, “Please give Catherine my love. If you have truly changed, as you claim, you’ll respect my decision. If that’s the case, you’re wasting your time.”

“I have invested much more. One last thing,” he paused as his words slowed. “Do not share your unsupported theories with anyone.” He’d kept this part of his life hidden for years. The repercussions of it becoming public were too far reaching.

Claire’s neck straightened. “I’m sorry. It’s too late for that.”

Though her words set off alarms, her proximity incited desires, pushing the warnings temporarily away. Wanting one last morsel of contact, Tony reached for her hand, lowered his lips to soft skin, and brushed her palm with the tips of his fingers. Despite her demeanor, her acceptance and arousal were evident. If he could just take her back to Iowa—there were so many things he wanted to do.

With her hand still in his, he warned, “Be careful. You don’t want to disappoint me.”

Her posture grew and her voice feigned strength. “That—is no longer my concern. Good-bye, Tony.”

Nodding, Tony turned and strode through the door toward the elevator. Behind him, he heard Claire’s door shut. The sound reverberated through the unoccupied hallway, returning the emptiness of the last fifteen months to his soul. Part of him wanted to turn around and tell her that, no matter what, she could never disappoint him.

Then he remembered her question, why?
Why did he choose her?
He lowered his head and debated the answer. It was because of the vendetta; she should have figured that out from the box. Tony knew in his heart that it was so much more. She was part of him. Maybe that was the real purpose of the vendetta: it brought them together in the most unlikely of circumstances. Fate. No matter of the why, the truth was that he needed her. He was incomplete without her, and he didn’t want to live another moment without knowing she would once again be part of his life.

Suddenly, he turned on his heels and returned to her door. He would tell her!

Before he could knock, the crash of something breaking came through her door. Tony inclined his head and listened. With each passing minute of silence, his anxiety grew.
What if she were hurt?
He knew Amber was out of town. Claire might be injured and in need of help.

Tony reached for the handle, expecting it to be locked; however, it turned under his grasp. Hesitantly, he opened the door and slowly entered the foyer. Straining his ears, he heard only silence.

Walking in the opposite direction from the living room, he neared a partially open door. Pushing it wider, he found a bedroom. Immediately, he knew it was Claire’s. It wasn’t one thing in particular, although he did see a picture of Emily and John; the space was filled with her presence—her scent and her aura. Searching the room for his ex-wife, he allowed his fingers to touch the sheets of her unmade bed. Instantaneously, images of her sleeping upon this bed filled his thoughts—or better yet, not sleeping.

His loafers echoed on the wood floor of the silent condominium as he walked back toward the living room. When he turned the corner, he saw Claire was lying on the sofa, and on the table, was the small cell phone she’d put into her camisole. He picked it up. The screen was cracked. When he tried to access the numbers, nothing happened. Perhaps that was the sound he’d heard.

His heartbeat quickened. Tony knew that he should show himself out. Claire was all right, just sleeping. He should leave and not look back.

He couldn’t. Though she wasn’t speaking or moving, her presence pulled him closer. Her slightly parted lips looked perfect for kissing. Before he could stop himself, Tony knelt beside his ex-wife and touched his lips to hers. The decadent sweetness aroused him; he yearned to taste more than her lips. With her eyes still closed, Claire’s body moved toward him. He expected her to tell him to leave; instead, a soft moan echoed throughout the condominium. The sound was magical, like a switch turning on the feelings and emotions he’d tried to hide.

Tony didn’t know what was going to happen, but she looked wrong sleeping on the couch. Her bedroom was so close; he decided she needed to be in there.

“Claire, put your arms around my neck.”

He waited.
Would she respond?
She moaned again with a slight shake of her head. Tony tried for another kiss. This time when their lips united, hers were no longer soft, but firm and puckered as they pushed against his. When her mouth parted slightly and her tongue searched for his, he couldn’t control himself any longer. Conscious reasoning disappeared as primal instinct took over. Before he could repeat his demand, her arms encircled his neck, fanning the heat of his desire. His mouth searched for hers, hungry for more. This wasn’t just him. He’d felt the mutual attraction earlier. They were both willingly surrendering. Claire’s breasts heaved against his chest as her arms tightened their embrace. He gently lifted her from the sofa causing their lips to momentarily disengage.

The sound of her purring unrecognizable words as she nuzzled her cheek into his shirt made her room suddenly seem too far away. Tony wanted to ask if she were sure, if she wanted this as much as he did, yet, as he lowered her onto her bed, he feared her response. If he didn’t ask, he could claim innocence. Gazing into her bedroom eyes, he slowly removed the clip from her hair and fanned the long brown tresses over her pillow. The scent of shampoo filled his senses, as her back arched and the most beautiful smile lit his world.

His fingers lingered at her collarbone as his lips found the sensitive skin of her neck. Piece by piece, he removed her clothing. At times he directed her movements, asking her to lift her arms or arch her back. Each command was met with compliance. When he lifted her camisole over her head, he watched as her pink nipples hardened before his eyes.

Tony couldn’t stop his fingers from caressing the hard nubs. Claire’s body responded as she pushed her breasts toward his hands and whimpered his name.

The sound of Claire speaking his name—dripped with need—threatened his resilience as he eased her soft pants over her hips and toward her ankles. Before he could remove them completely, Tony saw her panties and gasped. The small piece of black lace was Claire’s ultimate display of independence. The panties both fascinated and intrigued him. Curiously, he encircled her hips with his large hands as his thumbs teased the small bow directly above his destination.

Lost in his own sensations, he didn’t notice the change in Claire’s breathing until he saw the goose bumps upon her skin. When he tore his eyes from the delicate lace, he saw her alarm. Tony couldn’t comprehend the change; instead, he breathed deeply in anticipation and displayed a reassuring, devilish grin.

She sighed as her eyes mellowed, and she lifted her hips for him to remove the panties. When they slipped over her ankles, she said, “This isn’t real. This is a dream.”

“Do you want it to be a dream?”

She shook her head, and repeated, “It isn’t real.”

Tony smiled at her justification. There was no way this wasn’t real. He’d dreamed about her, her scent, and the taste of her soft skin. He’d imagined her body and fantasized about her responses… this was all of that and more!

After he removed his clothes, he climbed upon the bed and watched her eyes for approval. Tony wanted this more than he wanted life, but he wouldn’t take it from her unwillingly. He’d done that before and swore to never again. With her petite body radiating immense heat, he eased himself over her. The tips of her hardened nipples pressed against his chest as he lowered his lips once again to her shoulder.

“Please,” was all Claire could seem to manage as his lips moved from shoulder to neck and down to her breasts. As he suckled each nipple, Claire’s fingers wound through his hair and pulled his mouth tighter against her chest. When his lips moved past her flat stomach, her pleas became louder and less coherent. The scent of her arousal intoxicated Tony as he gently spread her legs.

“God, you are so amazing.” He needed to hear her approval. If she denied him, he didn’t know if he could stop, but he needed to know that this was consensual. “Are you sure?” Once again, he held himself above her body as their eyes made contact. “Claire, are you sure?”

“Oh, God, yes, please!”

She didn’t need to repeat herself. His fingers delved as gasps and moans filled his ears. Her petite hands seized his shoulders as her body quivered at his touch. When the time came and they reunited, Tony couldn’t remember anything,
anytime
, feeling so right.

Claire was his. He’d made terrible mistakes and done awful things, but as they moved in sync, he saw hope for a future. He told her over and over how beautiful she was, how magnificent she was, and how much he wanted her. He knew it wouldn’t be easy—hell, he wasn’t supposed to be seen with her in public—but it would be. He knew every inch of Claire, inside and out. He knew that the woman with him was there willingly. She may keep making comments about reality and dreams, but he understood. This was his dream, too.

Her time away hadn’t changed the magnificent woman she was. She still excited him. Her hands, lips, and body could bring him to heights he’d never approached with anyone else. Her lack of inhibition proclaimed her newfound independence. She willingly pleased him while allowing him to fulfill her every fantasy. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. There was no question: in dream or reality, they belonged together.

After every desire was fulfilled and every height exceeded, they collapsed in each other’s arms. Claire’s breathing slowed as she nuzzled against his chest, and her fingers swirled through his chest hair. Within moments, she was sound asleep.

Tony lay with her for a while, drifting in and out of dreams. Maybe Claire was right. Maybe this wasn’t real. As he held her sleeping body, he wondered if reality could truly be this amazing.