Behind His Eyes - Truth (22 page)

Her facade melted. “I know and it scares me, too.”

Was he scared?
He was. The memories of this meadow and his last apology brought back other memories, times that he’d seen fear in her eyes. “Do I?” He needed to know.
Did he scare her? Could they overcome the past and raise a child? Did she even want to?
Waiting, he held his breath.

Finally, she replied, “I’m afraid of what you’re capable of doing. You made a point of showing me your control over my friends’ futures.” She reached for his hand. “But of you
personally
? Not anymore. There was a time, but I’ve changed and you’ve changed. No, I’m not.”

There was hope in her answer, real hope. While Tony reeled with this new reality of his world spinning out of control, he reached for that small flicker. Though more than he deserved, it was there. “I don’t want you and this baby living in California.”

“I know, but, Tony, I can’t go back to the past.”

“To here?”

“No, I love
here
. I won’t go back to your supreme control over my every move. I can’t and I won’t allow that kind of life for our child.”

“
Our
child,” he repeated, as he gently touched her midsection. Those words would unite them forever. He wouldn’t allow her to be thousands of miles away—not with
their
child.

Claire nodded with a new gleam to her moonlit eyes. “I went to the doctor on Wednesday. She did an ultrasound. I saw the image of our baby and his heart beating. The sound of his heart reminded me of my lake—here. From that moment on, everything felt right.”

“You keep saying
him
?” His cheeks rose.
A boy? Could Claire know this soon?

She mused, “I have no idea of the baby’s gender.
Him
sounds better than
it
, don’t you think?”

“You know,” he continued, trying to be honest, “you’re very good at pretending. I knew it before, but tonight you were perfect at every turn. I felt your anger, yet you appeared perfect. How do I really know how you feel?”

“How do I know how
you
feel? Or that you won’t do something to me like you did before, with the attempted murder?”

He closed his eyes and lowered his lips to the top of her head. “I guess we need to trust one another.”

“Can we do that?” Claire asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

He pondered her question as he took her hand and helped her back to the car.
Could they?
Could they trust?
This wasn’t the time to remind Claire that she’d been the one to leave him, the one to fail the test and sever that trust.

On the ride home, Tony asked questions and Claire answered. No one else knew about the pregnancy. She’d wanted to see Tony and decide what to do, which from the moment she saw the ultrasound, Claire knew that
not having
the baby wasn’t an option. She told him about the sickness, what she’d thought was food poisoning, and the bacon. He asked when she suspected. Had she known when he was in California?

“Sunday, less than a week ago, was when I first started questioning. I did a home pregnancy test, and on Wednesday I went to the doctor.”

Today was Friday. It had all happened so recently. In less than a week, both of their worlds spun into a new orbit. The little life inside of her would change them forever. When they entered the estate, Claire said good-night to Tony at the bottom of the stairs. Holding tightly to her hand, he replied, “I’d like to join you, just to talk.”

“Not tonight.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

He didn’t argue; he, too, had much to ponder.

After he watched her disappear up the stairs and down the corridor, Tony went to his office to check his messages. With everything that happened, he hadn’t checked his phone since before dinner. Peering at the screen, he touched a missed text message from Phillip Roach. The words were a punch to his gut, pushing the air from his lungs:

“MS. NICHOLS’ APARTMENT WAS BROKEN INTO EARLIER TODAY. NO ONE WAS HOME. IT APPEARS ONLY HER BEDROOM WAS RANSACKED. I’LL SEND MORE INFORMATION AS SOON AS I CAN.”

The reality of the other person lies not in what he reveals to you, but what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says, but rather to what he does not say.

—Kahlil Gibran

Tony woke early with his new reality running laps through his brain. Claire was pregnant—with his child. How it happened, or even why, was no longer worth his consideration. Where to go from here was what he needed to decide. He’d wanted to convince Claire that being in his life was where she needed to be. This baby changed the game: he or she was forcing moves that neither Claire nor Tony had imagined making this soon.

Tony wasn’t sure how to convince Claire, but he’d been dead serious when he said that he didn’t want her and the baby living in California. When it was just Claire, he was willing to wait and let her come to that realization; however, that was no longer the case. The baby may be residing within Claire, but it was half his. In Tony’s opinion, that gave him the edge he needed in his negotiation.

As the morning progressed, though he didn’t want to wake her, he desperately wanted to be near her. Between his workout, shower, and reviewing a few proposals, he’d already accomplished more than most people do in a day. However, if he had his way, his morning would have been spent showing his ex-wife just how much he wanted her around. From someplace deep, a place where he’d suppressed the memories of them, Tony recalled mornings spent watching her sleep and times when his desires would not allow him to let her sleep. He also remembered mornings he‘d slipped from their bed with nothing more than a brief kiss to her hair. Suddenly, he regretted those days—days that his work seemed more important than her.

Time was a stubborn bastard. No matter how much money or influence Anthony Rawlings possessed, he couldn’t change time or turn it back. What he could do was promise that the future would be different. He glanced inside of his desk drawer. For the first time since his dream, the envelope made him smile. For the first time, Tony had hope, genuine hope—that his envelope would not remain empty. He’d never considered filling it with more than Claire, but now—now there was also a child. Tony wasn’t sure why God thought he deserved this opportunity. He wasn’t questioning; instead he wanted to prove—to Nathaniel, to a higher being, to Claire and to his child that he would succeed.

Failure had never been an option and this was no exception. The difference that tugged at his heart was the knowledge that he would never succeed on his own.

Alone, he’d accomplished great things throughout his life. This was different. The realization created an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability. To not fail, to succeed, Tony needed Claire. He needed her help and her guidance. He’d never be able to parent without her. Hell, he wouldn’t have a clue. To make this work, it would take both of them. It was no longer a matter of him having the answers to her requests and questions—this was a whole different world. Suddenly, he had questions and she had answers. The realization left him uneasy.

Tony decided to concentrate on the present. For the time being—if only the next two days—Tony would enjoy having Claire with him. He would work to show her that Iowa, more specifically their estate, was where she belonged. At a little before 7:00 AM, he sent her a text:

“IF YOU ARE FEELING UP TO BREAKFAST, MEET ME ON THE PATIO AT 8:00 AM.”

After he hit
SEND
, Tony suddenly worried. He’d been thinking the fresh air would be good for her, but what if she was ill? She’d told him about the morning sickness. He didn’t want her to be concerned about rushing down to breakfast, if she wasn’t feeling up to it. Apparently, time wasn’t the only thing he couldn’t take back—he couldn’t retrieve a text once it was sent, either. He called the kitchen and informed them of his plans, and that Ms. Claire
may
be joining him.

As soon as Tony saw Claire through the French doors, he remembered her new aversion to coffee, moved his cup away, and greeted her, “Good morning. I wasn’t sure you would wake for my text.”

“Good morning.” Her smile made his cheeks rise. “I did.”

Before he could say another word—tell her how amazing she looked or how he wanted to keep her captive forever—Cindy was by her side, offering her coffee or tea and discussing food. Damn, he needed less attentive staff. As she spoke, he assessed her complexion. To him she was beautiful. When they were finally alone, he asked, “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m feeling well, which is surprising, considering how early this is in California.”

“I think you’re getting used to being in Iowa. It probably isn’t a great idea to keep changing time zones. Maybe you should stay here.”

Smirking, she replied, “I don’t think that would resolve any of my current issues.”

“Oh, but you’re mistaken. It would be ever so helpful.” Tony reached for the bowl of fresh fruit. “Would you like some fruit?”

After Claire spooned some fresh melon and grapes into her bowl, she asked, “Why did you summon me here so early?”

He reached for her hand. “Claire, why do you think everything has double meaning?”

She swallowed her fruit. With her beautiful emerald eyes glowing, she answered, “Because I know you.”

He laughed. “Better than most.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I wanted to discuss the day. I plan to work from home this morning and was hoping we could spend time together before the wedding.”

“I told Sue that I might be available to meet her and Sean this morning in Iowa City. I think I’d like that.”

The playful banter came to a screeching halt. She wanted to leave the estate, to drive away. The last time… Tony didn’t want to go there in his mind. He didn’t want to remember the last time—the
only
time—Claire had driven off of the estate. Finding an acceptable concession, he replied, “Eric can drive you.”

“I was thinking that perhaps you have a car—one that isn’t worth half a million—that you’d let me borrow for a quick drive into town?”

His thoughts battled with one another as their new reality fought with their old. Tony had always prided himself on his ability to maintain a poker face during stressful negotiations. However, when he looked at his ex-wife, the gleam in her eyes and smug smile on her face, Tony knew that she was reading his every thought. She truly knew him like no other. With a smirk, he asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Claire grinned. “Immensely, thanks for asking.”

“The last time you drove away—”

“This time I’m talking to you about it,” she interrupted. “I want to meet Sue for coffee. I’ll return and then you and I will go to the wedding together.”

“I thought coffee made you ill?”

Claire shrugged. “Coffee is an expression for getting together. I can guarantee that I will
not
be having coffee.”

“Getting together? About what?” Just days ago, Sue didn’t want Claire near her child. Now they were going to meet for coffee? It didn’t make sense.

Claire’s shoulders straightened and she leaned across the table. Tony’s gaze struggled to find her fiery eyes instead of concentrating on the way her robe gaped open, giving him a great view of her cleavage. Her hushed but determined tone refocused his view as well as his thoughts. “This is what I don’t want.”

“Concern, Claire, that’s what I have. After all, someone broke into your condominium last night. Don’t you think you should be concerned?”

After Claire thanked Cindy for her food, she returned her attention to Tony. “How do you know about that?”

“So you aren’t surprised?”

“No. I spoke to others about it last night, and I suppose I’m not surprised you know.”

“Others?”

“Yes, Tony—friends. Harry called. I spoke to him and then to Amber. They’re both well,
thank you for asking
.”

All right, so he’d never given them any thought.
Why would he?
Roach had said it happened when Amber wasn’t home. That still didn’t explain her indifference: this was serious. “Why aren’t you more upset?”

“I was initially, but now I think you’re responsible.”

It was his turn to respond with indignation. “Claire, why would
I
have someone break into
your
condo?”

“I don’t know, but whoever it was took my laptop. The only secret information on there is about you.” Claire continued to eat.

Tony sat his cup of coffee on the table. “Me?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying to reconstruct the information from the box I received. I’ve spent a lot of time looking up information about your grandfather and father. It’s on my laptop.” She spoke as though she’d just told him that she had recipes on her hard drive, not secrets he’d worked diligently to keep buried.

“I have nothing to do with this break-in,” Tony said. “I do, however, think you should consider staying here. It is significantly safer.”

“Well, Tony, I’m being honest with you. That laptop contains information regarding Nathaniel and Samuel Rawls. If you aren’t the person responsible for its disappearance, then perhaps you’d like to learn who has it.”