Behind His Eyes - Truth (24 page)

Please confirm the time and place of Ms. Nichols’ arrival. I know her reservations have been changed. I will look for the new times and places.

Thank you.

Tony didn’t mention it during the festivities, but once they were alone in the car, he wanted to know more about the contents of her computer. “Have you spoken to anyone from Palo Alto lately?”

“I haven’t even looked at my phone since we left for the wedding. Why? Has something else happened?”

“Not to my knowledge; however, my source tells me that the intruder to your unit was not interrupted. His only intention was to access
your
room and take your laptop.”

Tony watched from his peripheral vision as Claire contemplated his words. Finally, she asked, “Why would anyone want
my
laptop?”

“What was on it?”

“I don’t know… my bank accounts, my travel itinerary…”

Tony was immediately glad he’d cancelled her flight. He didn’t want this intruder knowing Claire’s plans. He refocused as she continued. “…information about your past, and a rough draft from Meredith about her boo—articles.”

He gripped the steering wheel trying to temper his tone. “I thought this stupid Meredith Banks thing was over?”

“It is,” she replied. “With the money you gave me to give her, she’ll keep it quiet, unless, as you and I agreed, something happens to me or someone I care about.”

He tried to process the contents. “What do you have regarding my past?”

Fidgeting against the leather seat, she answered, “Seriously, I’ve spent so much time on this; it’s hard to condense it into an elevator pitch.”

“Give it a try,” his tone dripped with sarcasm. “I’m sure you can do it.”

Claire inhaled. “Fine. I confirmed Nathaniel and Sharron Rawls had a son named Samuel. He married a woman named Amanda; they had a son named Anton, born February 12, 1965—the same day as you. That, plus a picture in Newsweek showing your grandfather’s home confirmed to me that you were indeed Anton.”

“Well, you know that’s true. Why are you continuing this research?”

“I really don’t want to discuss this… please?”

“Despite your suspicions, I had nothing to do with the break-in. I need to know what the perpetrator now knows.”

“My computer is password-protected. No one besides me can access it.”

He didn’t speak, but looked at her, questioning her secure laptop. He assumed it was password protected with PASSWORD123 or her birthdate—some fail-safe, impenetrable barrier.

Eventually, she said, “Obviously you disagree. If someone is able to access my information, they’d see documents and reports from your parents’ death.”

No longer was peripheral vision enough; Tony turned to stare incredulously at his ex-wife. “What possible business of
yours
is my parents’ death?”

“I suppose that before, it was morbid curiosity. I wanted to know if you were truly capable of hurting your own parents. Now, however…” She hesitated and sat straighter, defiantly. “…now, it is very much my business. I need to know about
my
child’s family history.”

He exhaled, releasing some of the stress upon the leather wheel. “I suppose that’s true.” He paused. “I didn’t harm my parents.”

Claire reached out and covered Tony’s hand, a simple touch that reassured him more than words. “I know that now. I’ve known for a while. It wasn’t you—it was the woman in a blue Honda.”

His newfound calm disappeared. Before he could process, Claire continued. “Whoever that woman is, you’ve been protecting her for years.”

“Protecting her?”

“Yes, whoever she is, you’ve kept her secret secure.”

Tony struggled with Claire’s knowledge.
How could she have learned about Catherine’s car?
That information, as well as eyewitness accounts, had been disposed of years ago.
Could he now tell her the truth?
After all, Catherine had opened his secret world when she mailed that damn box. Should he return the favor? First and foremost, he needed to get her laptop back and discover who took it. “So all of this is on your laptop?”

Claire nodded. “Yes.”

He contemplated her return flight. No doubt she’d be upset that he’d cancelled her flight; perhaps he could make her think it was her idea. “I want you to seriously reconsider your return to California. The estate is much safer and more secure than a condominium that has already been broken into.”

Her petite hand once again made contact. Reaching for his knee, she explained, “I’ve had a wonderful time. Please don’t ruin it. Let’s just take all of this one day at a time? I’d like to think about tonight now and tomorrow later.”

Tony didn’t argue. It wouldn’t matter; she no longer had a seat on the commercial flight. When they reached the estate, Tony opened Claire’s door and took her hand. She’d said she wanted to concentrate on tonight. So did he. Even without the airline ticket, Tony doubted he’d be able to convince her to stay an extra night, week, or month—that left tonight. Gazing into her emerald eyes, he touched his lips to the top of the hand resting within his. Silently, they walked hand in hand into the house. At the base of the grand staircase, Tony whispered, “I suppose this is good-night?”

She stretched her toes allowing her lips to linger on his. When she pulled away, she suckled his neck, just above his perfectly starched collar. Tony’s grasp of her small waist tightened as he pulled her hips toward his and a low groan escaped his clenched teeth. “That’s up to you,” Claire purred. “I don’t plan on using that lock.”

With their fingers entwined, they made their way toward her suite. He wanted what was beyond that door, what they’d done in that room hundreds of times. However, if he didn’t tell her about the ticket, was that lying? He began to confess, “There’s more for us to discuss—”

Claire’s finger reached out and covered his mouth. He pressed his lips together and watched as desire and determination swirled before him, creating a beautiful, blazing emerald fire. It wasn’t sparked by anger, but yearning. He’d seen it before and knew it was being reciprocated in his gaze. Slowly, below her touch, the tips of his lips moved upward. She whispered, “Tonight is about us, noncharade, nonperformance. If you want something different, go downstairs.”

She wanted control; he’d allow some. They wouldn’t discuss her return flight, her computer, or his history. Instead, they’d continue their reunification within the walls of their shared history. It was a room that contained memories—both good and bad—of domination and consent, and of lust and love.

Love? Tony couldn’t believe it was real, yet it was. He’d never wanted love.
Why would he?
He wasn’t even sure it existed, until her—the woman once again willingly beneath him. Their roles were redefined: Tony no longer desired domination, and Claire wasn’t submitting. She was an active, willing participant, capable of accommodating his needs as well as voicing her own. Her beautiful eyes saw into his soul, and her petite body dominated his thoughts. Despite all of his mistakes and manipulation, Tony was once again where he longed to be.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Each moment was an internal battle. Instinctively, he wanted to control Claire and limit her access to his past and his heart; however, Tony knew it was too late. She’d already managed to unearth emotions he never knew existed, and now they had a child coming. Despite his power slipping through his fingers, when Claire opened her eyes and Tony saw the shimmering emerald irises glow and her lips form a smile—he no longer cared. Within the copper walls and satin drapes of Claire’s suite, it was only the two of them—and that was all they needed.

The next morning when Tony woke, he didn’t slip from bed as he’d done in the past. He lingered, enjoying the warmth of Claire’s body against his side, the sweet smell of perfume that whiffed from her hair, and the soft tickle of her breaths across his chest. Everything within him wanted to wake her and repeat last night’s activities; however, the entire weekend had gone too well. He didn’t want to push her any further than she was willing to go. With their relationship still undefined, Tony forced himself from her bed.

Once within his office, it didn’t take long for the knock and opening of the door. Catherine entered silently, not waiting for an invitation. “Tell me, how was the wedding? You haven’t said much of anything since she arrived.”

Tony ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to share any of the weekend with anyone except Claire. Exhaling, he opted to pacify. “The wedding was nice. What more do you want?”

“I don’t know, perhaps how she was received? How she did? I’ve seen pictures from the wedding on the Internet. Did you know they were being taken?”

He shrugged. “I saw some people snapping pictures, and I don’t care. It’s time people see her with me and not him.”

Catherine sat, perched forward on the edge of the chair. “Anton-thony, are you positive this is what you want? I mean, she was unsure at first. What if she leaves and doesn’t come back?”

Tony shook his head. “She won’t. She left to go out with Sue and came back.”

“So, you trust her to leave today and return?”

He exhaled. “I think I’ve answered that.”

Catherine lowered her gray gaze. Peering upward she proclaimed, “I’m proud of you.”

His brow arched. “Why?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d be able to forgive her after everything she did, but once again, you’ve proved me wrong.”

“It’s more complicated than you know—and I want it to work.”

She patted his hand. “I can tell you do. Of course it’s complicated—she’s a Nichols.”

Tony glared. “We agreed that was done.”

“Yes, of course, it was. It is,” she corrected. “That doesn’t change her last name. Certainly that’ll always be in the back of your mind. Is that why it’s complicated?”

“Believe it or not, it isn’t and it won’t be. If I have my way, her last name will be
Rawlings
again one day, hopefully sooner rather than later.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you happy, but you know as well as I that she can never share your real name. Besides, aren’t you rushing things?”

“She can and she did. Rawls is gone. I’ve resigned myself to that and you need to also. My name is Rawlings and she’ll have that name again.”

“You seem very sure of yourself. So why is it so complicated?”

Tony debated his answer. “Do you remember me telling you that Claire had been doing some detective work?”

Catherine nodded.

“Well, she knows about the blue Honda.”

Catherine gasped, “That’s impossible—how?”

“I don’t know, but she knows that there was a woman.”

“And…?” she probed.

“If she knows your identity, she hasn’t shared.”

Catherine ran her hands up and down her thighs rubbing the smooth fabric of her slacks. “How is that even possible?”

“You started it with your delivery. I’m not going to tell her, but if she learns, you only have yourself to blame.”

“B-but that’s not true. I didn’t send any information to lead her in that direction. It was all meant as a way for her to understand
you
.” Catherine stared pleadingly. “And it’s worked. Look how well it’s worked.”

“I’m not going to debate your motive or even the outcome. You know as well as I that it could have gone much differently. Claire isn’t the problem; it’s that her laptop has been stolen and is in the hands of some burglar who now has access to our family history.”

Catherine paced the length of his desk. “What are you going to do?”

“Anything I can,” his baritone voice hardened. “I will get that damn laptop back and find out who stole it and why.”

“Do you think Claire knows?”

He leaned forward. “Catherine, she knows that my parents were killed. She said she believed me that I wasn’t responsible, that it was a woman in a blue Honda. If anything, she sounded more sympathetic than judgmental.”

Catherine’s shoulders straightened as she hummed through tightly pursed lips.

This was why Tony didn’t want to have this discussion. Whenever his parents were mentioned, even after all of these years, Catherine’s stance hardened. “It is time to let it go,” he reminded her.

“You’re telling me that Claire is on the verge of learning information that could land us both in prison, and I should feel good about it?”

“I’m telling you that I won’t tell her. It’s a secret we’ve kept this long, and I believe if she ever does learn the truth, she’s trustworthy.”

“I hope you’re right. Please find that laptop.”

Tony nodded. “I have people working on it. Now, if you don’t mind.” He gestured toward the door.

“It’s good to see you happy. I hope she doesn’t disappoint you—again.”

As Catherine left the office and closed the door, Tony contemplated her comment. He didn’t want to be disappointed; however, more than that, he didn’t want to disappoint. It wasn’t only Claire, but also their child. He wanted to believe that if he continued to keep his word, show Claire how important she was, and how much they belonged together, then they could avoid disappointing one another.

There was a time, long ago, when they’d had a different mutual agreement. He’d promised to not hurt her again, if she promised to follow his rules. In many ways it was the same; however, the rules were different and so was the pain. After experiencing her accident and the aftermath, Tony truly didn’t want it to happen again. Now that the threat was no longer physical, perhaps the new fear was greater. Never, even when they were married, had he wanted to allow her access to the real man behind Anthony Rawlings. Tony didn’t know if it was the child or her newfound strength, but regardless of the reason, he wanted to share. That desire incited a fear deep within him as he’d never known.
Was this what it was like to truly love someone? Did it mean more than a promise of obedience and togetherness? Did it also mean allowing yourself to be vulnerable?

Later in the morning, while reviewing emails, the door to Tony’s office burst open. There was no knock, no request, just a very determined Claire as displeasure emanated from her very being, setting the mood of the room before she ever uttered a word. “Tony, what the hell have you done?”