Authors: Helen Karol
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Teen & Young Adult, #Inspirational
Claire pushed open the glass doors of the kitchen with one hand, while balancing the tray of drinks with the other.
Placing the tray on the picnic table, she was just about to call everyone for refreshments, when instead her attention was caught by the scene in front of her.
Andrea and Stephen were down on the patio in front of the living room.
Andrea was lying on a lounger soaking up the sun, clothed in a flattering, one piece bathing suit. In striking contrast, Stephen sat beside her in a garden chair. His appearance made no concessions to the fact that sand and sea stretched immediately before them. He was fully clothed including a hat, and was completely shaded by a large table umbrella. Andrea had made sure he was comfortably settled under the latter, before throwing herself open to the mercies of the sun.
"Poor dear, you know how he tends to take sunstroke."
The inevitable pipe was in Stephen's mouth, although Claire suspected it had gone out in the breeze that blew up from the ocean. A fact that made little impression on Stephen, who was undoubtedly dozing. Further down on the beach, the couple's three grandchildren were engaged in building a sandcastle. Or rather, Marcie and her two male cousins were helping Julian build one. Over the pound of the surf, she could hear the excited high-pitched squeals of the children, interspersed with Julian's deep tones dispensing instructions.
The construction had progressed considerably since she had left them to fetch refreshments, and they were now filling the moat with sea-water.
Marcie and the boys ran backwards and forwards bringing pail after pail to empty into the channel Julian was digging around the castle
Marcie, in her excitement, became overzealous and splashed the contents of her pail over Julian.
He turned in mock ferocity, and to Marcie's delight, picked her up and threw her in the air. The other two noticed this preferential treatment and crowded in on him demanding equal rights. Laughing, Julian obliged.
Claire was no longer amazed by Julian's fondness for these children.
Since that first day at Long Beach, she had seen him with them fairly often, so his indulgence with them was now a familiar sight. Nevertheless, it was still a sight she found touching.
She called to them and the children came scampering over the sand, Julian following at a more leisurely pace.
After she had refereed the children's squabbles over who should get which glass, he carried the tray down to the patio. Andrea joined them around the shaded table, giving Stephen a good-natured poke. He immediately woke up and, mumbling apologies, accepted the glass of California cooler, which Claire passed to him. Andrea stretched and then asked Claire.
"What are you wearing to Caroline's party on Wednesday?"
Claire smiled. "I haven't decided yet, but no doubt another of my husband's romantic designs." She looked at Julian, teasing him with her eyes. "I think I'll look for a new one and another for the party on Thursday. I can get as many as I like now I don't have to pay for them."
Julian smiled back at her and then said.
"I'm surprised we were invited most people know I hardly go to a party in a month never mind two in a week."
Andrea answered him.
"That was different, Julian. Now you're married again it's only natural for you both to be invited to everything. And don't let him stop you from going Claire," she added supportively.
The children's voices coming from the deck interrupted the conversation, demanding Julian settle a dispute between them, which he did in a few sentences, and to their satisfaction.
"You're good with the children, Julian. It's really about time you had some of your own."
Andrea's remark was directed at Julian, but her gaze was pointedly directed at Claire. Claire felt herself blushing. Julian helped himself to a glass of the refreshing drink and then answered her.
"Mind your own business, Andrea.
I won't have you embarrassing my wife."
But the good-natured raillery in his tone and the smile on his lips belied the harshness of his words.
Andrea laughed and continued with her usual frankness.
"Well, it's not as if you're getting any younger.
How old are you now, thirty-seven?" Julian drained his glass and placed it firmly on the table.
"Thirty-six, plenty of time yet."
Taking Claire's hand he drew them both to their feet. "Come on, let's go for a swim."
Claire didn't waste a minute accepting his invitation, and they both ran plunging into the waves.
They swam out side by side for a few minutes, and then Claire could no longer see his dark head beside her. It was only seconds before she found out where he had gone. Her ankle was seized and she was pulled under into his arms, and her lips were brought to his. When he allowed her to surface, the buzzing in her ears could not be attributed to the pressure of the water alone. She had a glimpse of his dancing eyes and satisfied expression before he turned and swam back to shore.
Reaching him as he began to walk back to join Andrea and Stephen, she stepped in front of him.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she embraced him in an abandoned kiss. He seemed startled for a moment, and then, putting his arms around her, he took control of the kiss, changing it to a gentler one. Then she felt small hands at the back of her legs and heard determined pleadings to come and play.
When she and Julian parted there was an apologetic look on his face.
She, on the other hand; threw him a look of annoyance. When they returned to the sandcastle, which had been partially trampled by the children's dash to the shore, she helped repair it, absently.
Between Julian's controlled reserve and Richard's determined seduction, she was going quietly out of her mind.
Almost three weeks had passed since she had decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to never be alone with Richard. She had succeeded in that goal on all but one occasion. The occasion had been two days ago on Friday afternoon when she was returning to the office after lunch.
A number of people were moving in and out of the lobby and there was another woman waiting with Claire for the elevator, so when Richard joined her, she saw no danger in the situation.
However, as the elevator arrived, the woman was hailed by someone and she moved away, leaving Claire and Richard alone. It all happened so quickly that she had no time to think of opening the doors and stepping out before the car began to ascend.
"Alone at last, Claire,” the slow tilted smile was on his lips and there was a mocking light in his eyes.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you'd been avoiding me these past weeks."
He was facing her and his hands were on either side of her head imprisoning her in the same way he had a few weeks ago.
Her pulse was already into overtime and she could feel the familiar wildfire coursing through her body. She looked up at the moving light on the row of floors. It was just leaving five - fourteen more floors to go; maybe someone would call the elevator before then. But there was to be no escape.
Richard wasted no time.
His full sensual mouth covered hers, seizing and claiming it. She tried to pull away from him at first, but he only pulled her closer, his hand encircling her back, moulding her body against him. His other hand held the back of her neck keeping her lips where he wanted them.
The kiss went on and on, demanding and invading, sweeping away Claire's resistance until she was acquiescent in his arms.
Her surrender encouraged him to move his hands from holding her to roam possessively all over her body, firing her to an intense arousal, his own aroused body pressed intimately against her. He let her go just as the doors opened on their floor and Claire fell against the wall her breathing ragged, her cheeks and body hotly flushed.
"Don't tell me you can still delude yourself it's over between us after that."
His stance was confident, his smile smug, assured of victory. "So why don't you stop playing games."
He was so sure of himself that a vestige of Claire's resistance returned.
Lifting her hand, she slapped his face and then rushed from the elevator down the hall into the ladies room, uncaring of the spectacle she might present. She could hear Richard's low mocking laughter chasing her all the way. However, he might not have been so pleased with himself had he been privy to the thought that was reverberating in her mind.
If only Julian would kiss her like that.
But he never did.
Not that she didn't find his lovemaking enjoyable - she did.
His loving tenderness melted her heart, and his slow gentle caresses raised a sweet desire that always reached a satisfying conclusion. But lately, as she lay in his arms, as sleep claimed her, she would have the nagging feeling that something was eluding her. His loving was sweet, but it lacked abandon.
Since the time it had first occurred to her that she had never seen him angry, she had become increasingly aware of his control.
It was slowly dawning on Claire that despite the years she had known him there was still a part of himself he kept hidden - protected.
She told herself that their relationship had developed slowly and that all they needed was time.
But their relationship had also developed naturally and Claire couldn't help feeling there was something unnatural about Julian's reserve. As if it were held back, not because they had not reached a particular stage in their intimacy, but because he never intended that they should.
Why?
Because it was a part of himself that belonged to another woman? Claire told herself she was being foolish- that there was something macabre about being envious of a woman who had been dead for over eight years. But since the night she first began to wonder about Susanna, a fear had been growing in her that Julian would never love her as much as he had his late wife - that he would never allow himself to do so.
She had no outward indications of this.
Julian, when he spoke occasionally of Susanna, did so naturally and without constraint. Claire had no concrete evidence that he still mourned his first wife to the point that would not allow him to love her as much - only his reserve. But it was enough and Claire's suspicions were growing.
Added to this was her guilt over her attraction to Richard.
Did she have any right to expect Julian's unreserved love when she was still attracted to another man? Not that this could be the reason for Julian's behaviour; he didn't even know she was working with Richard. His ignorance of this fact was another problem that was reaching frightening proportions.
Every evening on the way home she would promise herself she would tell him; introduce it into the conversation easily and naturally.
But every time she would find herself veering away whenever a possible opening arose, terrified her guilt would show. However, by the middle of the following week, this was one problem that solved itself.
Richard was coming out of the darkroom when he saw the dark-haired man enter the writers' office.
He recognised Claire's husband almost immediately from Greg's photographs, and from the snapshot Claire displayed defiantly on her desk.
Grudgingly, he admitted to himself, neither did the man justice.
So what, his own power over Claire had nothing to do with perfection of features or physique. He walked down the hallway and entered the office that he knew, apart from Julian, was deserted.
"Can I help you?"
Julian put down the desk picture, a smile flitting around the corners of his mouth. The snapshot was a couple of years old, she must have taken it from one of his albums. The man before him was a stranger, but his question indicated he worked here. Funny, he thought Greg was the only male on the small staff.
"I'm looking for Claire.
I had to come downtown and thought, since I was in the vicinity, I might surprise her and take her for lunch." He smiled a little ruefully. "Unfortunately, I seem to have missed her."
"Yeh, she and Mary-Jane are out interviewing.
They'll probably have lunch before they come back." There was a slight pause before he continued. "You did mean, Claire Fitzpatrick?"
Julian straightened.
It was understandable. Claire had decided to continue using her maiden name on her by-line. The man's tone had been pleasant enough and there was nothing hostile in his blue regard. But Julian's instincts were finely honed. He knew an enemy when he met one.
"Claire West, actually," his tone was as pleasant as Richard's.
"I'm Julian West, her husband."
Richard gave a short laugh.
"Sorry, I knew she'd married, but I've always known her as Claire Fitzpatrick. Old habits die hard, I guess. I'm Richard Blake."
They did not shake hands and Julian accepted the apology with the insincerity it was made.
"Yes, well no doubt you'll get used to it."
The name meant nothing to him, not connecting Claire's previous confidences with the man in front of him.
It was at this point that Claire entered the office to find the two men taking one another's measure. It was a sight that filled her with consternation. Taken by surprise, she stopped short in the doorway causing Mary-Jane, who was chattering behind her, to collide with her immobile figure. As the younger woman was carrying a cup of soup, her exasperated exclamation was hardly surprising.