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Authors: Antoinette Chauvet

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BOOK: The Seduction Of Claudia
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They endured the rest of the drive to Boston with angry silence thick between them. Claudia continued to mentally flagellate herself with a litany of would have's and should have's. Damn it! She had landed herself in the very position she had always tried to avoid. She had ceded power to Andrew; he held her future in his hands, though he didn't realize it. She had been bewitched and besotted, had relaxed her guard, allowed herself to finally feel, allowed him to matter to her. Now he had the power to destroy her.

The knowledge that Andrew had grown up with her father made her feel sick; she wanted to get away from him as fast as possible. She knew that it was jealousy that made her gorge rise. She was most definitely jealous and resentful of the role he had played in her father's life, a role that rightfully should have been hers. She didn't know what to say or how to act with Andrew now; looking at him was a cruel reminder of how different they were. He'd had everything she had coveted while growing up. Including the love of her father. She didn't know what would happen once they reached her apartment. I hope he doesn't want to spend the night. I don't think I could stand it if he wanted to make love... she worried sadly. I'll just ask him to leave, she thought, surely he'd have no objection if I told him I was tired or not feeling well. It's my house after all – only I decide who I want to entertain!

To her surprise, Andrew headed for his place upon exiting the highway for the surface streets of the city. Claudia bristled in her seat, even less sure how to handle him now.

"Andrew, please take me to my place."

"No."

"Do you honestly believe that your refusal to take me home will stop me from going?" she asked incredulously.

"I can be just as stubborn as you. So... Yes, I do think you won't be going home," he answered flatly.

"You... you... Ass!" she shot back. How dare he even think that he could control her!I'll fix him, she thought, puffed up with righteous anger, I'll grab my things and be walking home as soon as the car stops... I'll be gone before he even realizes it... The bastard!

Andrew pulled into the garage of his building and got out of the car. Claudia jumped out of the passenger side before he could come around and open the door for her as he customarily did. He gave her a long, speaking look as he rounded the back end of the car and found that she had already alighted. Shaking his head, he turned, opened the trunk and began removing their belongings. Claudia stepped right up and began grabbing for her bags.

"I think I'll just walk home now," she said coolly, trying to balance the garment bag that held her party dress, the doggie bag of Christmas leftovers Maggie had given her, her purse and overnight case. The few blocks to her apartment would seem interminable with all the stuff she carried.

"I don't think so. Give me some of that," he said, reaching out to relieve her of some of what she carried.

"No, Andrew! I want to go home. I... I can't be with you right now!" panic tinged her voice.

"That's good, Claudia. Run away from the fact that we had an argument... You're good at running and hiding, aren't you?" he taunted.

"Goddamn it, Andrew! That's not fair!"

"It's not fair, either, that you're trying to make a federal case out of a simple misunderstanding – tarring and feathering Paddy before you've had a chance to know him! You're overreacting to this whole situation. You act as though you've been mortally wounded!"

"Maybe I have been!" she retorted through gritted teeth, because she felt she had been wounded. At the very least, an old, deep wound had been reopened. She needed to be alone so that she could try to construct a protective barrier over it in order to prevent further injury.

"Don't be ridiculous. You are driving me crazy with this 'woe is me' routine!" Fed up, he threw the things he'd been gathering back into the trunk. He then reached out and grabbed all of the items she held in her hands, threw them haphazardly on top of the heap and slammed the trunk shut.

"What are you doing? My purse is in there – my house keys!" Claudia spluttered, outraged.

"Go inside," Andrew said, pointing to the door that led to the lobby.

"No! Give. Me. My. Things. Now!" she gritted out, stomping her foot for emphasis.

Grabbing her by her upper arm, Andrew yanked her into motion. His grip was firm, but not at all painful until Claudia tried to jerk herself free.

"Ow, you're hurting me!"

"No, I'm not. Stop trying to fight me and it won't hurt. You won't win," his demeanor was implacable, as was his hold on her arm.

Claudia gave an extra pull on her arm just to see if she could break away, but found she couldn't. She winced as she felt his hard fingers tighten on her arm. She yanked at her arm again and dug her heels in, using her weight as leverage against him.

"Let me go!" she ground out furiously. "You don't own me – you can't just drag me around like a dog on a leash!"

Despite her frantic attempts to get free, Andrew held on to her with ridiculous ease.

Looking pointedly at the hold he had on her arm, he said, "I beg to differ. Besides, I may not own you now, but after tonight... You will be mine – lock, stock and barrel."

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

"I may not own you now, but after tonight... You will be mine – lock, stock and barrel," Andrew had said just before dragging her the remaining few feet to the vestibule that led to the lobby of his building.

Claudia was stunned, had no ready response to his words and thus let herself be pulled along by him. What had he meant? What was he planning? She knew that Andrew's temper could be formidable when fully aroused. She had heard him flay the skin off of his agent once and had offered thanks heavenward that she hadn't been the recipient of the sharp edge of his angry tongue. She didn't think she would be so lucky this time.

They were through the lobby door and inside the elevator before she knew it. They endured the elevator ride in silence, Andrew's fingers still wrapped around her arm. Claudia's mind raced, wondering what he had meant by what he'd said. ...after tonight, you'll be mine lock, stock and barrel. A shiver, an odd mixture of foreboding and excitement, ran up and down her spine when she replayed the words in her mind.

They reached his floor and stepped out into the hallway. When they reached the door to his apartment, she yanked experimentally on her arm. He let go of her, but only because he had to fit his key into the lock and he gave her a look to let her know just that. Now that they were on his floor, Claudia knew that she was as good as trapped, because the elevator required a resident's key in order to be operated, and in any case, she couldn't go home because her house keys were locked in the trunk of Andrew's car. She had thought of hailing a taxi and fleeing to Fifi's house, but Fifi was out of town. Her purse was in Andrew's trunk, too; she didn't have so much as a nickel in her pockets to pay a taxi fare.

Having unlocked and opened the door, Andrew gestured her inside with a grand sweep of his hand that dripped sarcasm. Claudia stalked in, took off her coat and draped it over the arm of the couch. Pacing back and forth furiously, she narrowed her eyes and said,

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

In stony silence, Andrew removed his coat and hung it in the coat closet without answering her. He retrieved her coat from the arm of the couch and hung it in the coat closet, too.

"Take off your clothes."

"Have you lost your mind?" Claudia shrilled.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes," the command was repeated softly and slowly as he moved to the chair facing her and sat down.

"No, Andrew, I will not 'take off my clothes'," she said hotly. In typical Gallic fashion, she was gesturing wildly as she spoke. Normally, she kept what she thought of as emotional excesses, which included wild gesticulations, under wraps. Now, however, her temper was inflamed and she continued, "I don't want to be naked around you! Hell, even dressed, I don't want to be around you!And – newsflash, Andrew – despite the opinion of your friend Patrick Gates, I'm not some slave that you can command to do your will!"

"Take off your clothes or I will take them off myself." If she didn't believe the words, the threat was backed up by the look in his eyes. He wasn't joking; she could see that he wouldn't accept anything but her obedience to his command.

Claudia shivered again, unsettled and not entirely sure she liked the predicament in which she suddenly found herself. Andrew had never behaved this way before. At least not with her. They'd had arguments before and she knew how to deal with him, knew what to expect when his eyes fired sparks at her. But this... This was different. The implacable set of his jaw was typical of Andrew when he was angry, but his eyes... They weren't shooting fire; they were cold and hard, shuttered against the probing of her own eyes as she tried to determine what he was thinking. His face was utterly immobile, no expression marking it whatsoever. He was just too silent and that unnerved her.

Should I be frightened of him? No... I don't think – no – I know he'd never hurt me,she thought. But take off her clothes? Why? What was he going to do? Unbidden, she felt a quiver of arousal low in her stomach as her thoughts quickly flashed across all the possibilities if she complied with his command. Arousal notwithstanding, she didn't relish the idea of the vulnerability nudity would bring. Not when Andrew was in this frame of mind.

If he wanted a fight, he would damned sure get one, Claudia decided. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, bristling with anger and myriad other pent up emotions. Her mind was reeling after the meeting with her father and frankly, this situation with Andrew was the very last thing she wanted to deal with tonight.

"It's simple, babe," Andrew said, making the term of endearment sound like an epithet. "All you have to do is get naked and everything will be OK. Make this easy for us both, huh?"

"Fuck you, Andrew!" she blazed, jabbing her finger at him. "Just fuck off. You must be out of your mind to pull a stunt like this tonight. Tonight of all nights! How dare you defend that- that- creepy, jerk asshole Patrick Gates!"

"Claudia, don't push me. This has nothing to do with Paddy. What this is about is the fact that you want to run away just because we've had an argument. I'm not inclined to let you."

"Your inclinations don't give you the right to kidnap me!"

"I'm not kidnapping anyone, never mind the fact that you're acting like a kid."

"I am not being childish. You're being blockheaded and stubborn; you refuse to even consider my point of view regarding Gates! You'd defend the man until death without knowing all the facts!"

Claudia broke off abruptly, realizing she had said too much. She didn't want Andrew to know that Gates was her biological father. She knew she could never withstand the agony, the heartbreak, if Andrew knew about Gates and chose him over her. In order to save herself, she was determined to end the relationship and go on with her life.

"What facts are you talking about? I am the only one in this room who does know the facts about Paddy – I grew up with the guy! You, on the other hand, know nothing about him and you've made up your mind to hate him after ninety seconds of conversation!" Andrew exclaimed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He'd gotten up from his chair and was pacing back and forth, crossing paths with Claudia as she paced.

"I don't expect you to understand and I can't even tell you exactly what this is about." It's easier to sprinkle in a little bit of truth, Claudia thought, I truly can't tell Andrew the truth about why I have an aversion to Gates, but it can't hurt to let him think that I'm at a loss for words to explain my reaction to him.

"If you can't figure out why you don't like him, don't you think you should give him a second chance?"

"No, Andrew! I can't do that. You have to trust my instincts on this one. My conscience is screaming at me 'stay away from Patrick Gates'!"

"That's ridiculous. You never cease to amaze me! You're brilliant at producing cockamamie reasons to wall yourself off out of thin air!" Andrew said, snapping his fingers. He continued in a mocking, singsong voice, "Poor Claudia has a fuckingfeeling – an unfounded feeling - about something, for Christ's sake, so now she has to protect herself!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about! You have no idea what I've been through in my life. You can't even begin to comprehend the burdens I carry, what it was like for me growing up! If I have to build a wall to protect myself from people like Patrick Gates, you're damned right I'll do it!"

"You're right. I don't know about that stuff, because half the time you're guarding yourself from me! You withhold things from me – don't think I can't tell when you're doing it," he accused.

"I have a right to my privacy. You can't get inside my head, Andrew! My God, just give me some space!"

"You've got way too much space already, as far as I'm concerned, living in isolation like you do. When are you going to wake up and realize that commitment isn't the big bad wolf you've made it out to be? You're too scared commit to anything or anyone because you're afraid of being hurt! Who do you think you are to check out of life the way you do? What gives you the right? How is that fair to the people in your life?"

He came face to face with her, searched her face to judge her reaction. She was visibly upset, but he sensed that she had shut down and that she wasn't hearing what he said to her. He was more frustrated with her than angry, at this point. He needed to make her know that, no matter what they fought about or how explosive the fight, there was no need to run away from him. He hadn't told her he loved her yet, because he knew she would flee. Her preconceived notions about love and commitment were deeply ingrained and it would take a lot of slow, careful work to get through to her.

"When are you going to let go of the past?" he continued. "Can't you just live life day to day like the rest of us?! Learn how to cope with the shitty cards life deals like everybody else? We've talked about this a million times before, but you don't even try, Claudia!"

"I do try!" she cried. "I do! I don't want to do this anymore, Andrew. I want to go home."

"Too bad. You're not going! You're going to stay here and finish this!"

"It is finished! I don't want to fight with you. I'm exhausted... this is too much for me right now," she said, her voice laden with weariness.

"Fine, but you're still not leaving. There's still the small matter of the clothes you're wearing."

"You're crazy! I already told you – I will not take off my clothes! What part of that can't you understand? How can you even think sex is a possibility for us tonight?"

"I asked you to take off your clothes; I didn't say anything about sex. This isn't about sex for me."

"Well then why do I need to undress?"

"Because, Legs, if you're naked, you have to trust me. If you're naked, you can't go anywhere. And, if you're naked, I can see all of my favorite parts of you," he finished with a quirk of his lips and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Claudia groaned in frustration. "Stop it. I'm being serious, Andrew. I really need to go home."

"And I told you that you're not leaving. Quit being so stubborn."

"You can't make me do anything I choose not to do!" Claudia was getting angry again. "I am my own person – I, and only I, decide what happens to me!"

"You're right. You can decide to take your clothes off on your own. Or... You can decide that you'd rather me do it for you. As you said, the choice is yours..."

"What kind of choices are those?" a note of despair crept into her voice. Hardening her tone, she said, "And you forgot the third choice, by the way. It's the one where I put on my coat, get my things from the trunk of your car and go home. Alone."

"Not gonna happen."

"Why are you doing this? It makes no sense, " Claudia tried to reason with him. "If I take off my clothes, you have to know that it would be against my will. What would be the point? What would you get out of it other than proving to yourself that you're physically stronger than me?"

Andrew walked toward her, signaling that her arguments, her resistance to complying with his request, had taken more time than he was willing to allow. He was done listening. In an attempt to forestall him, Claudia held a hand up.

"Wait," she said, backing away from him. "You can't do this, Andrew!"

"I can," his eyes were hot with determination as he prowled toward her. She continued to back away from him, not realizing that he was pursuing her further into his lair. He angled his body so that she would be backed into a corner; at a certain point, her only chance of escape would be up the stairs. To his loft bedroom.

"Y-you're the one who's blowing things out of proportion, now. You accused me of the same thing earlier, but now you're the one overreacting!"

He didn't reply, but continued to prowl. Ok, so reason hadn't worked, she thought,time to attack.

"What are you going to do, Andrew? Rape me? Because that's what it will be!"

"No, Claudia, rape will have nothing to do with what will happen when you get upstairs."

Calm and deliberation marked his tone. A frisson of alarm skittered through her when she darted a glance over her shoulder and saw that she had no place to go but up the stairs. She made a desperate attempt to duck past him, but he stuck his arm out and hooked her around her waist.

She resisted, made her body a dead weight and dropped to the ground, planning to slip under his arm so she could scramble away from him. He held her easily. He dragged her to him, caught hold of her wrists and pinned both of them behind her with one of his hands. The other hand came up to her face, cupped her chin firmly and looked into her eyes.

"You can walk up those stairs, or I'll carry you," he said softly.

Claudia's chest was heaving as though she had run a marathon. He looked into her eyes and saw a flicker of fright and uncertainty. Then came anger. That's good, Andrew thought, preferring that she be angry rather than afraid of him. She kicked out at him, hitting him in the shins. He bent and scooped her over his shoulder in a firefighter's hold. She kicked and pounded his back, cursing, threatening, trying anything and everything to be free of him. He headed up the staircase as though he carried an inanimate object, instead of a furious, struggling woman.

He reached the top of the stairs, went directly to his wide cushy bed and dumped her in the center of it. As she slid from his shoulder, he gripped the bottom of her sweater and peeled it off of her, using the downward motion of her body as she fell to the bed to aid him. When she realized what had happened, she flew at him like a wildcat.

He was ready for her attack and pushed her back on the bed. He climbed on top of her, straddling her thighs so she couldn't kick him. He managed to capture her hands where they pummeled ineffectually at his body, dragged them above her head and held them there. Her green eyes flashed as she twisted and bucked, trying to throw him off of her. She spewed venomous, hateful words at him, words that, had he stopped to listen, would have shocked him to hear her say.

He ignored her. Still holding her arms above her head, he trailed his free hand down the middle of her chest, traced the inner curve of each breast. Goose bumps rose on her body and her nipples peaked. He cupped one breast, lowered his head to take the nipple into his mouth, sucking and laving, grazing it with his teeth through the thin material of her bra.

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