Текст книги "Consequences"
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 36 страниц)
Instead of sleeping to get energy, Claire began moving. First she walked around the house, then swam in the indoor pool and enjoyed the hot tub. She even ventured to the theater room and made herself watch a movie. It was a musical, “Hairspray” with John Travolta. She smiled. It was her first trip to the theater room since Tony had taken her there.
Monday evening they flew to New York watching the sky grow dark as they headed east. Eric drove them directly to Tony’s apartment, and Jan waited for their arrival with dinner. From the spectacular view of the seventy-sixth floor the city vibrantly glistened with lights and activity. They ate in the dining room and watched little cars drive on busy little streets far below.
That night, exhausted from traveling, they settled into Tony’s bed and he handed Claire a black velvet box. Her shoulders slumped. “Tony, please stop. No more black velvet boxes. I have plenty of jewelry. I love it all, but I don’t need it. I feel bad about you spending all this money on me.”
“Well, first, if you haven’t noticed, money isn’t an issue. And what good is money if it doesn’t buy the things I want? Besides, this is a special gift.” Claire raised her eyebrows.
He continued, “Somehow, with all that happened in the past two months, I made an awful mistake.” Claire feared he was talking about the accident again. “I realized it when I was getting you your ID and credit card.”
Now she knew what he meant. He’d missed her birthday. “It’s all right. I’ve received plenty of gifts lately.” She tried to give him back the box.
“No,” he declared adamantly. “It is not all right. You had a birthday, your twenty-seventh, on October 17.” He firmly yet tenderly held her hands with the box in them while his tone softened. “The other gifts were because of your accomplishments.” And your guilt, Claire wanted to add. “This one is for your birthday.” She looked helplessly at the box. He continued, “Okay, I am a cheapskate.” And with a frisky grin, “I am regifting, again.”
Looking at the box Claire pondered the possibilities of his regifting. Her eyes opened wide. She lifted the velvet lid to reveal her grandmother’s necklace. It looked perfect, absolutely no evidence of the accident it had endured. She beamed at Tony, closed the box, and put it on the bedside stand.
Scooting close to him, resting her head on his chest, her green eyes gleamed with moisture. “I think you are doing a great job of enticing me to feeling better. I wonder sometimes how I got here.” The fatigue made her head pound. She closed her eyes, the moisture escaped as tears onto Tony’s chest. Her shields were down and mask gone. “I know I am here because you own me and my debt. Sometimes I feel that way, but other times you make me feel special.” She nuzzled into his warm side. Her words slowed, fatigue was prevailing. “I don’t know anymore if you are using me or if you care about me. I know what I hope.”
He listened to her. Her words ran together but she continued, “I want you to know it didn’t start this way, but, Tony, I am willing to do what you ask, not because of my debt but because I want you to be happy.” She couldn’t give him gifts in black velvet boxes. She could only give herself.
He kissed her hair, tasting her scent mixed with hairspray and perfume. He held her soft body against his. “Thank you for making me happy.” Caressing her silky shoulder, he wanted her, all of her.
“Thank you for helping my necklace too.” She fell asleep with her head on his chest, her breathing rhythmic and even.
“God help me, I do care about you.” Gently hugging her against his chest, he tenderly moved her hair away from her angelic face. Seeing her sleep, peaceful and trusting, his thoughts of waking her for his desires were quickly replaced. He held her close, closed his eyes, and joined her in sleep.
Love comforteth like sunshine after rain. —William Shakespeare
Chapter 24
Tuesday morning bustled with activity. Tony left early for meetings. Eric chauffeured Claire to a spa appointment for a highlight treatment. During the two months since her last appointment, she’d barely ventured outside. She needed sun and blonde to maintain her hair. The sun wasn’t going to happen, but the blonde could.
Claire agreed to a hair appointment and a manicure but declined other services. The idea of having a massage, someone touching her, made her very uncomfortable. Afterward she had Eric take her back to the apartment, where she rested until Tony returned in the evening. He told her that they had plans for the following evening. He also asked if she went shopping. She had not. Her head ached and was too tired. The answers didn’t please him, but he didn’t complain or argue.
Wednesday late afternoon Claire prepared for their plans. She didn’t know what they were or where they were going, only to be ready by five. The night before Tony looked through the closet inspecting the clothes Catherine had packed. After only brief scrutiny, Tony announced that nothing she had brought would do for their plans. He wanted her to wear something special, something she chose, and everything brand-new.
It took her the better part of the day. She left the apartment early in the morning and visited Manhattan, Soho, and the Upper East Side. All of her work paid off, she’d done it. Actually, she’d gotten her new outfit and a few more things. Due to her post accident leaner body she decided some new slacks, jeans, and sweaters were in order. She refused to even calculate the total of her expenditures. Tony would know with a click of his computer, but she wasn’t concerned. He liked her to spend money. With Eric available to get her packages, the shopping thing was getting easier.
Her new outfit consisted of a black one-shouldered silk crepe dress with a long-sleeved overlay from a quaint little boutique in Soho. The Valentino bow pumps were a perfect match from Nordstrom’s, and the Kate Spade shoulder bag and stretch wool long coat came from Saks. Due to the cool November temperature the associate recommended hosiery. When they showed her the thigh-high sheer hose, she knew she’d successfully followed Tony’s rules and covered her legs at the same time. Of the extra items she found, her favorite was a cashmere hoodie, dusty rose and amazingly soft. It would be perfect for snuggling up at home with a book on a cold winter day.
Something about the thought of home meaning Tony’s home perplexed Claire. She decided it was what it was. As he had put it, her actions in Chicago resulted in the consequence of needing him to keep her from having more accidents. It wasn’t up for debate. She also knew things could be considerably worse than snuggling with a book by the fire in her suite in her cashmere hoodie and some comfortable jeans. She did her best to compartmentalize. It made the fire, book, and hoodie all very pleasant.
Tony entered the bedroom as she wore a black silk robe and worked on her hair. She knew that during her recovery he only visited his district offices via Internet. He’d sent Timothy to do some of his bidding, but his presence had more influence. Some things needed to be dealt with in person. If his mood was any indication, the business dealings were going well.
He came up behind her and kissed her neck, igniting an immediate fire within her soul. Her busy day allowed only a short nap, but his kiss sparked her to full alert. Her hair was pinned up and she was curling the ends.
“Good evening, Claire. I trust you were successful with your shopping endeavors today?” She happily informed him that she’d done very well, even finding some extra items. His grin showed his approval. “I can’t wait to see tonight’s ensemble.”
He went to the dressing room to prepare for his shower. Completely nude and ready to enter the steamy water, he paused to caress Claire’s skin. Reaching around her he worked his hands under her flimsy robe. “Do you think joining me in the shower would be detrimental to your hair and makeup?” He nuzzled her neck.
She could smell his intoxicating scent. His chin’s stubble triggered goose bumps on her arms and legs. “I think it would.” Her voice resonated unconvincingly.
“Then perhaps we should plan it for another time?” His hands didn’t obey his words.
“Or . . . we could postpone your plans?” Claire’s eyes closed, head tilted against his chest, and hands massaged his strong arms. She turned to face him. He was visibly glad to be near her.
His voice gravely and low, he said, “Oh god, I want to, but we have plenty of time for that. Tonight I have special plans for you.” He gently pulled away from her. “And so far you look amazing. I believe I like your outfit now better than the one you bought.”
Claire flashed a modest smile accompanied by blushed cheeks. He’d removed the robe. “It is November. I believe I may get cold as we walk the streets of New York,” her voice reflected Tony’s playfulness.
“Perhaps, but if I have anything to do with it, cold is not what you would be feeling.” He left her for the shower. It amazed her how he could flip a switch that immediately sent her entire body into mayhem. She concentrated on breathing, replaced her robe, and went back to her hair. Her mind, however, was in the next room thinking about Tony’s steamy shower and slippery soap suds.
Claire wore her hosiery and dress when Tony reentered the bedroom. His gaze lingered on her. “I think you look stunning.” His expression wasn’t in complete agreement. He approached her and lifted the hem of her dress, just high enough to expose the tops of the hosiery. His grin broadened. “My! What will they think of next? Very good.” He lightly kissed her lips. Claire smiled. He was so predictable; well, sometimes.
By the time they reached the front doors of the building Eric had the limousine warm and ready for their adventure. Once in the back of the car Claire asked Tony about their plans. He would only disclose that their first stop was dinner. The cold crisp night air formed crystals on the windows of the limousine, making the lights of the city shimmer. They seemed to flash rhythmically with intensity that mimicked the hum of music coming from the cabin’s speakers.
It didn’t take long, considering the traffic, to reach their destination—the Crown Plaza Hotel on Broadway, in the heart of New York’s theater district. Once inside Tony directed Claire to Brasserier 1605, a beautiful restaurant bustling with patrons. The hostess immediately ushered them to a romantic table with a stunning view of Time Square. The waiter seemed to know their timetable better than Claire, he provided exceptionally efficient service. Tony ordered a bottle of wine, approved a taste, and the waiter poured two glasses.
For their appetizer they enjoyed delicious grilled sea diver scallops with seared Atlantic salmon as their main course. Claire thought that everything tasted scrumptious. Along with other sensory organs recently reawakened, she had a newfound appreciation for food. She enjoyed the aroma as the plate appeared in front of her, the taste on her tongue, and the texture as she chewed. Tony watched happily as she delighted in each bite of her seafood.
His mood amused Claire. It seemed different, in a positive way. He talked excessively, yet not about anything in particular. She asked when they were going back to Iowa, and he said he did need to have a few meetings on Friday. So they could leave Friday night or wait until Saturday. Claire felt bad about not being with Catherine on Thanksgiving. She would love to be with John and Emily, but knew better than to ask. Catherine had become her closest family. She hoped that Catherine had someone to visit for the holiday.
He wouldn’t give hints about their next destination. Being in the Theater District, Claire guessed they were on their way to a show. Smiling, he refused to tell her which one.
After dinner Eric appeared to chauffeur them to the Broadhurst Theater. The title on the marquee read “The Merchant of Venice” with Al Pacino. Claire knew it was one of the hottest tickets in town. They, of course, had amazing seats. She’d never been a Shakespeare fan, yet she became completely engrossed in the play. By the time it ended she’d laughed and cried. The entire cast’s performances were riveting, taking her to another world for two hours and completely draining her with the range of sweeping emotions. She was ready to go back to the apartment.
Eric waited for them as they left the theater. Not surprisingly, Tony didn’t ask Claire if she wanted to go back or go out. She assumed they would be heading to the apartment, so when Eric went another direction she was surprised. They headed north to Fifty-ninth Street and Eric stopped at Seventh Avenue. They were at Central Park.
The cold crisp air awakened her as they moved from the warm limousine to the waiting horse-drawn carriage. The horseman was prepared for the brisk weather with blankets, and Eric supplied them mittens and scarves. They snuggled together under the blankets holding mittened hands and observed the beautiful park with lights lining the paths and illuminating some of the trees. The large strong horse pulled the carriage slowly and steadily around the eight hundred plus acres. The methodical trot rhythmically created a cadence for their dialogue. Their noses and cheeks reddened in the cool air as they cuddled, talked, and enjoyed the incredibly romantic setting.
Tony gently held Claire’s mittened hand and spoke honestly with love, “Claire, you know I have dated many women.” She said she had read about some. “There have been women who have wanted to date me solely for my money, and I admit to taking advantage of that in the past.” His honesty had her full attention. “You know that I am a private person. Truly there are few people who have seen the real me. There are all sorts of psychological reasons for why I am the way I am. They probably stem from childhood and traumas early in life. But the past is that, and the reasons don’t matter. What matters is that unlike many of my business associates or acquaintances, you have met the real me.” That thought made her feel slightly uneasy. “There are sides to me that need subduing. Honestly I have never cared to try, but I do now. And I believe it is possible.”
Then while tenderly holding her hand and looking into her eyes, he asked, “Claire, the other night you asked if I cared about you. Honestly, with our initial arrangement I never intended to. But without a doubt, I do. Do you care about me? Do you enjoy being with me?”
Claire considered her answer. Honesty was the best policy, no matter the consequence. “Tony, I do care about you. I want you to be happy, and I would do anything to help that happen. And on a night like tonight, or even a quiet night at home, I enjoy being with you. More than enjoy.” She smiled and her emerald eyes glistened in the cold air. “But honestly, there are times I don’t. There are times I want you away from me, or vice versa.” She maintained eye contact and she watched for his reaction.
He smiled, kissed her long and hard. She kissed back. “You are the most amazing woman. I have vice presidents, presidents, and chairmen of boards who have never experienced me as you have. None of them would have the courage to answer that question as honestly as you just did.” She exhaled. “It is your strength and determination that have infuriated me. That strength and resilience has also made me fall in love with you.”
Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a shock, but it was. He said that he loved her. He had her complete attention and yet her internal monologue almost drowned out his voice: Love, really? He just said he loves me? Do I love him?
“Claire, I experienced life without you while you were ill. I don’t want to do that again. But I want you to make your own decision. Tonight I would like to present you with two options: your freedom, you may leave tonight and your debt is paid; or . . .” he removed a diamond solitaire ring from his jacket pocket, “you could agree to marry me and spend the rest of your life with me, not out of obligation or because of a contractual agreement, but because you want to be with me.”
Her heart beat rapidly and her lungs momentarily forgot to breathe. She stared at Tony and at the ring. With only the illumination of the streetlamps she could see the brilliant solitaire diamond. It was surrounded by a delicate diamond border with additional diamonds on the platinum band. She’d never seen anything so beautiful, and Tony was offering it to her.
Her mind couldn’t stop spinning. She knew she should answer, speak, say something, but words failed her. He continued, “You told me yesterday no more black boxes, so I took it out of its box.” He grinned. “Could we see if it fits?”
Claire nodded yes, and extended her left hand. Tony smiled at her as he removed the fuzzy mitten and placed the ring on her fourth finger. She was suddenly glad she had agreed to a manicure. “It seems to fit.” Tony looked into her emerald eyes. “The question still seems to be unanswered. Do you want to keep it on and stay with me? Will you please be Claire Rawlings?”
She weighed her possibilities. He could be the most romantic man in the world. He was incredibly generous with his money, both to her for whatever she needed and others; thus: much philanthropic recognition. He was the most amazing lover. She’d never in her life experienced sensual highs like she had with him. He was the only person she could talk with freely. He knew all about her because he knew her private information. But that was the word that haunted her. But he could be dark, mean, cruel, controlling, and sadistic. He was the reason for that private information. “I . . . I am so surprised. Are you seriously asking me to marry you?”
He smiled. “Yes, this entire night has been leading to this proposal. I have watched you with me, in private and public, with my closest friends, and I want you there always. I love you.”
Again, internal debate: Love? He keeps using that word. Love, do I love him? I think I do. When did that happen? Oh my, Claire needed to think about this. The napkin thing happened too quickly, this needed contemplation. “Please let me think. I promise you an answer soon.”
He waited patiently. The carriage steadily moved through the cold crisp air. She saw her breath as she looked at her hand and at Tony. She thought about his patience as she healed from her injuries, about him risking public exposure with Dr. Leonard, about how he made her feel when she saw him walk into a room. Her contemplation took a while. They sat back in the carriage. She rested her head on his shoulder and thought. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t push. He held her hand.
She could decide to leave and do what? Go back to Atlanta. Did she still have an apartment? He waited. There was a side of him that frightened her, but the idea of living without him frightened her more. She needed him. He told her that. Most importantly, she loved him, she really did. Sometime during the last eight months he’d become her everything. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Finally, she answered, “God help me, yes. Tony, I will marry you. I love you too.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her tenderly. She laid her head back on his shoulder as the carriage continued through the park. Claire looked again at her left hand.
“If you don’t like the ring we can look at others. It is from Tiffany’s. We can go Friday and exchange it.”
“Oh no! I love the ring. Besides, you chose it. It is exquisite. I am just so surprised.” She thought of something. “Does Catherine know you were planning this?”
Tony said she suspected, but he hadn’t told anyone. He didn’t know her response. “I never go into a meeting that I don’t know the outcome of. I am always prepared for every situation. Tonight I wasn’t sure. You asked about your debt being paid a few months ago. I thought that perhaps you would take that option.” He leaned down to kiss her hair. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you didn’t. I know Catherine will be too.”
When the carriage arrived back at Seventh Avenue, Eric had the limousine warm and waiting. As Tony helped Claire down from the carriage and led her to the car, he told Eric, “My fiancée and I are ready to go back to the apartment.”
“Yes, sir. Congratulations, Mr. Rawlings, and to you too, Ms. Claire.”
That night after some of the most wonderful lovemaking Claire ever experienced, she began to consider the fact that she was getting married and that meant a wedding. “I don’t know how to plan a wedding to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“You know what I mean. This isn’t your everyday Indiana or Iowa wedding. You are Anthony Rawlings. We can’t go to dinner without photographers. A wedding will be a national spectator event.”
He chuckled. “My dear, that is what wedding coordinators and planners are for. We will hire the best. They will assist in everything.” That made her feel better. She wondered if the wedding was a catastrophe, wouldn’t that be a public failure? “By the way, how do you feel about a Christmas wedding?”
Her mind went into overdrive. “Christmas? As in four weeks from Friday?”
“I can’t wait any longer than that to have you be my wife, Mrs. Anthony Rawlings.”
She knew from experience his mind was made up. With queasiness deep in the pit of her stomach, she said, “I feel that you must hire the world’s best wedding coordinator and planner.”
Claire tried to sleep but the panic of planning a wedding in four weeks made her suffocate. She lay next to her fiancée and attempted to make sense of everything. Maybe she needed to compartmentalize, one thing at a time: wedding, reception, dress, and maid-of-honor. “I would like Emily to be my matron-of-honor.”
He was almost asleep. “We can discuss it tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night.”
