Claim

by Janet Nissenson

  “Oh, there he is. The table on the left towards the back.”

  Tessa gave a little wave in the direction of the table she’d indicated, then grasped Ian’s hand in hers and tugged him along in her wake. As they approached the table, Peter stood to greet them, and Ian was more than a little surprised at the obvious physical changes in the boy.

  But, no. He couldn’t really think of him that way any longer, could he? It seemed that being out on his own and seeing something of the world agreed with Peter, had helped to mature him into a man. He had filled out, no longer the skinny boy he’d been during his marriage to Tessa, and was wearing a neatly pressed pair of khaki slacks and a button down chambray shirt. He’d cut his hair into a short, close-cropped style, and appeared to be growing out a beard. Living in the Middle East had also put some much needed color in his formerly pale cheeks, and overall he looked more confident, happier, and more at peace with himself.

  Ian stood back a bit as Tessa and Peter embraced, but to his observant gaze the hug seemed casual, friendly, and not the least bit romantic in nature. Tessa was quick to grab his hand and urge him forward, and the way she beamed at him made him feel like a silly fool for ever having been jealous of her ex.

  “Ian, you remember Peter.”

  Ian nodded, extending his free hand across the table. “Yes, of course. A pleasure to see you again, Peter. I hope you’ve been enjoying your visit these last few days.”

  Peter shook his hand. “It’s been a nice change from the Middle East,” he acknowledged. “Though I swear I’ve been half-frozen since I got off the plane. I’m glad the conference wasn’t in Chicago or Denver, where it’s been snowing nonstop for weeks!”

  Ian had feared that the conversation over dinner would be stilted and more than a little awkward, but he was relieved to find that it was anything but. Peter was a gifted storyteller, and regaled Ian and Tessa with tales of his various travels through Egypt, Syria, Iran, and other areas in the Middle East where the political and social tensions often ran high. He obviously loved his work, despite the risks that living in that part of the world often entailed, and Ian realized that ending his marriage to Tessa had in fact set Peter free to pursue his dreams. The fact that their divorce had also greatly benefitted Ian was something he tactfully declined to mention this evening.

  While waiting for tea and dessert to be served, Tessa excused herself to use the ladies room, and Ian used the opportunity to speak freely to Peter.

  “I want you to know,” he began somewhat haltingly, “how much I admire you, Peter. Tessa’s told me very little about your life, but I know it was a difficult one. The pair of you were more or less orphans for a good part of your lives, forced to look out for yourselves. And you’ve both managed to make a good life for yourselves, to fight your way out of poverty and abuse. And,” he added soberly, “I especially admire you for everything you did for Tessa. Not many young men would have looked out for her that way, or put their own plans on hold to make sure she was taken care of.”

  Peter looked distinctly uncomfortable at this unexpected praise. “She helped me out, too,” he acknowledged. “Worked two or three jobs to help support us so that I could get my college degree. And she was just about the only friend I had for a long time. The only person I didn’t feel ill at ease with, or threatened by. After what I went through as a kid, it was hard for me to make friends or trust people. I kept to myself a lot, didn’t talk to people unless I had to. I know most everyone thought I was a weirdo or some sort of misfit, but Tessa never once made me feel that way.”

  He paused to take a sip of his water, a wistful smile on his face. “She was so damned pretty, Ian. Even at sixteen she was a knockout. Guys looked at her everywhere she went but it was like she didn’t even notice. She’d already been through so much by that point in her life that I think maybe she forgot she was still a teenager. Or didn’t know how to have fun and do all the things girls her age were expected to enjoy. I used to tease her all the time when she fussed over me, called her “Little Mother”. But it was flattering, too, because in all my life no one had ever looked out for me like Tess did.”

  Ian nodded, but oddly enough didn’t feel the slightest bit of jealousy at hearing this. “Tessa is a natural born mother,” he agreed. “She fusses over me as well. And it’s every bit as flattering to me as I’m sure it was to you, Peter.”

  Peter’s smile looked a little sad. “She will be a great mom one of these days. That is,” he added hastily, “assuming that you, uh, want kids.”

  Ian chuckled. “Yes, very much. But I also want Tessa all to myself for awhile before I have to share her with a baby. So the children will come, but just not right away.”

  “Good, good.” Peter looked relieved. “That’s one of several reasons why I ended our marriage when I did, you know. Considering the trauma I endured I’m not sure I’ll ever be emotionally stable enough to deal with parenthood. But Tess - well, she’s so warm and affectionate and loving that it would have been a crime for her not to have children. And seeing the two of you together, how much you care for each other - I know that you’ll be the kind of father her kids deserve.”

  “I hope so,” replied Ian quietly. “Though most days I’m not sure that I deserve Tessa. Look, one last thing before she returns. I’ll always be grateful to you for everything you did for Tessa - protecting her, marrying her to make sure she didn’t wind up in a bad situation. And, well, even for divorcing her when you did so that I could finally approach her. So I’d like to find a way of doing something for you in return, Peter.”

  Peter frowned. “You mean like money? No way would I ever agree to that, Ian. I looked out for Tess because it was the right thing to do, because I wanted to do it. I would never take money for helping out a friend in need.”

  “I know that,” Ian told him. “And I wasn’t planning to take out my checkbook. But I would like to offer you this, if it’s something that interests you. I have a very good friend from our university days - Roger Metcalfe - who is currently the head of the Associated Press office in London. I don’t know how long your current contract runs, or if you prefer to stay in the Middle East, but if you think you’d be interested in a change, I can arrange for you to meet Roger. The rest would be entirely up to you.”

  Peter’s eyes had widened at the mention of the worldwide, well renowned news agency. “The API?” he murmured in wonder. “That’s pretty much the top news agency in the world. And you could really get me an interview with the head of the European division? That’s pretty mind-boggling, Ian.”

  “It would be the simplest thing in the world to arrange,” he confirmed. “Just say the word. It’s the very least I can do to thank you.”

  “Wow.” Peter shook his head in disbelief. “Of course I’d be interested. At least, I would be when the time comes. My current contract is up in September, but I’ll need to decide by July at the latest if I’m going to re-sign with them. If I could talk to your friend at API sometime this spring I think that would be about the right timing.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Ian and Peter exchanged phone numbers and email addresses just as Tessa returned to the table, and the waiter arrived with their tea and dessert.

  She looked at Ian and then at Peter, and smiled. “Why do I feel that the two of you have been swapping secrets about me while I’ve been gone? Oh, God,” she wailed to Peter. “Please tell me you did not tell Ian about the first time I tried making meatloaf and almost burned the apartment down in the process.”

  Ian arched a brow. “He didn’t. But now that you’ve brought the subject up, Tessa, you know I’ll badger you until I hear the entire story.”

  Peter grinned. “I’d actually forgotten about that meatloaf. It took a whole day to clear the apartment of smoke. But, no. I wasn’t telling Ian about your early adventures in learning how to cook. What I was telling him,” he added gently, “was how happy I am for the two of you. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Tess, and I can se
e for myself how that’s worked out. I know how upset you were when I left for Bahrain, but I knew you’d never really be happy as long as we remained married. So I’m very glad to be proven right, because if I’d stayed you and Ian would have never been together. And that would have been a real misfortune, because I’ve never seen two people more in love with each other before.”

  Tessa reached across the table to give Peter a fierce hug, and whispered her thanks in a tearful voice. Meanwhile, Ian met Peter’s eyes and mouthed a silent “thank you” to him.

  And when Peter gave him a firm thumbs up, Ian knew that he would never need to worry about Tessa’s ex-husband ever again. He and Tessa had Peter’s blessing to be happy, and all was right with the world once again.

  Chapter Eleven

  February – Paris

  Ian ran a hand idly up and down the curve of Tessa’s bare hip, giving her buttock an occasional squeeze. He nuzzled his face against the nape of her neck, where her blonde hair was damp.

  “The French have a saying for this, you know,” he murmured in her ear. “They call it l’amour dans l’apres-midi.”

  Tessa uttered a low moan and buried her face in the pillows. “What does that mean?” she asked sleepily. “I hope it translates to nap time.”

  He laughed, his hand moving to caress her lower back, as his lips traced a path along the side of her throat. “Not quite. The actual translation is more like love in the afternoon.”

  She flipped onto her back, grinning up at him. “Except that it’s been more like love in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Not to mention all night long.”

  Ian returned her grin wickedly. “Complaining, love?”

  She shook her head. “Never. You know better than to ask something like that.” She winced as she tried to sit up. “Though it’s going to be a challenge to actually get up and walk. You’ve been especially - ah, passionate today.”

  He chuckled, then gave her a quick kiss. “I would tell you I’m sorry, but we both know that would be a lie.”

  Tessa sighed dramatically, falling back onto the mattress, her arms widespread. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to carry me everywhere then.”

  “Gladly,” he whispered, his hands gliding up the sides of her rib cage to cup her breasts. “You know you’ve got me enslaved, love. I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

  “Mmm. You mean besides having day long sexual marathons in the most romantic hotel room in all of Paris?” she laughed softly. “I suppose a nice hot shower and a little food would help keep our strength up, too. And you did promise we’d do a little more sightseeing today.”

  Ian nodded. “We have a late afternoon tour scheduled at The Louvre. So I suppose you’re right about getting dressed and having a light meal before we have to leave.”

  She pressed a kiss to the base of his throat, then snuggled close. “Okay. In five more minutes.”

  He ran his fingers through the long strands of her hair. “I’m not sure bringing you to Paris for four days was such a good idea after all. You’ve been very lazy since our arrival, love. Skipping your workout two days in a row.”

  Tessa stared at him slack-jawed. “You’re kidding, right? I might not have made it to the gym or a yoga studio since we arrived, but I’m guessing we’ve both burned up a few thousand calories with all of our, ah, physical activity.”

  He laughed heartily, pulling her on top of his body until they were nose to nose. “And it’s been a much more pleasurable way to burn calories than running on the treadmill or doing pull-ups, too.”

  She caressed his bare chest and abs, her lips following the same path down his body. Rather astonishingly, he realized he was quickly becoming aroused again, a feat he wouldn’t have dreamed possible considering how much sex he’d had over the past eighteen hours.

  Tessa snickered at the sight of his semi-hard cock, tracing a fingertip along its rapidly expanding length. “And you think I’m the insatiable one. Who’s being the greedy lover now?”

  Ian emitted a low groan, clamping his hand over her wrist as she began to stroke his willing but weary cock. “Obviously I’m not thinking with a certain part of my body at the moment. Because if I was it would understand that man cannot live by sex alone. We do need to eat, and then shower before we can leave for our tour. I can’t recall the last time we did either of those things, can you?”

  “Hmm,” mused Tessa. “I seem to recall having a pot of tea and some breakfast pastries earlier. As for the shower.” She wrinkled her nose. “Considering we both reek of sex, I’d say it was probably twenty-four hours ago.”

  “That settles it then,” he declared. “You go get the shower started and set out towels, while I call room service.”

  “Okay,” she yawned, stretching her arms wide as she sat up. She smirked at him knowingly as his gaze dropped to her bare breasts.” Unless, of course, you’re up for one more round. We can make it a quickie.”

  Ian shook his head slowly. “Don’t tempt me, love. At least not right now. You’re familiar with the theory that a man’s balls begin to ache when he hasn’t had sex for awhile?” At her nod, one corner of his mouth quirked up. “Well, I’m afraid the same thing tends to happen when he has too much sex.”

  “Aww. My poor baby,” she clucked teasingly. “Did I finally manage to wear you out? You’d better order up some food then before you faint. I know for sure I wouldn’t be able to budge you even an inch if you collapsed from hunger.”

  He gave her a playful smack on her delectably bare ass as she eased herself out of bed, and then chuckled as she strutted towards the bathroom, wiggling her buttocks provocatively.

  Ian picked up the phone that connected him directly to their private butler, Thierry. He had known the older, very dignified man for more than two decades, going back to a time when Ian had worked at this very hotel as the manager for almost a year. And if the rather prim, stately butler was the least bit shocked that Mr. Gregson and his luscious fiancée hadn’t emerged from their suite for nearly eighteen hours, he gave not the slightest indication as Ian relayed instructions to have food delivered.

  “We’ll need the limo ready in about ninety minutes,” continued Ian in fluent, flawless French. “Can you arrange for housekeeping to come in after we leave? I apologize for the late hour. We, ah, slept in a bit today.”

  “It is no problem at all, Monsieur Gregson,” assured Thierry in his usual formal manner. “The staff is always at your disposal, no matter the hour. The food will be delivered in twenty minutes time, Monsieur.”

  “Merci, Thierry.”

  Ian disconnected the call and headed off to join Tessa in the shower, resolving as he did so that it would be just for a shower and nothing more. They really did need to hustle a bit so that they could shower, dress, and eat in time to make their tour at the Louvre. A quick, lusty bout of shower sex would make them very late, especially since it likely wouldn’t be all that quick. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t been exaggerating a few minutes ago when he’d complained about being sore. And while he and Tessa enjoyed a very active sex life, the marathon-like session they had just indulged in was unusual even for them.

  This four-day trip to Paris had been something of a last minute thing. The idea had actually occurred to him on New Year’s Eve, when Madelyn and James had invited them to their wedding. Try as he might, he simply hadn’t been able to re-arrange his packed schedule so that they could arrive in time to join them. But he had been able to carve out these extra days before they were due in London for the annual board meetings.

  And they had been wonderful days so far. Even though the weather had been cold and rainy almost the entire time, he’d still shown Tessa several of the major sights - the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Versailles, the Arc de Triomphe. They had enjoyed wonderful meals, browsed the shops and galleries, and listened to live music at small, intimate clubs.

  Tessa had been all wide-eyed wonder the first time the limo had pulled up to the grand Parisian hotel. The majestic archi
tecture made the Gregson one of the most famous and admired buildings in the city, and the interior was every bit as splendid. The owner’s suite was not quite as large as some of the others they had stayed in, but was so sumptuously decorated that Tessa had declared it was like a small palace. She’d loved taking afternoon tea on the intimate terrace that offered up a breathtaking view of the city, even though the chilly weather had provided less than ideal conditions.

  Tomorrow would be their last day in the City of Lights, and Ian had already made some very special plans to make sure that Tessa’s first visit to one of his favorite cities would be an especially memorable one.

  A quick glance at the bedside clock showed there was barely fifteen minutes until their food was due to arrive, so he hastened into the opulent marble bathroom without further delay. But as he opened the shower door and got his first look at Tessa’s wet, lush curves, not to mention the sultry, inviting look in her blue eyes, he gulped, wondering if they did have time for a quickie after all.

  “The very last thing I need is more clothes. Or shoes. Or lingerie. And yet here we are, apparently getting ready to buy all three.”

  Ian lounged back against the plush leather loveseat inside the dressing room, grinning at her in a rather maddening manner. “Ah, but you don’t have a dress or shoes or any lacy bits that were actually bought in Paris, do you? Until now, that is.”

  Tessa sighed, knowing from experience that this was one of those moments when Ian would not be swayed. Her fiancé could be the most stubborn of men at times, especially when it came to spoiling her. And he’d been going out of his way today to indulge and pamper her, with all of her protests falling on deaf ears.

  After their late afternoon tour of the Louvre yesterday, where she had been thrilled to see such famed treasures as the painting of Mona Lisa, the sculpture of Venus de Milo, and the lavish furnishings that had belonged to Napoleon III, they’d had a light supper before turning in for the night at a rather early hour. And since they had had precious little sleep the night before during their marathon lovemaking session, they had fallen into a deep and dreamless slumber very quickly.