Eternally Yours

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Eternally Yours Page 14

by Brenda Jackson


  Remington nodded. “You don’t know him, yet you want to recommend that we hire him?”

  “I’ve checked into his employment history. It’s apparent he’s an excellent employee. The only reason he was released from his former job, and the reason he can’t find employment now is because of John Drayton.”

  Remington smiled. “If Larry Morgan is as good as you say he is, then there’s no reason we can’t call him in for an interview. And if he meets all of our qualifications, we will consider him for employment with us.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, and I think it’s commendable that you’re taking such an interest in someone you really don’t know.”

  Clayton smiled. “I have my reasons.”

  “I’m sure you do. And don’t worry about John Drayton. If he wants to start something with Remington Oil let him. I’m just the person to finish it for him.”

  Clayton laughed as he stood. He liked Remington’s grit. It reminded him of someone else he knew. The beautiful, feisty woman he was in love with. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Go ahead and be daring, a devilish little voice droned in Syneda’s ear.

  Don’t even think it, the voice of reason shot back, Clayton may not like it….

  Syneda closed the book with a thump. Why was she beginning to care what Clayton might or might not like? Why was she remembering that he’d once said he liked the way she wore her hair?

  “Sorry about running off like that,” Deborah, her hairdresser, said, coming back to her. “But Ms. Jones claimed the relaxer was stinging, and God knows she can’t afford to lose another strand of hair.”

  Syneda smiled. She liked Deborah and had been coming to this hair salon for over five years. The hairstylist was good at what she did.

  “Did you see a style in that book you liked? You’re long overdue for a new look,” Deborah said, working quickly and efficiently as she applied the conditioner to Syneda’s hair.

  Syneda thought for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I saw a couple that I liked.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “You haven’t done anything drastic to your hair since you went from curly to straight over a year ago. How about a short cut? I think it’ll look good on you.”

  Syneda frowned. “Why do you want to cut my hair? Is this one of your scissor-happy days? I saw what you did to Carla Frazier’s head.”

  Deborah shrugged as she continued to work the conditioner into Syneda’s hair. “Carla got just what she asked for. She wanted her hair cut off like that. And you have to admit, she looks good with short hair. Some people wear short hair well, some do not. That’s why I’m thankful for such a thing as weaved hair.”

  Syneda grinned. She could always count on Deborah to lighten her mood. Although the woman could be a chatterbox at times, she enjoyed coming to the full-service salon.

  “Well, are you gonna get a cut?”

  “Not this time. Let me think about it some more.”

  After getting home and settling in for the night, Syneda thought back to her conversation with Deborah and her decision not to make any drastic changes to her hair. For the first time in her life, she had taken into account what a man might or might not like about her. Specifically, she had not gotten her hair cut because she had cared how Clayton would feel about it. When she’d changed from the curly look to the straight look last year, he had complimented her several times about her hair and had told her how much he’d liked it.

  She frowned, not liking the way her thoughts were going. In fact, she hadn’t liked the way her thoughts had been going for quite some time. All she had to do, at anytime and at anyplace, was to close her eyes to pick out one of several memorable moments she and Clayton had shared over the past couple of months. Even now, she could clearly remember their weekend together in New Orleans, especially that first night.

  Vivid memories of their room, a romantic suite, filled her thoughts. It had been large and spacious with a king-size bed. The room had been cool, supported by the air-conditioning that had provided relief from the already hot “Nawlins” afternoon. But even the air conditioner had not withstood the powerful heat that began surging to unbearable degrees once Clayton had closed the room door, locking them inside.

  He had ordered room service and the food had been delicious. But it was the things that had happened after the meal that still had her nearly groaning aloud at the memory. It was when he had scooped her up into his arms and had taken her into the bedroom, making beautiful, passionate love to her.

  The ringing of the phone startled Syneda so much that she jumped. A part of her became angry at the intrusion. She picked up the phone.

  “Yes?”

  “Hmm, I like a woman who says yes right off the bat,” a husky masculine voice said.

  Syneda smiled as she stretched across her bed. “I was just thinking about you.”

  Clayton smiled. “Were you? Good thoughts I hope.”

  “The best.”

  “Enlighten me. And be specific,” he said mildly.

  Syneda closed her eyes and blushed as her mind did a sort of instant mental replay. However, this time it zeroed in on more things in detail. She could see herself, how she had been that night in New Orleans, naked, languorous, in his arms. She could feel the silk bedsheet against her bare back and the weight of his body, hard as a rock, upon hers. She could conjure up the taste of him in her mouth as he kissed her senseless.

  “Syneda?”

  “Hmm?” She refused to open her eyes just yet. She could visualize more that way.

  “You’re moaning into the phone, baby.”

  Syneda’s eyes snapped open. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you were. Did you enjoy our time together in New Orleans?”

  “Oh, yes. Tremendously,” she whispered.

  “How would you like to meet me again next weekend?”

  Syneda felt her mouth arrange itself into a smile. “Where?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta? What’s happening in Atlanta?”

  “We’ll be what’s happening. How about it?”

  Syneda began to tremble at the thought of being with Clayton again. It had already been two weeks since they had last been together. A part of her wanted to say yes, just name the place and the time, and I’ll be there. But then another part of her, the one that had always kept her levelheaded where men were concerned, wanted her to call time-out and take time to examine the feelings and changes slowly taking place within her.

  She heaved a sigh, rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into the pillow.

  “Hello? Syneda? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here.”

  “Well, then, what about it?”

  Syneda sighed. The “I don’t need a man” part of her was tempted to tell him no, but the “I enjoy being with Clayton Madaris” part of her overruled.

  “Yes, Clayton. I’ll meet you in Atlanta.”

  “Celeste?” Braxter whispered.

  “Hmm?” she answered, her voice sleepy.

  “Do you want to spend the night?”

  She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Since it’s past midnight and I’m still in your bed, I think that’s not a bad idea.”

  Braxter grinned. They had just finished making love. She was everything he wanted in a woman and more. “I’m going to have to leave town for a while.”

  She came awake and sat up in bed. “Why?”

  He got out of the bed and stretched. “Reelection time. It’s time for the senator to take his campaign on the road, back to his home state of Texas, and I’ll be going with him.”

  Celeste frowned. She was clearly not happy with this news. She had spent one month with Braxter already, and had not been able to find out anything of particular interest about his employer. As far as Braxter Montgomery was concerned, Senator Lansing walked on water. The only thing she had stumbled on was the fact that around the same time of month in Ma
y of each year, Senator Lansing cleared his calendar for a few days and went back to Texas. She took a deep breath. There could be a number of reasons for him doing that. She would be the first to admit that everyone needed to get away by themselves once in a while.

  “Does that mean you’re breaking things off between us?” she asked poutily, not really caring one way or another. The person who had hired her had paid her in full up-front. And although she didn’t have anything against Braxter personally, in fact, she thought that under different circumstances, she could have found herself very much attracted to him. He was indeed handsome and was definitely a terrific lover. But she had learned a long time ago not to mix business with pleasure.

  “Breaking things off?” Braxter asked, laughing. “Of course not. I’ll be coming home most weekends.”

  He got back in the bed and pulled her into his arms. “I’ve got an idea. How would you like to be my guest at the senator’s kickoff campaign party three weeks from now? A friend of his, this wealthy cattleman named Jacob Madaris, is giving a huge party for the senator at his ranch. The guest list is pretty impressive.”

  Celeste arched a brow, feigning disinterest by yawning. “Really? How impressive?”

  He smiled. “Not that I think you’ll really be interested,” he teased. “But I know for a fact that Sterling Hamilton is coming.”

  She bolted out of his arm. “Sterling Hamilton! The actor Sterling Hamilton?”

  Braxter laughed, pulling her back to him. “Yes, but before you get overly excited, you may as well know that Diamond Swain is coming, too.”

  “Oh,” Celeste said disappointedly. Anyone who kept up with the lifestyles of the rich and famous knew that Sterling Hamilton and the leading lady in most of his movies, Diamond Swain, were an item.

  “Disappointed?”

  “Crushed is more like it.”

  Braxter smiled. “Does that mean you don’t want to be my guest at the party?”

  She smiled up at him. “I said I was crushed, not crazy. Of course I’ll attend the party with you.”

  She snuggled closer to him, smiling, pleased with the recent turn of events.

  Chapter 13

  Clayton glanced around the room, taking in the well-dressed, affluent people in their expensive suits and gowns. Around him the crowd swirled happily amid the soft, jazzy sound of Kenny G as he entertained a group on the other side of the huge room. As usual, Clayton thought, his uncle had spared no expense for his good friend, Senator Lansing

  He stopped at a table laden with food and helped himself to a little cracker covered with rich, dark caviar. Being at a party was the last thing he wanted. Especially a party where Syneda would be in attendance and the two of them would pretend to be only friends. The thought of seeing her again inflamed him with desire.

  He hadn’t seen her since their romantic rendezvous in Atlanta three weeks ago. Because of the important court appeal she’d been working on, and a couple of business trips he’d taken to California, they had not been able to hook up. Although they had talked frequently on the phone, their conversations had been short and as far as he was concerned, unfulfilling.

  Clayton searched the crowded room with a steady, sweeping glance, recognizing various members of his family, business associates, friends, as well as a number of unfamiliar faces. He continued to scan the room for the one person he wanted to see. Syneda.

  A group of people shifted from the crowd surrounding Kenny G, and for a moment he had a clear view across the room. And then he saw her.

  She was dancing with Lloyd Jones. Clayton frowned. Although he didn’t know Jones personally, he knew of him. He knew that the man was in his early thirties, single and considered by some to be a brilliant neurosurgeon.

  “Don’t look now, man, but you’re glaring. And for some reason jealousy doesn’t become you,” a familiar voice said in a deep Texan drawl at his shoulder.

  Clayton turned to face his brother Justin. “Am I that obvious?” he asked drily.

  Justin took a sip of his wine. “Right now only to me because I know a little more than most. But if you keep it up, everyone in this room will know, especially Lloyd Jones. Do me a favor and behave yourself. I don’t want to repair any broken bones tonight.”

  Clayton shrugged. “You won’t have to,” he said smoothly. “I promised Syneda that I would not give anything away.”

  “That should be interesting.”

  “If it was left up to me, everyone would know.”

  Justin chuckled when he saw Clayton’s annoyed features. “I gathered as much.” He took another sip of wine. “Give her time, Clayton. Things will work out.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  Justin stared long and hard at his brother. An amused grin touched his features. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

  “No worse than you had it for Lorren,” Clayton shot back, his eyes narrowing.

  “I think there’s a major difference here, though,” Justin said, smiling, thinking of his wife and the love affair they’d shared before they had married.

  “What?” Clayton asked, reaching for another cracker from the table.

  “I was in love with Lorren. My intentions were honorable.”

  Clayton put a hand on the sleeve of his brother’s jacket, claiming his full attention. “So are mine. I’m in love with Syneda.”

  Justin stared at him, openmouthed. “Impossible. You would never allow yourself to fall in love,” he finally managed to say.

  “Then that should say a lot for Syneda’s abilities, shouldn’t it?”

  Recovering from the initial shock, Justin eyed his brother thoughtfully, not knowing what else to say. A grin spread across his face. “Care to hang with me for a while?”

  “Where’s Lorren?”

  “She’s upstairs. She wanted to get the kids tucked in bed before coming down. Well, well, well, take a look at who just walked in.”

  It took all Clayton’s strength to tear his gaze from Syneda and Lloyd Jones to the person who had apparently caught Justin’s attention.

  “It’s cousin Felicia Laverne. And take a look at her outfit.”

  Clayton’s lips lifted in an amused smile. His attractive cousin was dressed in a silk leopard jumpsuit with matching short leopard boots and carrying a leopard clutch bag. Her face lit up in a warm smile when she saw them. She began walking their way.

  “Justin, Clayton. It’s good seeing you guys,” she said, giving them both a quick peck on the cheek. She glanced around the room. “Where’s Dex?”

  “He’s around here someplace,” Justin answered, scanning her from head to toe. “What’s with this outfit?”

  Her eyes darkened. “My man’s been acting like a dog so I’ve decided to begin acting like a cat. I’m on the prowl tonight and would love to purr to any man for attention. So you better warn your rich friends to stay away from me. You know how much I like men with money.”

  Justin chuckled. “None of my friends can afford you. After husband number two, maybe you should consider marrying a poor man.”

  “Not on your life. I’m sure there’s some man out there with both honey and money.”

  Clayton shook his head. He and Felicia were first cousins and had been born in the same year. Their grandmother said the moon must have been out of orbit that year, given his womanizing ways and Felicia’s inability to keep a husband.

  “Well, I’ll see you guys later. I understand there are a lot of men here tonight, and I want to check them out.”

  “Yeah, see ya,” Clayton said, turning his attention back to Syneda. Sometime during his conversation with Felicia, the dance had come to an end, and Syneda now stood across the room talking to his aunt Delores. He sighed. At least Jones wasn’t hanging around.

  Clayton knew there was no way Syneda hadn’t seen him, so why hadn’t she come over and at least said hello? There would have been nothing conspicuous with her doing that. So why was she avoiding him?

  Delores Brooks’s
happy chattering seemed to recede into the distance as Syneda’s eyes drifted to Clayton. She had known the exact moment he had entered the room. Although the room was crowded, she had known.

  Like a soft caress, his mere presence had touched her even while she had danced in the arms of another man. She frowned, getting annoyed with herself. Long ago she had made up her mind that getting deeply involved with a man was a personal complication she didn’t want or need in her life.

  But now, in a way she could not define, she was getting deeply involved with Clayton. And he was becoming a complication. She had picked up on that fact weeks ago, right after their trip to New Orleans. But she had convinced herself that he was the one man she could handle. She had believed an intimate relationship with him would not mean losing control over her emotions. After all, all she’d wanted to share with him was passion, and the man certainly was full of that.

  But somewhere, somehow, for a little while, she had allowed herself to forget the promises she had made to herself, her goals, and her own personal established agenda. If she wasn’t careful, she would forget the reasons she could never trust love. She had known firsthand the pain of believing that someone loved you and then being disappointed.

  She met Clayton’s glance across the room. The look in his eyes was heated, seductive, arousing. Memories of their weekend in Atlanta flowed between them and she read the message in his eyes. He had said nothing, he hadn’t even bothered to move his lips. But then, he didn’t really need to say anything. The message he was sending to her was plain and clear. He wanted her and sometime later tonight, family or no family, he intended to have her.

  Shakily, Syneda took a deep breath. Even when she wanted to struggle against the sensual pull he had on her mind and senses, she couldn’t. And she knew that deep down, tonight of all nights, she wouldn’t. She wanted him, too.

  Only when Clayton’s aunt touched her arm to regain her attention did she drop her eyes from his. When she looked back in his direction moments later, he was gone.

 

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