He stared unblinking, his mind racing. He was way over his head and sinking fast.
Dear God, help me.
The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Sandy looked up, startled. Tony heaved a relieved sigh. Once again he’d been saved by the bell.
“Harold must have come right over.” Mrs. Sandy shoved back her chair and stood. She took off her apron, draping it across the back of the chair.
The doorbell rang again.
She fluffed her curls with the tips of her fingers before heading for the front door.
Tony rose, feeling like a condemned prisoner on his way to the gas chamber. Condemned prisoner? No way. He forced himself to remember that he might think this is where he was meant to be but God might have other plans. Whatever happened would be His will.
Squaring his shoulders, Tony headed to the front door. He’d meet this challenge head-on. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
He slowed as he rounded the corner leading to the front foyer. It sounded almost as if Mrs. Sandy was speaking to a woman. The husky voice of the visitor was naggingly familiar. But how could that be?
“Yes, he’s here. In fact we’re just having lunch. We’d love for you to join us.” Mrs. Sandy opened the door wider just as Tony stepped into view.
He stopped short, unable to believe his eyes. Sanding there with a bag in each hand and a Cheshire cat smile plastered across her face was the one woman he’d thought he’d never see again.
Chapter Two
“Darling, aren’t you going to give me a kiss?”
Tony could only stare and wonder if Claire Waters was a vision that his sleep-deprived brain had conjured up to torment him. She looked beautiful. Stunning, actually. Her long black hair was pulled back in a simple twist, and her pale yellow dress highlighted her dark tan.
She didn’t wait for his answer. Claire brushed past Mrs. Sandy and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You have to know how much I’ve missed you.”
The light provocative scent of her perfume teased his nostrils, and almost of their own volition his hands moved to her waist.
“I’ve missed you, too.” It was his voice but it was as if someone else had spoken the words.
She smiled and tilted her face upward. He lowered his mouth obligingly. Her lips were warm and sweet, and he lost himself in the kiss. It had indeed been too long.
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Sandy tittered, and Tony jerked back.
“What do we have here?”
His heart plummeted at the sound of the deep baritone resonating from the open doorway. Tony slowly turned his head and met Harold Clarke’s amused gaze.
“Mr. Clarke.” Tony disentangled himself from Claire’s arms. He extended one hand and resisted the urge to wipe her lipstick from his mouth with the back of the other. “What a surprise.”
Mrs. Sandy laughed. “I told you Harold was going to stop by.”
“That’s right.” Tony flashed a smile. “You did.”
“Let’s cut the guy some slack, Darlene.” Harold shook Tony’s hand and slanted a sideways glance at Claire. “It isn’t every day a man is reunited with his fiancée.”
Claire raised one dark brow but didn’t deny the man’s mistaken impression. She merely brushed a strand of hair that had pulled loose in their embrace away from her face and shifted her gaze to Tony.
He had to admire her composure. She was cool and collected while he stood on the edge of blurting out a confession. Subterfuge had never been his strength.
“Mr. Clarke.” Tony hesitated, raking his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t the way he’d wanted to discuss the mistake they’d made, but now it seemed he didn’t have a choice.
“Darling.” Claire grasped his arm, her nails digging into his skin. “I’ve been traveling since early this morning. I’m exhausted and I’d really like to sit down.”
“Of course, my dear.” Mrs. Sandy picked up Claire’s suitcase. “Forgive my poor manners. Let’s go into the parlor and I’ll get us some iced tea.”
The thought of prolonging this agony a moment longer was unbearable. “Wait. I need to explain—”
“I said don’t worry about it.” Harold’s tone broached no argument. “I’m glad to see that you and your fiancée have such a close and loving relationship.”
“Tony is a very affectionate guy.” The twinkle in Claire’s eyes told Tony she might not understand what was going on, but she’d decided to have some fun with it. His unease skyrocketed.
“Sweetheart, stop.” He smiled through gritted teeth and shot her a warning glance. All he needed was for her to make a bad situation worse.
Her smile widened. His irritation seemed to please her. An icy chill traveled up Tony’s spine. He knew all too well what this woman was capable of doing. Her warm greeting only moments before was no guarantee she’d treat him kindly.
“Everybody, just take a seat. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Mrs. Sandy hurried into the kitchen.
Mr. Clarke’s gaze followed her out of the room before shifting to Claire, who’d settled on the sofa next to Tony. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” He extended his hand. “I’m Harold Clarke.”
“Mr. Clarke is an elder and head of the church council.” Tony could only hope she understood the significance of the information he’d just imparted. If she didn’t he could be sunk deeper than the Titanic in a matter of minutes.
“And I know who you are,” Harold said teasingly. “We heard all about the lovely Andrea when Tony interviewed for the position.”
“My name is Claire,” she said sweetly.
“Andrea Claire,” Tony said instantly, covering her hand with his and squeezing it. Hard. “Andrea Claire Waters.”
“That’s right.” Her laugh sounded forced to Tony, but Harold didn’t seem to find anything amiss. Especially when she leaned forward and batted her long dark lashes, her painted lips tilting upward. “Harold—you don’t mind if I call you Harold, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“And you must call me Claire.”
Tony watched in amazement while Claire went to work. The woman had flirting down to an art form. The guy never knew what hit him. By the time Mrs. Sandy returned with a tray filled with tea and a plate of cookies, the two were laughing like old friends.
“Now, Harold, what is it that you do for a living?” Claire took a glass from Mrs. Sandy without even glancing up or uttering a word of thanks.
“I’m a banker.”
“A banker?” Claire raised a brow.
“Actually I own the bank,” the man said proudly. “As well as several others in nearby towns.”
“I knew you were a businessman the moment I saw you.” Claire almost purred the words.
If Tony didn’t know better, he’d think she was really interested in the guy. But he knew Harold was too old to hold her interest and not nearly rich enough to suit her tastes.
“What gave it away?”
Her voice lowered to a sultry whisper. “You have the look. The clothes, the hair, the smell—” she wrinkled her nose “—of success.”
“Is that right?” Despite the amused gleam in Harold’s eyes, Tony could see Claire had pulled the poor sap into her web.
“Absolutely.” She smiled widely, her teeth incredibly straight and white.
“I’ll get us some more napkins.” Mrs. Sandy stood abruptly and left the room.
Claire and Harold paid no attention. Tony stared thoughtfully at the woman’s stiffened spine. For a moment he could have sworn she was jealous.
“My father is a businessman, very successful. You have that same look,” Claire said.
Harold cleared his throat. “What is it your father does?”
Claire crossed one leg, her short skirt giving Tony and Harold ample view of her long, shapely legs. “He used to own a data warehousing operation. He sold that business several years ago. Now?” She paused and her brow furrowed. “He’s pursuing a business venture with one of his friends.”
> Mrs. Sandy returned, but without the napkins. Her hair looked as if it had been combed and her lipstick freshly applied.
His landlady took the chair next to Tony and smiled sweetly at Claire. “Your father and Harold must be about the same age. They’d probably have a lot in common.”
Tony hid a grin behind his hand.
Claire stared at Mrs. Sandy for a moment as if trying to place who she was. “Actually Daddy is a lot older than Harold and not nearly as handsome.”
“Harold has three teenagers at home,” Mrs. Sandy said.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “How awful for you.”
A startled expression crossed the man’s face. “They’re good kids. Of course it’s hard being a single parent.”
“Does your ex live in town?”
“My wife died five years ago,” Harold said, a flash of pain skittering across his face.
“How horrible,” Claire said, donning an expression of sympathy. “But I bet a handsome guy like you has the women beating down his door.”
Tony stifled a groan.
“Claire, was your father ever disappointed that your fiancé didn’t choose to join him in his business?”
Score one for Mrs. Sandy. She’d pulled Claire’s attention away from Harold and reminded her she had a fiancé all in one breath.
Claire’s gaze swept the woman up and down. “Daddy’s still hoping he’ll be able to convince Tony that enterprise software is where it’s at.”
Tony choked on his tea.
“Are you saying he doesn’t feel that being a minister is a worthy calling?” Mrs. Sandy’s eyes narrowed. “And it almost sounds as if you agree with him.”
Claire slanted Tony a quick glance. He could read the confusion in her eyes.
“Claire was actually the one that encouraged me to go into the ministry,” Tony said quickly.
“Really?” The approval in Harold’s eyes prompted Tony to continue.
“That’s right.” He smiled at Claire. “I remember it vividly. We were having coffee in Cedar Ridge, Claire’s hometown, discussing an upcoming wedding of some friends, and the more we talked, the clearer it became that the ministry was where I belonged.”
Harold shifted his attention to Claire. “So you don’t have any qualms about being a minister’s wife?”
“You want me to be honest?” Claire took a sip of her iced tea, her face suddenly serious.
Tony’s hand tightened around his glass, and he forced himself to breathe.
Harold leaned forward in his chair. “Of course I do.”
“Like I told my father before I left town, there’s no place I’d rather be than at Tony’s side.” She flashed a bright smile. “And the fact that he’s in the ministry…well, it’s just an added plus.”
“Can I be honest?” Tony paced the floor of the deserted church, his voice mimicking hers. “Mind telling me what was that all about?”
He’d brought her to the church to explain everything. They needed a place to talk where they couldn’t be overheard. When Harold had held out the keys to the church, Tony had jumped at the chance to get Claire out of there.
“I was jerking your chain.” Claire laughed. “Actually it was fun. I might do it again.”
“Don’t you realize what’s at stake here?”
Claire shot him a narrowed, glinting gaze. “Not really. Ask me if I care.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Not really.”
Tony took a deep breath and bit back the angry words that sprang from the depth of his frustration. He’d hoped everything would go right when he’d received this call.
“I can’t believe you’re a minister.” Her gaze slid up and down his muscular form. “What a waste.”
He bit back the urge to tell her he was a minister, not a priest. Only the thought of how she’d take it held him back. “We need to talk.”
“You mean straighten out our stories?” She smiled impishly. “Actually I think it’s kind of fun to wing it.”
Maybe fun for you, he thought. You don’t have anything to lose. For him, it had been torture, pure and simple.
“On the other hand.” She leaned back against the cabinet containing the hymnals and stared thoughtfully. “Maybe I should let you explain. Okay, lay it on me. What’s the scoop?”
“It’s sort of complicated.” He knew he was stalling but he needed to figure out a way to explain the mess he’d gotten himself into that made some kind of sense. “Why don’t you go first? Tell me how you found me and what brings you to Millville.”
“Taylor gave me your address,” she said.
He wished it was Taylor standing in front of him now, instead of Claire. He could count on his old friend to help him. He wasn’t so sure of Claire. “How is she?”
Claire gave a careless shrug. “She doesn’t look like a blimp any more, if that’s what you want to know.”
“Taylor’s always been thin.”
“Ha,” Claire said. “You should have seen her six months ago.”
“You mean before she had the twins?”
“I don’t see how Nick could bear to look at her.” Claire shuddered. “Love must truly be blind.”
At one time, he’d wished it could be him marrying Taylor. But he realized now it wasn’t part of God’s plan. Still, when he did marry, he hoped it would be to a woman like her. “She sent me pictures of the boys. Cute kids.”
“They’re okay, I guess,” Claire said grudgingly. “But they’re monsters. Especially that Robbie. That kid screams continually. No wonder some women leave their kids. You’d have to have nerves of steel to put up with that.
“Mothers don’t leave their children.”
“Some do,” Claire insisted. A strange expression crossed her face, but it was gone in an instant.
“I’m sure Taylor can handle it.” Tony laughed. “But you still haven’t told me what brought you here.”
“You owe me a favor, and I’m here to collect.”
“Favor? How do you figure?”
“Let’s sit down somewhere and I’ll remind you of what you so conveniently seem to have forgotten.” She slipped one shoe off and rubbed her foot. “I bought these heels in New York a couple of weeks ago, and they’re killing my feet.”
“My new office should be down this hall somewhere.”
She slid her pump on, and Tony followed her down a shiny aisle that gleamed as if it had been freshly waxed. In no time at all they stood in front of a door with the word Pastor in raised gilt letters.
Tony paused, unprepared for the emotion welling up from deep inside. He’d prayed for this day, and now it was here. He’d finally be able to serve God to his fullest ability.
Thank You.
“What are we waiting for?” Claire spoke in her usual blunt manner. “An invitation?”
Tony had to chuckle. Claire never changed. He turned the knob and ushered her in.
Her nose wrinkled. “It smells funny in here.”
“I think it’s just from being shut up.” Tony raised the blinds and cracked open the window. Sunlight flooded the room.
He glanced around. The dark wood paneling was reminiscent of an earlier era, but the burgundy leather chairs were in good shape, and a new computer sat on the desktop.
“This place definitely needs professional help.” Claire’s gaze shifted to the side counter adorned by an oversize bouquet of silk flowers in a burgundy vase. A look of horror crossed her face. “Good Lord.”
“Claire,” Tony warned.
“Don’t tell me you actually like those hideous things.” Her eyes widened in melodramatic shock. “Next thing I know you’ll have those magnetic goldfish on your desk.”
“Actually I was thinking of getting a couple of them.” He made sure he kept a straight face. Dangerous as it could be, he enjoyed teasing her. “One for me and one for you.”
“Do that and you’ll get that cheap plastic bowl smashed over your thick head.”
He laughed.
“You th
ink I’m kidding.”
“No, but I am.” He couldn’t keep from grinning. “But I’m totally serious when I say I’d like it if you could stay awhile.”
“I might,” she said. “At least until Daddy calms down.”
“What’s got your father upset?”
“You know how unreasonable he can be,” she said, skirting the question. “We needed some time apart. So here I am.”
“I haven’t seen you in two years.”
“I know.” Claire winked. “It’s been way too long.”
He stared. She was up to something. The question was—what?
“Darling, don’t look so suspicious.” Her voice turned low and sultry. She reminded him of a cat closing in on its prey. “It’ll be a kick. You and I together just like old times.”
Tony cleared his throat, uncomfortable at the direction in which they were heading and just as uncomfortable at the appeal that road still had. “Claire, things have changed. I’m a minister now.”
Her lips quirked upward.
He folded his arms across his chest. “You find that amusing?”
Claire’s smile widened. “You might have fooled the others—” she leaned forward and placed her hand flat against his chest “—but I know what you’re really like.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” He jerked back, his skin hot beneath her touch. “You never even tried to get to know me. You just wanted to use me to break up Nick and Taylor.”
She stilled and stared for a long moment. “Well, I guess that makes us even, doesn’t it?”
“Even?”
“Oh, please, Tony. I may be a lot of things but I’m not a fool.” Her eyes narrowed. “For some reason you want everyone to think I’m your fiancée. That’s okay with me. But if you’re going to use me for your own purposes, I need to know the game plan before…”
“Before?” he prompted, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
“Before I decide what it’s going to cost you.”
Chapter Three
“Marilyn Marshall, our last minister’s wife, led a Wednesday morning Bible study. I know we’ve all missed it.” Mrs. Sandy peered at Claire over the top of her cup. “Would you be interested in starting that up again?”
Redeeming Claire Page 2