Feeling easier about Claire’s behavior, Tony slapped Tim on the back. “Good job, I believe you can be assured your position is safe. Just don’t start thinking you can challenge me to a game of eight ball to move higher in Rawlings. I’m not planning on handing over the reins any day soon.”
The evening sky began to darken as everyone sat around Brent’s fire pit. As much as Tony enjoyed the camaraderie of the day, he couldn’t stop thinking about getting Claire home and telling her what an amazing job she’d done. Yes, telling wasn’t the only thing on his mind. He fully intended on showing her. It wasn’t a plan of appreciation. She’d done what she needed to do. It was a plan of positive reinforcement. In a few short hours, she’d seemed to charm not only Courtney, but all of his friends.
Courtney had been right when she said that most of the women he dated weren’t the type to sit contentedly around a fire pit and listen to stories. They were women who liked to be wined and dined and who enjoyed all that his money could buy. The people present had no way of knowing that this outing meant more to Claire than a diamond bracelet. They had no way of knowing that it was her first experience in a long time that involved this many people. Squeezing Claire’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile when she looked his way. The day had been truly more than he imagined or expected. He whispered, “We should be going.”
Although Claire showed a twinge of disappointment, a microsecond later it turned into a complying nod and smile. She knew better than to argue, especially in a non-private setting. The other voices from around the fire were the ones who chimed in with their disappointment. They all wanted Tony and Claire to stay longer.
“It has been wonderful to get to know all of you,” Claire said seconds before Courtney swallowed her in a hug.
“Thank you for coming, and make sure Tony brings you around more often,” Courtney said as she peered over Claire’s shoulder and winked at Tony. When the two women ended their embrace, Courtney continued speaking to Tony, “And don’t scare her off. I like her.”
While he shrugged innocently, he looked up in time to see Sue hand Claire a piece of paper. As Claire opened it, Sue said, “Call me; we can do lunch.”
The next few minutes were a blur. Tony’s need for appearances kicked in, and his actions and words were on autopilot. As he remained polite and said his goodbyes, his mind swirled with thoughts about the note. What did it say? What had Claire and Sue talked about? He walked Claire to the car and opened her door. Did he assist her in getting in? Tony couldn’t remember. The moment he maneuvered the Lexus off Brent’s property, his ingrained concern with appearances evaporated—it was just Claire and him. They were no longer among others. Though the sun had set, the fall evening filled with a hue of red as they drove silently along the country roads. He made no attempt to rein in the threatening rage. How had the perfect day changed so drastically?
Tony didn’t know how far or how long he’d driven before he abruptly pulled the car onto the shoulder. Dirt and rocks pelted the underside of the convertible as he slammed his foot on the brake and threw the gearshift into PARK. There were too many things running through his mind, too many questions, and too many possibilities. He imagined the conversation between Claire and the wife of his vice president.
“I’m not his companion; he kidnapped me. Can you please help me? He isn’t like you think!”
The prospects were limitless. Instead of speaking, Tony held out his hand—he couldn’t even look at her, not after what she’d done.
“Tony …” she began, as she handed him the piece of paper.
He didn’t give Claire the chance to continue. With the hand that held Sue’s note, he seized her mouth and squeezed her cheeks. If he covered her nose … no, that wasn’t what he wanted. At the moment he didn’t know what he wanted. He just knew the perfect day had gone to hell in a matter of seconds.
“Not now,” he managed through gritted teeth. “We’ll discuss this when we get home.” Prying his hand from her face, he resumed his grip on the steering wheel. They rode in silence until they reached the front door of the estate.
Before they arrived at the Simmons’ house, Tony had made Claire a deal. Was it a deal—or perhaps a threat? Either way, he’d promised her a day at the spa in Chicago—if she behaved. When he stopped the car, he didn’t bother to open her door. This wasn’t a damn date. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead and said, “Go up to your suite. I’ll be up soon; in the meantime, I have things to do, like cancel a spa appointment.”
Though he didn’t turn, he knew she wanted to speak, possibly explain. It took her a few seconds, but soon, Claire opened her door and walked toward the house—out of the corner of his eye, he saw her head high and shoulders back. Her arrogance in the face of his power only fueled his thoughts. If she were brazen enough to respond like that when she knew she was about to be punished, what would she risk to get free?
He’d watched her for over an hour on the monitors. Catherine had even come into his office and tried to learn the reason for his change in demeanor. He couldn’t or didn’t want to explain. He couldn’t tell Catherine that she’d been right all along, that Claire had just been holding back, waiting for the opportunity to get free and take him down in the process. Tony didn’t want to admit that to himself, much less someone else. After all, he’d taken her to his friends—to his best friends—and now look what she’d done!
His decision was made. Behaviors had consequences and she needed to be punished. How? He debated, until he realized that punishment wasn’t something to be thought out; it was something to be delivered swiftly when necessary. It was a means by which to curb unacceptable behavior. What she had done or said while with Sue was undoubtedly unacceptable. Claire knew the rules: no divulging of private information. If Sue wanted to have lunch—there would obviously be sharing of private information, if there hadn’t been already.
By the time Tony stepped through the door of her suite, he’d decided to allow Claire to choose her penalty: a time-out or corporal punishment. By making her part of the decision process, she was forced to accept her responsibility for her actions, ultimately admitting to her insubordination and agreeing to the consequences.
Tony knew from the monitors that Claire was out on the balcony. The sound of the door must have gotten her attention. He didn’t speak, but he stopped and stared in her direction. It was an unspoken command, and she heard it loud and clear. With her back straight and her eyes locked on him, she boldly walked within inches. He lifted her chin, leaned forward, and bathed her cheeks in his warm breath. Tony didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding: she had failed to maintain her side of this agreement, and there would be a price to pay. “What did we discuss just before we arrived at the barbeque?”
Her eyes flashed fire, but her words sounded respectful. “I told you I wouldn’t let you down and I didn’t.”
“Actions have consequences; I’ve told you that. Why is that difficult for you to understand?”
“Tony, it isn’t. If—” He didn’t want excuses. The control he’d tried to gather during the drive and in his office evaporated. His open palm struck her cheek. It wasn’t powerful enough to knock her down, yet it accomplished his goal—she stopped speaking.
“Actions have consequences,” he repeated. As the evidence of his persuasion began to rise on her cheek, her moist eyes stayed fixed on his, and he continued, “I’ve been thinking quite a bit about an appropriate punishment.”
“Tony, if you would please let me speak. I know your decision is set, but allow me to talk.”
Her strength was commendable. More out of awe, he nodded and said, “Fine, make it quick.” Her words wouldn’t matter; his decision was set.
“I was nervous about going to this barbeque today, but I had a wonderful time. Courtney was the perfect hostess and very charming. Everyone was nice to me. I really didn’t know what to expect.” Her words were barely spaced. “Well, everyone except Bonnie. By the way, I overheard Bonnie and MaryAnn ta
lking and everyone there had your back. That includes me. Sue—well, Sue’s lonely. She told me that Tim works long hours, which she mentioned he enjoys, but she’s lonely. At some point, she asked me for my number. I don’t have one—as you know—but I thought that sounded dumb: everyone has a cell phone. So I just said I didn’t have it with me and I didn’t know my number. I never call myself. So, I’m guessing that’s why she gave me her number. I really didn’t know she was going to do it. If I had, would I’ve had her do it right in front of you?”
He didn’t want to hear this—it wasn’t the way he had imagined.
Claire went on. “When Courtney introduced me to Tim and Sue, I told Tim I’d heard good things about him—from you. I can only guess that made Sue and I instant friends. Women love to hear good things about their husbands. I would’ve told you if I’d gotten the number without your knowing. I have no way of calling, and if I just didn’t call, it would appear rude. I know how you feel about appearances.” Her tone softened. She’d stated her case; this was more of a plea. “I really did well today; this was just a misunderstanding, and your friends were very nice.”
Tony looked down into her eyes and tried to retrieve the red her explanation had muted. He wanted to punish her; she deserved it, didn’t she? He went on with his plan. “I’ve decided you may choose. Perhaps you would like to know your choices?”
Defeat filled her green eyes. It was the expression she’d had during their dinner, before he showed her the movies. The window into her thoughts disappeared. For the first time since he entered the room, she looked away as helplessness filled her voice. “Tony, your decision is made; I don’t care.”
“The first option is a two-week time-out in your suite.”
Suddenly, the fire was back. She glared, stood, and met him face-to-face. God, her strength captivated him. The defeat was gone. If there was a punishment coming, she wanted to choose. “Then I choose number two.”
He didn’t respond. The silence grew. He wanted her. He wanted to tell her he was sorry—he overreacted—but that wasn’t him. He couldn’t.
“Very well, undress.”
She didn’t hesitate; she obeyed his command and started by unbuttoning her blouse, one button at a time. Then she shimmied out of her slacks; she didn’t argue or complain and maintained eye contact the entire time. Tony’s arousal was becoming difficult to conceal. As her body trembled slightly before him, he searched for the red. Like his fury, it was gone. Tony’s angry demeanor dissolved.
“Come here,” he commanded.
She did. He held her shoulders and looked into her green eyes. “Damn you, Claire.” He pulled her close. “I make snap decisions based on the visible evidence. Appearances are important. I assumed you had something planned with Sue—something I hadn’t approved. I was wrong. Your speech,” he lifted her chin, gently this time, as his tone softened, “was very brave.” He watched her expression. “It helped me see that I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.” He put his head down on her hair and the odor of burning wood reminded him of Brent’s fire pit. He encircled her body with his arms. She was still trembling and he wanted to warm her.
The memories of the day resurfaced—her smile, the things Courtney and Brent had said, even the fact that Sue wanted to have lunch with her. He was painfully aroused by those thoughts, as well as the soft, naked body in his arms.
Tony’s voice continued to mellow. “Up until the moment Sue handed you that note, I was extremely proud of you. You were amazing. Courtney told me that about ten times.” He felt the tension leave her body as she became liquid against his chest. Claire lifted her eyes and smiled. He went on. “There’s something I’d like us to do.”
“Whatever it is—yes.”
He’d been wrong, yet instead of being upset, Claire was relieved. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted her. He no longer tried to subdue his grin as he said, “Your hair smells like smoke. I’d like us to shower.”
Returning his grin, Claire took his hand and led him to her bathroom. Once there, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, but before she undid them, her questioning eyes found his. It was a simple unspoken request, and he longed to grant it and more. As she removed his clothes, he undid her braid. Under the warm spray of the shower, he wet her hair, added shampoo, and gently massaged. “Your hair is beautiful, but it needs trimming, and the weather is getting colder, so maybe some highlights. I believe you’ll enjoy the spa. It has a great reputation.”
Her expression of innocence and surprise about did him in as she turned and asked, “You didn’t cancel my appointment?”
“No, I guess I hoped something would change my mind.” Was that true? Had he hoped for that? Or had he realized that the spa wouldn’t be open until the next day? Either way, as he lathered her hair with conditioner and the floral scent replaced the odor of smoke, he was glad he hadn’t had the opportunity.
Soon his slippery hands found their way to the curves of her breasts. Despite the warm water, her nipples were taut and hard. Each caress found his hands lower and lower. Turning her around, he lifted her body and held her against the shower wall. She was so light and fit just right. When her legs wrapped around his torso he worked to create the same frenzy in her that he felt burning within. His tongue and teeth taunted her nipples while his fingers increased their pace. By the way her nails gripped his shoulders, he knew she was close to finding the ecstasy that he too wanted to experience.
Adjusting her slightly, he found the place he wanted to be. Her wordless moans filled the shower and pushed him deeper and deeper. All of the day’s energies erupted as their bodies quaked in the aftermath of their union. When she laid her head on his shoulder and he heard her ragged breathing, Tony wanted nothing more than to hear those moans of pleasure again.
Through the night, he got what he wanted, and he made sure that Claire did too.
Tony woke before his alarm. Hearing Claire’s soft and delicate breathing, he saw her covered with only a sheet and curled into a ball on the far side of the bed. With the pale light of the lingering moon, he noticed her hair fanned around her head, damp and wavy. The sheet did little to hide her petite, soft, and supple body. He carefully lifted the blankets and covered her. As he watched, the warmth of the blankets allowed her to unconsciously relax and settle into a deeper slumber. He wanted her again. He knew he could wake her, and she would accommodate his demands. Laying his head back on the pillow, he remembered the sex they experienced and wondered when did this happen? He no longer wanted to dominate but to satisfy.
He hadn’t realized the true depth of his feelings until he heard himself apologize. Anthony Rawlings could count on one hand the people to whom he’d apologized. Now this woman—a piece of his plan—was on that shortlist.
Instead of relishing his new realization, he berated himself. Catherine was right: he should have stayed indifferent, dominant, and in charge. But, wasn’t he still in charge? He was. Even Catherine had said she was used to Claire—so was he.
Maybe he did apologize, and admittedly that was going a bit too far. Words from his past echoed in his memory. “Only the weak apologize.” Tony vowed to not allow that to happen again. Glancing again at the woman only a few feet away, he considered waking her. If he did, he could demonstrate the indifferent, domineering qualities that would verify he wasn’t weak. He could prove that he was in control.
Seeing her peaceful expression and thinking of her giving and surrendering herself over and over, Tony quietly got out of bed, put on his jeans, and left her suite. Stepping into the corridor, he decided to work out.
This POV was originally written at the request of my amazing readers and appeared in the Goodreads Group: The Consequences Series Group Reads, Therapy, and Hugs. That version has been tweaked and edited for BHE- Consequences. The “Accident” scene in Consequences was tragic, difficult to read, difficult to write, and often resulted in my being asked, “What was Tony thinking?” I decided to share. This POV was in no way intended to condo
ne abuse or physical violence, but was meant as insight into the troubled mind of a man who experienced pain and betrayal for the first time in his life.
Thank you for joining me on this dark and insightful journey.
~Aleatha
There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed.
—Napoleon Bonaparte
The whole damn deal hung by a thread. How many hours and millions of dollars had been wasted researching and reviewing this investment and securities firm to have it fall apart over some stupid disagreement about benefit buyouts? Sitting at the head of the long conference table, Tony listened to the debate until he couldn’t take it any longer. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke above the fray, “you have my offer. Your company won’t stand as it is another six months. You can either take the deal or file Chapter 11. With my offer your employees will receive appropriate compensation in exchange for their loss of benefits.”
“Mr. Rawlings, with all due respect, you’re offering pennies on the dollar.”
Standing, Tony adjusted his jacket and ignored the vibration of his private cell phone as he replied, “Yes, Mr. Collins, I am. I’ve also spent over a year learning the ins and outs of your company. You have no other prospects. I suggest you take the offer. The federal bankruptcy courts won’t be as generous.”
While the murmuring at the conference table intensified, Tony placed the documents and his laptop into his leather briefcase and nodded to his team. Addressing the assembly, he announced, “I expect an answer by tomorrow at noon, or I’ll assume that you’re taking your chances with the courts. Good day, ladies and gentlemen.”
The room fell into a stunned hush as Anthony Rawlings and his protégés gathered their belongings and walked away from the bargaining table. Once they stepped beyond the glass doors and neared the elevator, Tony heard Tom exhale. The team that accompanied him consisted of Tom Miller, his associate, Sharon Michaels, and David Field, one of Tony’s negotiators. Only their private assembly entered the small elevator. When the doors shut, Tom leaned toward Tony and spoke in a hushed tone. “I know you know how much it’ll cost if this falls through. We’re talking about—”
Behind His Eyes - Consequences Page 10