Harry’s voice helped clear her thoughts, “If it’s something you want, I’m glad he returned it. But why now?”
“He said it was a sign of commitment. In that box of information, there was a picture of it at an auction of my things. I thought it was gone forever.”
Harry took Claire’s hand and led her toward the sofa. On the table, in the middle of the small grouping, sat the almost empty bottle of wine and two glasses.
When Harry’s grip tightened, Claire felt the need to explain, “I ordered a bottle of wine before he showed up. It came with two glasses, and I offered some to him.”
“That’s very hospitable of you.”
Claire wrenched her hand free at the crispness of his tone and turn toward the bedroom. This time, she didn’t get the chance to dismiss him. He followed, seized her shoulders, and turned her around. Peering down with the softest blue eyes, Harry spoke, “I don’t care about the wine. I only care that you’re safe. I called and called, but you didn’t answer. His jet left the private airstrip about 12:30 AM. I panicked. After what you told me about last time, I was scared to death you were on that jet, involuntarily.”
“I really am sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t hear my phone.” She picked it up, from the table near the wine. The screen’s message said eight missed calls as well as text messages and emails. She checked the ringer; it was silenced. “I guess I never turned on the ringer after my meeting with Meredith.” She looked up into his caring expression. “Thank you for your concern. What are you going to do about work tomorrow?”
Harry smiled his first smile since arriving, giving Claire the sensation of sunshine breaking through a cloudy day. “I know the boss. I’d better text her and let her know you’re all right, but she gave me the day off.”
Claire grinned, enjoying the sensation of raised cheeks instead of ones dampened with tears. “I’ve always heard it helps to have connections.”
Harry leaned down and kissed her nose. “I like your smile much better than the sad face.”
“Me too.” She tipped her face up and allowed her lips to linger on his. “I know I look like hell. I’m gonna go clean up. Why don’t you text Amber?”
“I think you’re beautiful. You couldn’t possibly look like hell even if you tried, but go do whatever you want. You need some more sleep, and so do I. I’ll text Amber.”
Wrestling butterflies and insecurities, Claire opened the door from the bedroom to the living room as her hand slightly trembled on the cool door knob. Scanning the suite, she immediately noticed Harry’s bed. He had a sheet, blanket, and pillow on the sofa. Continuing to search, she found the man she sought. Irony struck when she realized he stood exactly where Tony stood hours before, at the large window, staring out at the dark San Diego skyline. This time, her mind was on the man with her.
Worried that he’d reject what she had to offer, she tried to push the doubts from her mind and press forward—barefooted across the light carpet. As she neared him, she saw the glass in Harry’s hand; it wasn’t one of the stemmed wine goblets from the table, but a small tumbler from the bar. He swallowed the last of the wine.
Quietly, she moved next to him and touched his elbow. Lost in thought and startled by the contact, he turned his gaze to her. She watched as his blue eyes devoured and his expression morphed. She was only inches away, her face clean of make-up and tears, her hair brushed, and wearing a silk, floor length, light green nightgown.
She remained motionless, nervously awaiting his response. When he didn’t speak, she tried for levity, “You’re awfully tall to sleep on that sofa.”
Keeping his eyes fixed to hers, he replied, “I was thinking the same thing as I put the blanket there.” His hand gently went to Claire’s shoulder, teasing the delicate spaghetti strap. She closed her eyes and exhaled, causing her breasts to move as her lungs deflated.
In unison, they stepped forward. Her nipples hardened as they brushed the silk nightgown and pushed against his hard chest. They’d been close to this numerous times, always stopping before making the ultimate leap.
Claire knew the consequence of her clothing choice. She had shorts and t-shirts for her morning workouts. If she’d chosen that for her sleeping attire, she’d have sent an entirely different message. But she didn’t. Her decision wasn’t made hastily; she’d been debating it for weeks.
Harry’s voice resonated deeper than usual, “You’ve had a long night. Don’t you want some sleep?”
Her body shivered with anticipation, and her response came breathily, “Eventually.”
He pulled her petite frame to him. Within his embrace, her body became liquid, molding against his. “Are you sure? I didn’t come here for this.”
She nodded, smiling a shy tight lipped smile and wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. “I know. You came because you were worried about me.”
It was Harry’s turn to nod.
She strained her tip toes to kiss his cheek. “And I appreciate your concern.”
He lifted his brows. “So this is your way of saying thank you?”
Claire gazed through her lashes. “No. I said thank you, I think. This is what I want.”
With only a moment’s hesitation, he took her hand and led her toward the bedroom. Her insecurities faded with each step. When they reached the threshold, Harry stopped and asked, “Are you letting me in, or pushing him out?”
Claire’s smile faded as she contemplated the question she wished he’d never asked. Feeling the warmth of the hand that encased hers, she replied honestly, “At the risk of losing you to the sofa, I don’t know.”
He reached down and scooped Claire into his arms. She giggled in surprise as her feet left the ground. “At the risk of sounding like a man, at this moment, I don’t give a damn. I just want to be sure you know what you’re doing.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke with purposeful breaths into his ear, “I promise I know exactly what I’m doing. It’s you and your actions I’m uncertain about…” She nuzzled his neck. “…and the anticipation is driving me crazy.”
His blue eyes twinkled. “Ms. Nichols, crazy is just the way I like you.” When he laid Claire upon the king-sized bed, her long chestnut hair fanned behind her lovely face, highlighting the intense shimmer of her emerald eyes. After kissing her sweet lips, he expressed his appreciation of his observation, “You are so beautiful!”
Claire felt her cheeks blush as she lifted her head to watch Harry pull his shirt over his head. She’d seen his bare chest before, usually when they’d worked out together. Tonight she stared, thinking it looked wider than she’d remembered. The sight of it heaving with each breath took her breath away. Happily, she replied, “I must say, I like my view too.” Her smile flowed from her lips, to her cheeks, and settled in her glittering green eyes.
When he started to unbuckle his belt, Claire sat up and asked, “May I?” Harry nodded and watched as Claire reached for the buckle.
She was a divorced twenty-nine-year-old woman, not a teenager. There was no need to portray false purity. Harry knew her past. As she unzipped his slacks and his boxer shorts tented in expectation, it was obvious he wasn’t deterred by her boldness.
Standing in only his boxers, Harry reached for Claire’s hands and helped her stand. With their chests once again touching, he whispered, “My turn.”
First uncertain, she then nodded, understanding his meaning. Slowly, he bent down and secured the hem of her silk gown. With painstaking patience he eased the soft fabric over her hips, torso, and breasts. Only the gasp that escaped his lips, as he uncovered her supple firm body, could be heard until he spoke with the raspy tenor of desire, “Lift your arms.” She acquiesced, and he eased the gown over her head, dropping it to the floor in a puddle of silk.
Harry’s smile made her feel sexy as she stood before him wearing only a small white pair of lacy panties. His eyes never left hers as he stepped toward her. Though his words directed her movements, his tone spoke with desire, “L
ie down.”
She stepped back, their eyes locked with need and gratification. Feeling the bed against her legs, she did as he bid. He gracefully followed her onto the soft mattress. His soft blue eyes danced with yearning. The emerald—blue contact ended as Claire’s eyes closed in response to Harry’s caresses. Next, his lips contacted her soft exposed skin, eliciting moans from deep inside of her. His kisses began at her cheeks, moved to her neck, shoulder, and down to her breasts.
Claire’s breathing labored at the feel of his fingers massaging the small white lace triangle and his tongue tantalizing her hard nipples. Her back arched toward his touch, and her fingers twisted his blonde hair. She pushed his shadowed stubbly chin against her throbbing breasts. The sensation overwhelmed her deprived senses. She craved more.
She kissed his head, tasted his shampoo, and inhaled his after shave. It’d been so long. Claire knew what she wanted, and the sexual assaults upon her electrified nerves made her patience dissolve. She wanted him—now.
Harry didn’t show the same urgency, patiently caressing, feeling and kneading her most sensitive areas. Though she pleaded for more, he continued his reverent worship. Between kisses he showered her with adoration and compliments, “You’re amazing.” “Your skin is so soft.” “I want you so much.” The longer he denied her, the more intense her desire. Never had a first time been so intense. Never had Claire been made to feel so adored.
Her body tensed when Harry asked if she was on the pill. It hadn’t occurred to her. The birth control insert that she had implanted long ago had passed its expiration. Thankfully, Harry was prepared. She didn’t question why he carried a condom. At the moment, her only reaction was relief. When they finally united, they were both hot with carnal longing.
Her dreams seemed real and exciting, but reality was magic. The undercurrent pulled her into Harry’s rhythm as her body moved in sync with his. In time, the current became a wave. Starting at her toes and moving north until it titillated the hairs of her scalp. She reached for his shoulders, arched her back, and unknowingly uttered a deep primal moan. The tidal wave took them all the way to a deserted exotic shore where he spoke the same primitive language.
Once the aftershocks calmed, she collapsed against Harry’s chest. It seemed almost incomprehensible to Claire, that after such a stressful evening she could feel so relaxed and content. Her eyes closed as the sound of his heart lulled her tranquil body toward sleep. Encircling her shoulder, he squeezed, momentarily waking her. She buried her face into his soft chest hairs and murmured, “I don’t know what this means for the future.” Enjoying his embrace, she added, “I really don’t know what I want this to mean. I’m not looking for forever, but thank you for tonight.”
He wrapped both arms around her, securing her gently to his chest. His voice made his chest vibrate against her cheek. “I don’t know about the future either.” He kissed her hair. “However, I don’t think I can look at you the same way in Amber’s kitchen, wearing those shorts you wear.” Claire lifted her eyes, sighing at his shy smile as he continued, “I mean, now that I know exactly what’s under the shorts and t-shirt.”
Claire shook her head. “Oh my, I hadn’t thought of that.” She let her hand trail over his pectoral muscles and down toward his waist. “I might just need to blush myself, knowing what’s hidden by those delicious ripped jeans you like to wear.”
“Delicious?”
“Hmm—mm,” she murmured, hearing his laugh.
Stroking her hair, his voice became more serious. “Honestly, I’m not looking for forever, either. But if we’re giving out thank yous, you should be on the receiving end.”
“I think I was.”
He chuckled, and went on, “I confess, I’ve been thinking about this since you bought your first cell phone.”
Claire lifted her head. This new position gave her visual access to his soft blue eyes. “What? My cell phone, why?”
Harry grinned, remembering the scene. “I didn’t know your story or even much about you. It just struck me as odd: you were so excited about a phone. I mean everyone has phones, yet you were almost giddy. I remember you looked like a kid at Christmas. At that moment, I fell head over heels for your excitement, enthusiasm, and innocence.”
Claire lowered her head to his chest. “Harry, don’t be deluded. I’m hardly innocent.”
He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. “I’m not deluding myself. Innocence refers to lack of guilt and pretense. While often reserved, you fit that description. You’re also very honest and naively trusting.” He rubbed his thumb over her chin and stared into her clouding eyes. “Those, too, are admirable qualities. Besides, I think you’ve given me a pretty complete bio. You deserve the same.” Claire tried to subdue a yawn, it was almost dawn. “And I’ll give it, another time. Right now, let me enjoy the moment.”
Claire nodded as she nestled her head once again upon his chest. “I’m rather enjoying it myself.” His arm tightened around her soft bare shoulder. For the first time in weeks, she fell into a sound dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Of all the animals, man is the only one that is cruel. He is the only one that inflicts pain for the pleasure of doing it.
—Mark Twain
Despite the rising outdoor temperature and humidity, the mansion remained cool—too cool. Marie longed for a momentary reprieve. Emotions were running too high. Sighing, she settled onto one of the comfortable lounge chairs Nathaniel had ordered to Sharron’s balcony and accepted the sun’s warmth on her upturned face. A slight breeze tempered the June rays as Marie inhaled the fresh country air. Sitting barefooted in a pair of shorts, she stretched her long legs out before her and attempted to read. Despite the lovely afternoon, concentration was difficult. After all, the doctor was completing his most recent examination of Sharron on one of his now daily trips to the estate. Since he usually had one or two nurses for assistance, Marie found it better to allow them their space. When he was done, he’d sit down with Marie and Ms. Amanda and give his daily report. Of course, if Nathaniel or Mr. Samuel were home, they too would be included in the conference. Although Marie knew Samuel and Amanda didn’t approve of her presence, she appreciated they’d momentarily quelled their objections.
Ms. Sharron continually outlived every prediction made by the physician, but as Marie listened to the monitors and witnessed her expressions, she knew Ms. Sharron was ready to go. The beautiful, elderly, and frail woman believed in a higher being, a merciful God, and a heavenly paradise. After spending over two years at the woman’s side, Marie believed Sharron refused passage due to an unseen binding, bound to this earth by the chains of love. The afterworld, full of beauty and peace, was waiting. She just needed to let herself go.
Some would call it cruel, but after careful consideration, Marie and Nathaniel decided to be honest with her. Although her eyes hadn’t registered any recollection in months and her mouth no longer spoke, there were times when holding her hand she’d momentarily squeeze theirs, in return. The physician explained this as mere muscle contractions. He reasoned emotional humans try to read meaning into scientific phenomenons, where in fact, there was none. Marie didn’t care about his explanation. She believed there were times that Sharron could hear, understand, and communicate any way possible.
They’d discussed their speech many times. These discussions occurred alone in Marie’s suite—usually in her bed. If Sharron wouldn’t leave this world because of her bond to Nathaniel, he needed to tell her to go. Not as he would dismiss a servant or an employee, but with love and understanding. He needed to explain, he wanted her suffering to stop, and he would survive. He would live again, and this was the part they debated—he was living again. Not only living; he was loving.
They both hoped the knowledge of Nathaniel’s new life and new love would allow Sharron the peace to cross over. She could go where her body once again worked, where she could smile, sing, and most importantly, where pain, physical and emotional, ceased to exist.<
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The opportunity came only two nights ago, sometime after midnight. They’d been sitting in the plush high backed chairs, talking about something from Nathaniel’s work when Marie noticed Sharron’s eyes flutter and her hands open and close. Silently, Marie approached the far side of Ms. Sharron’s bed; Nathaniel did the same on the near side. Without speaking, they created a circle. Marie remembered the warmth and strength coming from Nathaniel. It was such a stark contrast to the cool fragility of Sharron.
It was one of those instances in your life where time ceases to exist. When Marie’s gaze went from Sharron’s uncharacteristically clear and knowing eyes, to the dark intense stare of Nathaniel, she felt her heart break and swell. Was that how it happened? Similar to a turtle’s shell, it shatters before it can grow. The pain that no medicine could treat produced tears which unapologetically streamed from Marie’s eyes; however, it wasn’t until she saw the same moisture escape from the dark eyes of the man she loved, that she felt the impending sobs within her chest, threatening the loving silence which filled the room.
Marie knew it wasn’t her place to speak. Oh, she didn’t have a problem directing Nathaniel while alone, but this was his speech, and he needed to proceed at his own pace. It may be the only time she ever heard his voice crack, but she did. It was a gift few others receive, a forbidden view into his heart and soul.
“Sharron, it’s all right. I want you to let me go.” He continually exhaled at a seemingly disproportionate rate to the breaths he took in. Finally, he continued, “I love you. I will always love you, and I know you love me, but you need to move on, for you, for all of us. Samuel and Amanda will be all right. Anton will be fine.” More exhaling and inhaling. “And we will miss you, but we will survive.”
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