Tony removed his iPhone from his pocket. “I have her number.”
Claire eyed him suspiciously. “How do you have her number? And now that I’m thinking about it, how did you have Harry’s?”
He looked down. “Before I answer, you must admit the information was useful.”
“Yes, I admit that. How?”
He handed her his phone. Meredith Banks was on the screen. “You just need to hit CALL.”
“I know how to use a phone. Thank you.” She waited. She remembered how Tony didn’t like asking the same question more than once; understanding the sentiment, she continued to stare.
“The night of the gala, I copied your contacts.”
Claire shook her head and hit CALL. While she spoke to Meredith another orderly entered her room with another bouquet of flowers. Tony accepted the arrangement and sat it on the large window ledge. He reached for the card and began to carry it to Claire. Suddenly, he stopped. Claire watched as he opened the envelope, and the color drained from his face. She wondered if it were from Harry.
“Thank you, Meredith, our agreement is still intact. Yes, I’m fine. This had nothing to do with Tony. I need to go. Thank you, goodbye.” She disconnected the call. “Tony what is it?”
He hesitated. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He started to leave her room with the card.
“No, you don’t.” Her voice rose. “Show me that card.”
When he turned toward her, his expression was scarier than she’d seen in years. “Claire, you and our baby do not need to be concerned. I’ll find out who is responsible for this, and by the way, we are talking to your doctor about a referral for Iowa City. You’re moving home as soon as you’re released.”
She didn’t want to argue. It wasn’t just his expression, the darkness of his eyes, or the determined tone. She saw fear masked under his sudden fury. “Tony.” She spoke softly. “Please let me see the card. I’m not arguing. I need to know what I need to do to protect our baby.”
Slowly, he walked toward her. His furrowed brow and intense glare revealed his conflicting emotions.
Claire pleaded, “I know you want to protect me, but you have to let me protect me.”
He handed her the card, and she read the envelope: Claire Nichols Rawls. The air left her lungs. She opened the envelope and read the note:
I’ve learnt that you are well… But now, there’s another body to add to the count…
“What does that mean?” she asked, as the fear she felt Sunday night returned.
“I don’t know, but you’re coming home with me.”
Claire nodded.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Trouble is part of your life. If you don’t share it, you don’t give the person who loves you a chance to love you enough.
—Dinah Shore
Late Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Sizemore released Claire from the hospital and gave her a referral to Iowa City. Tony wanted to drive her directly to the airport; however, Claire convinced him to take her back to her condominium and pack some of her things. She didn’t know if her trip to Iowa was for a week, a month, or forever.
Entering her bedroom, the sight of her things strewn across the room and drawers emptied all over the floor, paralyzed her movement. Her knees weakened as Tony’s strong embrace steadied her. Together, they worked to right the mess.
When they finally had her room almost in order, building security called. There was a package waiting downstairs for Claire. They wanted to confirm her presence before bringing it to her unit. Leaving Tony in her room, she went to the door and greeted the security guard with the potted plant. It wasn’t the same man who saved her, but everyone within the Forest Avenue Condominium knew what had transpired.
“Ms. Nichols, we’re all so glad you’re safe.”
“Thank you.”
“Here’s your delivery. Obviously, lots of people are worried about you.” The young man handed her the plastic wrapped arrangement and scanned the envelope. “This is you, right?”
Claire read the card: Claire Nichols Rawls.
Feeling suddenly faint, she called for Tony. He immediately appeared by her side, took the card, saw the name, and rudely ordered, “Take this away!”
Claire didn’t have the presence of mind or words to mend Tony’s negativity. Instead, she merely nodded. The guard apologized and left with the plant.
Tony opened the envelope—nothing… not even a card within. “I’ll find out who’s doing this, I promise.”
Tony meant every word as he waited for Claire’s response. After a moment, she stood straighter and nodded. Although he admired her strength, watching her hold back tears was all most too much. As she began to walk past him toward her room, Tony seized her arm and stopped her movement. Claire looked up at him indignantly. His voice echoed against the long hallway and wooden floors, “You are not staying here another night.”
Despite the sound to the contrary, Tony was executing all the self-restraint he possibly could. Claire’s bruise-covered face and pained expression had him on the edge of sanity. His proclamation wasn’t a debatable statement. Thankfully, Claire understood.
She nodded, and replied, “I know. I want to pack.”
He released her arm. “While you do, I’ll make some calls. May I go into the living room?”
“Yes, Amber knows we’re here. She’s giving us space.”
“She doesn’t want to see me.” His statement wasn’t judgmental—just a statement.
Either way, he was right. Both about Amber purposely avoiding the condominium and about Claire leaving California. Amber wasn’t the only one opposed to Claire’s decisions. Emily repeatedly chided her, John avoided her at all costs, and Claire hadn’t spoken to Harry since the hospital room.
Nevertheless, with the recent turn of events, Tony’s estate seemed much safer than California, even if temporarily. Claire packed while Tony made calls. His efforts were rewarded as he learned: the flowers and plant came from two separate florists. One was ordered over the telephone, the other over the internet. The caller ordering the flowers claimed to be Mrs. Rawls and used a purchased credit card, the kind available at any retailer across the country. The internet order appeared to be made by Claire herself; all the information entered into the order form was hers. It was also purchased with the same type of credit card, but from a different retailer. Tony also had people working to track the origin of the credit cards and someone checking the fingerprint of the computer placing the internet order.
Claire didn’t understand it all, but if it led Tony to the person sending the threatening gifts, she was all for it.
Although Tony repeatedly told Claire she didn’t need any of her clothes or anything that wasn’t of emotional value, she packed as much as her luggage would hold. Her belongings were the things she’d accumulated on her own; everything from her plethora of lingerie to the flip-flops she wore on the beach with Courtney. It all meant something. Securing her jewelry in a small velvet bag, she fingered her new diamond stud earrings. Admittedly, they weren’t as large as the ones she sold, but they were hers, bought by her. She didn’t want to part with anything.
Claire struggled with her research. Even though her laptop was still missing, she had hard copies of everything. Did she want to take all of that to Tony’s? Claire decided she should. She didn’t know who to believe or who to trust. What if someone used her information to hurt Tony? It was safer with her.
By the time Claire finished packing, it was late, and she was tired.
Tony conceded, “We can spend the night in Palo Alto at my hotel. Tomorrow, we’ll come back for your things and leave for Iowa.” Claire agreed. There was no need for debate. Every time she walked into the living room, in her mind, she saw Patrick Chester.
As she settled into the passenger seat of his rental car, exhaustion hit. By the time they arrived at the Marriott where he’d rented the Presidential Suite, Claire was sound asleep. Tony’s words woke her gently as he opened the door and kissed
her cheek, “I’d gladly carry you to my suite, but I’m afraid we’d attract more attention than either of us wants.”
Despite the stress of the day and of the past few days, his sensitive smile and tender tone made her anxious expression morph into a smile. “I’m pretty sure I can walk.” Sorely, she stood and melted against his chest. “I could do this alone, but I’m so thankful I don’t have to.” She brushed her lips against his. “Thank you.”
When they reached the suite, Claire looked around at the modern furnishings and beautiful view. The living room had lovely glass doors leading to a balcony, an archway leading to a dining room, and a doorway she assumed lead to a bedroom.
Tony offered, “Perhaps we should order some food?”
“I just want a shower and some sleep,” Claire said as she walked toward the bedroom.
The warm water assaulted her bruised skin , yet felt refreshing at the same time. She towel dried and combed her hair and brushed her teeth. If they could share a bed and a baby—why not a toothbrush? She turned off the lights and settled into the large king-sized bed, wearing one of Tony’s t-shirts.
Claire had seen her reflection in the bathroom mirror and didn’t want Tony to see the large bruises on her ribs. Although sleep loomed, she yearned to feel his embrace. The last few days had left her anxious, and surprisingly, Tony’s presence reassured her. Closing her eyes, she realized how safe she felt near him. Thinking about the stories she’d recently recounted to Meredith, Claire knew that hadn’t always been the case, but now, she longed for his presence.
As she was about to drift away, she heard a knock at the door. Claire assumed Tony must have ordered dinner. She rolled over, wincing from her sore ribs, cradled a pillow, and drifted away.
Sometime later, Claire woke with a start. She’d been dreaming, no, not dreaming—it was a nightmare: darkness, Chester, gun shots… She reached for Tony, but his side of the bed was cool.
His t-shirt fell to her thighs as she quietly walked toward the living room. Her bare feet silently made their way down the hall. In the near darkness, she saw the back of Tony’s head, bobbing in silence. The sofa where he sat was made up like a bed, complete with sheets, blankets, and pillows.
Claire walked around the sofa and met his gaze. “Tony? Are you all right?”
She saw the amber liquid in his glass, his vacant expression, and smelled the bourbon in the air. After his dark eyes looked her up and down, he finally replied, “No.”
“What’s this?” She motioned toward the sofa. “Why aren’t you in bed with me?”
“I don’t trust myself.”
Claire tilted her head sideways. “I trust you…”
His stare looked through her. “I went in there and kissed you. You were sound asleep.” Claire smiled, then he continued, “I watched you, saw your expression and your bruises.” Claire flinched; she didn’t like her appearance. He grasped her dangling hand. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“You’re beautiful!”
She pulled her hand away. “I’ve seen myself in the mirror. Beautiful isn’t the word I’d use.”
Tony leaned back and rubbed his face. With a new focus, he demanded, “Take off my t-shirt.”
Claire stood taller. Her chin rose indignantly. “Excuse me?”
He stood. His body towered over her as his voice hardened, “Take off my shirt.”
“Tony, I didn’t bring any night clothes. I didn’t think you’d—”
“I don’t give a damn about the shirt. I want to see you.”
Claire stammered. It had been a while since she’d experienced this domineering personality. “S-See me?”
“I can see your face and your legs. I want to see what that bastard did to you.”
She reached for his hand and kept her voice steady, “I’m fine, but I want you to come to bed with me.”
His stoic expression remained. “I planned to call for dinner. Instead, I found the bar. It’s been a rather stressful few days.” Claire inched closer. His sudden grasp on her shoulders stopped her progress. “I should never have let you return to California.” Shaking his head, he released her and stepped backward. In a tone she remembered, he commanded, “I believe I’ve said this more than once. Take off the damn t-shirt.”
Her innate training prevailed; disobeying wasn’t an option. She reached for the hem. Trembling, she lifted the cotton above her head and exposed her battered body, covered only by a pair of flesh-colored lace panties.
His hardened expression continued in silence. Her trembling continued. Suddenly, he fell to his knees and gently clutched her hips. His lips gently brushed her stomach and tenderly caressed her battered mid-section. The domineering voice disappeared; his actions spoke of love and possession. Holding his head for support, her fingers wove through his hair. Claire whispered, “Please, Tony, please, can we go to bed?”
His lips continued to caress her bruised body. Each kiss stilled the trembling, electrified her skin, and melted her insides until her legs turned to jelly. When her knees buckled, she knelt before him, meeting his eyes.
“You’re mine.” His words weren’t debatable. He wasn’t asking.
“Tony, bed… please?”
“I’m trying so hard. You have no idea the restraint I’m enlisting, yet all I can think about are his hands on you.”
“Tony, I’m fine. I’m all right. I’m with you.”
“But you weren’t. You were with him.”
“He just wanted your money—”
Tony clutched her frame. His dark eyes burned with desire and despair. “I’m not talking about Chester.”
Claire froze with her heart pounding frantically in her chest. Somewhere deep, she knew the scene at the hospital went too well. She framed Tony’s face and watched as he searched her emerald eyes. With all her might, she tried to keep them subdued. “I wasn’t with you,” she whispered. “We weren’t together.”
His loud visceral response was unreadable.
“But now…” Her lips touched his. “Now, I want to be. Please, Tony.”
One of the hands, which held her waist now roughly seized her loose, damp hair, pulling her head back, and exposing her slender neck. His lips met the soft skin with equal force. A shocked moan escaped her lips. Tony’s unbridled passion ignited her, creating a sudden rush of heat overpowering any impulses of pain crying out from her tender scalp. His rough stubble scratched her collar bone, and his voice resonated throughout the suite like a low growl, “Are you sure?”
The fervent lust tightened her insides. Momentarily, speech was lost. Finally, she whimpered, “I am.”
He continued his unrelenting assault, holding her tighter, wildly claiming everything before him. His fire consumed everything in its path, a passion which held no bounds. Claire never felt so desired; her whole body ached for his touch. When he paused, she saw the flames in his dark eyes. The inferno wasn’t frightening; it fueled her desire. His low growl became more demanding, “You are mine.”
She kissed his stubbly neck, hearing, as well as feeling, a rumble from the back of his throat. Once again, he pulled her hair, tipped her head, and bathed her in the aroma of whiskey. His glaring abyss penetrated as he demanded, “Say it!”
Her emerald eyes begged for understanding, uncertain of what he wanted.
“Say you are mine and nobody else’s.”
Despite his command and her powerful yearning, Claire’s eyes shone. Her voice resonated above his growl, “Yes, Tony, you are mine and nobody else’s.”
She watched. A spark penetrated his dark gaze. A flash of light where only moments before darkness prevailed. Through the crack in his facade of domination, he responded. It began as a whisper and rose in volume. “Yes. Mighty fine and sexy as hell.” Claiming her lips, he added, “And mine!”
Suddenly, he stood, seized her wrist, and pulled her up toward the bedroom. Before she could comment, the world shifted, and she was upon the king-sized bed. His hungry mouth on hers made protestin
g impossible. Truly, it wasn’t her plan.
Once her breathing became labored, he moved to the end of the bed. Beginning at her ankles, he worked his way toward her injuries. Each touch released energy, freed aggression, and exposed affection. If she winced, he caressed. If she moaned, he encouraged. With each kiss, each touch, Tony reminded Claire of her desires. The outside world was lost… gone beyond comprehension. He elicited thoughts and desires she’d compartmentalized away. His lips found places she’d abandoned. His teeth nipped at nubs, which yearned for attention. His long, talented fingers and skillful tongue probed and tantalized. Within no time, Claire found herself begging for mercy, pleading for more at the same time.
It was different than the day in the condo or from her visit to Iowa. It was different than ever before. This was deep, raw, and primal—unbridled carnal passion. While it started with possession, its culmination was unification and reconciliation. Tony began this ecstasy, but Claire met him move for move. Truthfully, she didn’t like the reports of him with other women either. The handsome, possessive, domineering, and loving man before her was hers, and although she wasn’t ready to commit, she wanted everything he offered.
When they finally submitted to sleep, no desire was left unfulfilled.
The next morning, at Amber’s condo, they were met by a crew of men to carry her belongings from the fourth floor to a waiting van and from the van to his private jet. While the men moved her things, Claire’s mail arrived.
If she hadn’t already been frightened into moving to Iowa, the package she received would have pushed her over the edge. It was a large, light, thick, and soft manila envelope addressed in handwriting Claire didn’t recognize, with no return address. She didn’t want to seem paranoid; after all, it was addressed to: Claire Nichols. Nevertheless, when she opened the envelope and a small yellow layette fell to the floor with a note which simply read:
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 110