Behind His Eyes - Truth: Reading Companion to the Bestselling Consequences Series

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Behind His Eyes - Truth: Reading Companion to the Bestselling Consequences Series Page 11

by Aleatha Romig


  Only her head moved as she shook it slightly from side to side.

  “Dinner will be starting downstairs in about an hour. Have you eaten recently?”

  Claire’s cheeks were flushed as she looked up. “No, I-I haven’t. I don’t want to go down there with you.” Her strength seemed to be returning. “I’m here for SiJo, for Amber and Simon.”

  Harshness returned. “Then you’ll do as I say.”

  Lowering her head once again to her lap, she obediently replied, “What do you want me to do?”

  Tony closed his eyes. With his plans blowing up right and left, her response was exactly what he needed to hear. He touched her knee. “Claire, what the hell was that? Are you sick?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not ill. I’m sick of this. Please, just tell me what you want me to do so that I can help my friends and go home.”

  Tony clenched his jaw and exhaled. “I’m ordering you some food. After you feel better we’ll discuss your duties.”

  Exceptional service was only one of the perks associated with the presidential suite. In no time at all, Claire had a plate of crackers, cheese, and fruit as well as a soda to calm her stomach. Tony waited. When she seemed steadier, he asked for her purse. The last thing he wanted was her calling for reinforcements. This night would be about the two of them. Thankfully, she didn’t protest. He immediately removed her iPhone, turned it off, and placed it in the breast pocket of his shirt. Next, he began searching each compartment and found only cosmetics and tissues.

  Claire asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “Your work phone.”

  “It isn’t here; I left it in my condo.”

  From what he could see, she was telling the truth. He glanced at his watch; still no word on Sophia, but he needed to get things moving. “As you may remember, while at a function such as this, your attention should be on me and your duties at hand. I believe tonight you’re representing SiJo Gaming. As well as representing it to the masses downstairs, your behavior will go a long way in solving their current situation, or,” he paused, “making it public.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m glad you do. You’ll get your phone back when this evening is done. I believe you’ll have enough on your plate, and you don’t need another distraction.”

  Tony then handed Claire the news release.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s a new release. My press secretary released it moments before you arrived to the penthouse.” Smiling, he added, “I just saw a text from Shelly; it’s already viral.”

  He watched as Claire read. After she’d finished, she looked up at him; her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “W-why? Why are you doing this?”

  Tony explained, “I’ve tried to express my feelings for you. I’ve even apologized for past behaviors and attempted to explain, yet you blatantly flaunt another man at a shared function.”

  “I was not flaunting. We—you and I—are divorced. This…” she picked up the news release, “…is false. You didn’t secure my pardon. You had nothing to do with it.”

  “And who’s going to refute my claim?” Tony replied confidently. “Governor Bosley? No, he’s dead. Jane Allyson? I think not.”

  “Why, Tony? What have you done to Jane?”

  He made no attempt to suppress his grin. “Again, so much credit, I should be honored.”

  Claire stood and her words slowed. “Tell me what you’ve done.”

  “While I may be able to assume some responsibility, it’s quite the opposite of what you suspect. Miss Allyson is currently enjoying the honor of an invitation to one of the most prestigious law firms in Des Moines.” His phone buzzed. Tony read the text from Eric.

  “MS. BURKE AND MR. GEORGE ARE WITH ME IN THE SUITE.”

  He sighed in relief. “Now, as informative as this conversation has been, we can continue it later. It’s almost 8:00 PM. As you know, this gala started an hour ago. You may remember—I do not like to be late.”

  With Sophia securely out of the way, Tony took a step back and evaluated the woman before him. The food and drink had returned the color to her cheeks. His words may be misconstrued as condescending, but his tone bordered on sultry. “My, Claire, you do look lovely. I admit I doubted your financial ability to dress as would warrant my companion for the evening. There’s a complete ensemble in the master suite for you, but I like your choice.” Scanning her from head to toe, he stepped toward her and lifted the pearl of her grandmother’s necklace. Grinning in anticipation, he continued, “Yes, after you touch up your makeup, I believe we’ll be ready to attend our reunion gala.” Gently dropping the cream-colored pearl, he softly brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. Bogus empathy dripped from his words. “Don’t look so strained, my dear, this is a happy occasion. You wanted our dinner public, so your wish is my command. Besides, you came here to represent SiJo Gaming. I promise this will bring that small company more publicity and positive public relations than would have originally happened.” Reaching for her small hand, he assured her. “This is a win win.”

  Her lips pressed together as Tony basked in the fire burning before him. He could gaze upon it for hours, but they had a gala to attend. With her neck straight, Claire asked, “Where can I get ready?”

  “The master suite is upstairs. Let me show you the way.” Tony wasn’t sure of the exact cause. Perhaps it was that Eric had Sophia secured away from the festivities, or maybe it was Claire’s appropriate behavior; whatever the cause, his night, as well as his demeanor, was improving.

  To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has done, but at what he aspires to do.

  —Kahlil Gibran

  Claire was absolutely lovely as she stepped from the master bath. Her green dress accentuated her eyes, and ringlets of hair brushed her proud neck. “You are beautiful, my dear.”

  She exhaled and placed her hand in the bend of Tony’s elbow. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He stilled their steps. “Claire, perhaps a review is in order. It has been a while.” Her eyes narrowed, but he continued, “I expect you to follow my rules this evening. If you’re to assure SiJo’s recovery from their current problem, you’ll remember that as my companion, I expect you to do as I say and that public failure is not an option. If you have something to say, get it out now. Once we are at that gala, any misconstrued comment could have far-reaching consequences.”

  The fire that had been smoldering blazed with new intensity. She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I assure you that I remember your rules, but if you want me to get it out, then here it is. You’re a heartless bastard. This is blackmail and I’m angry at myself for letting this happen.”

  He laughed. “There, now we can proceed.”

  Just before they entered the golden elevator, Tony lowered his lips to Claire’s ear. Inhaling her perfume and sweet scent, he whispered, “You needn’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have stopped this if you’d tried. Let this heartless bastard take all the blame.” The pools of emerald mellowed beneath his amused gaze. Claire needed to hear—to know—that she couldn’t have stopped it. He grinned, knowing that he could’ve eased her mind more by letting her know that the problem at SiJo was now fixed and no damage had occurred. Of course, he didn’t. That tidbit of information could wait.

  Except for a private whisper now and then, Claire performed beautifully. Murmurs and gasps at the news of their reunification rippled throughout the ballroom like waves from a rock shattering the glassy surface of her lake. She smiled and spoke with confidence. Even when Tony spent a few extra minutes with Derek Burke, Claire stayed steadfast. Since Claire was supposed to have been brought to him before she hand a chance to mingle, Tony wasn’t happy to learn that she’d already met the Cunninghams; however, her warning was not only helpful, but refreshing.

  It wasn’t until after his keynote speech that Tony saw what he didn’t know he’d sought. It was a look, a stare, something in Claire’s ex
pression. Tony couldn’t describe it, yet it was there. He hadn’t seen it in years, but he recognized it immediately. As he resumed his seat, he reached for Claire’s hand and gently lifted it from her lap. This time, his touch wasn’t meant as a warning; instead, he intended affection as he lowered his head and brushed her knuckles with a soft sweep of his lips, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on hers. Claire’s cheeks blushed as her smile broadened.

  Quietly, she whispered, “Very nice speech, Mr. Rawlings.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ms. Nichols, you’re mighty remarkable yourself.”

  Someone else was now speaking from the podium; their voices were a faint whisper against the sound from the nearby speaker. Claire raised her eyebrows and asked, “Mighty?”

  It was a word Nathaniel had used, reserved for only the truly special people in his life. Perhaps that was what Tony was missing from his envelope. No, she hadn’t been missing, only misplaced, and now she was with him. Although he’d never used that word before, it felt right. Gently squeezing her hand, he repeated, “Mighty.”

  They both smiled and turned to listen to the next orator, a woman from the Center for Learning Disabilities who was thanking the audience for their support. When the final speaker concluded, the emcee from earlier came to the podium and announced, “Ladies and gentleman, the orchestra will be in place soon. If everyone could please make their way out to the atrium, dancing will commence in less than half an hour.”

  “Are we staying for dancing?” Claire asked quietly.

  His eyebrows rose. “Do you want to dance?”

  “No, I really don’t; I’m tired, and I’d like to go home. If I could have my phone, I’ll call for the SiJo car.”

  Tony leaned back against his chair. He wasn’t ready for this evening to end. He sure as hell didn’t want to send her back to Palo Alto—to him. Roach had been keeping tabs on Baldwin, and Tony knew from a series of text messages that Baldwin had started to drive toward San Francisco but turned around and was now at his condominium in Palo Alto. Although Tony wasn’t sure what made Baldwin turn around; he smugly assumed it was the press release.

  Claire leaned in close—too close. Her smile was too large, as threatening tears perched precariously on her lower lids. With a faint crack in her voice, she asked, “Have I done everything you asked?”

  “Yes,” Tony replied honestly. “But I want more.”

  “Please, I’m tired.”

  He broadened his grin. “Then perhaps you should go to bed.”

  Though her expression remained flawless to a bystander, Tony saw the recognition of his innuendo in her green eyes. “I’m not agreeing to sleep with you.”

  “Sleeping, my dear, was not what I had in mind.”

  After a moment of collection, she replied. “I will go upstairs with you; I will complete this scenario; however, I will not have sex with you.”

  “Why do you fight it?” Pushing her in public was not his plan. Truthfully, neither was sex, although he wasn’t opposed to changing his plans.

  “May we please go upstairs? This conversation is upsetting me. If you want to maintain this charade, we’d better leave while I can maintain a smile.”

  Knowing that she was right, Tony stood and offered Claire his hand. “Ms. Nichols, shall we bid our adieus to the appropriate people?”

  “Yes, Mr. Rawlings. I’m so ready to close the curtain on this performance.”

  As she stood, he whispered, “The press release is viral. This, my love, was only the first act.”

  When they finally reached the golden elevator, Tony removed his phone and sent Eric a text.

  “WE HAVE LEFT THE GALA. ALLOW SOPHIA TO RETURN.”

  Claire broke the silence as they exited the elevator to the penthouse. “May I have my phone?”

  Tony looked at his watch, 10:17 PM. “My dear, the night is still young.” When she didn’t respond, Tony removed her cell phone from his breast pocket. It never occurred to him that she might take the phone and walk away; he’d always listened to her calls. Once she turned it on, the small device vibrated with an onslaught of messages. No doubt the world outside their bubble had seen the news release. Instead of checking her messages, Claire called for the SiJo car. He faintly heard the driver through her phone.

  “Hello, Marcus, yes, this is Claire Nichols—”

  Tony changed his mind. He wasn’t ready for the evening to be over. Taking her phone from her hand, he stilled her words and interrupted her conversation. “Hello, Marcus. Ms. Nichols will not need your assistance this evening.”

  “Umm, excuse me. Who is this?” Marcus replied.

  “This is Anthony Rawlings.”

  “Oh, okay? Oh! Mr. Rawlings.”

  “That is correct.”

  “So, Ms. Nichols is done with the car for tonight?”

  “Yes, you are relieved of your assignment.”

  “Okay. I’ll head back to Palo Alto.”

  “Thank you, good-night.” Glancing at the number of messages on her screen, Tony once again turned off her phone and returned it to his pocket.

  He watched as Claire walked to a sofa and sat. Momentarily, defeat hung around her like a cloud. Tears coated her cheeks as her emerald eyes met his. Tony didn’t want this. He didn’t want to see her defeated. It was that the evening had been remarkable. Having her next to him, even the clandestine retorts—all of it was invigorating.

  Then it happened, right before his eyes. Claire shifted, sat taller, and asked, “What do I need to do to leave?”

  Relieved by her forwardness, he sat beside her and softened his voice, “Eric will take you home whenever you want. You may leave at any time.”

  “Then I want to leave now.”

  Of course she did. Why would she not? He was a heartless bastard in her eyes. If only he could make her see that she was right—before, but not now. Now, he knew that his heart beat for one reason. It had stopped when she left him—literally. The reason it restarted was sitting beside him. Solemnly, he nodded and removed his phone. He’d call Eric and send her on her way.

  Her soft tone stilled his movements. “Tony?” her voice quivered with concern. “Is SiJo secure? Did they get their problem fixed?”

  He placed his phone back in his pocket and ignoring her question, asked his own, “Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking about all night?” He’d been honest in San Diego. Catherine’s box was about disclosure. Surprisingly, there was a strange sense of relief that came with each admission; Tony yearned to tell Claire more. Never could he remember having the desire to share such intimate thoughts with anyone.

  She shook her head. “What you’ve been thinking about? All right, tell me.”

  “Many things. The first—how amazing you’ve been.” Excitement infiltrated his words. “I’ve endured many companions since our divorce, but I haven’t enjoyed any of those evenings as much as I have tonight, being with you. Shelly wasn’t happy with my desired press release, but I decided it was the only answer. Now the world knows of our reconciliation. It’s official.”

  “You say that as if it’s beyond debate.”

  His brows furrowed. “Beyond challenge—it’s public.”

  “SiJo?” she asked.

  “The breach has been resolved. It has been since about 8:00 PM this evening.”

  Claire sighed. “Thank you.”

  He smiled at her relief. Perhaps he should leave this night here. She was happy. “Actually,” he said, “I’ll have Eric take you to your condominium. It’s probably better if you don’t know what else I’ve been pondering.”

  “Thank you again. I’m ready to leave.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. This was better.

  Then, without warning, she took his hand and asked, “What else have you been thinking?”

  Her pools of emerald concern washed away his doubt. He’d be honest. “Those black lacy panties.”

  Claire stood abruptly. “What did you say?”

  His cheeks rose. “I’ve been thin
king about your black lace underwear; there was a small bow.” His smile turned sensual. “I’ve been wondering what color you’re wearing tonight.”

  Her voice resonated an octave higher. “How do you know about black lace panties?”

  Tony stood, grasped her shoulders, colliding their chests as his breath quickened. “Why can’t you believe that I still love you?”

  “Really? You want me to believe you still love me? After an entire night of blackmailing me into being your companion, threatening my friend’s company with disaster, and now learning that you… that you…” Her body trembled, tears once again flowed, and her voice broke, becoming a mere whisper. “…raped me.”

  The floor was once again falling. “No, Claire.” Pleading laced his command. “Don’t even suggest that.” Lifting her chin, he searched her eyes. She’d talked about a dream, but she knew it was real as well as he did. “You agreed to everything. You more than consented: you wanted it as much as I did.” When he released her chin, she didn’t pull away; instead, her cheek settled against his chest as she wobbled in his arms. Tony kissed the top of her head and scooped her up into his arms.

  “No, Tony, not tonight.”

  “I’m putting you on the sofa. You’re about to fall.”

  She nodded against the silk of his shirt. Together, they sat on a large white sofa, facing the tall windows. Claire removed her high heels and curled her legs onto the plush cushions. With his arm around her shoulder she fit perfectly against his side. The scent of her perfume wafted through the silent air. The scene of the Golden Gate Bridge through the windows was stunning. Tony’s mind replayed vistas they’d shared: the beaches of Fiji, the mountains of Tahoe, and even the view from her suite in Iowa. How many hours had they spent silently enjoying the beauty that he never noticed without her?

  Tony wanted this to go on forever, to forget their past and the vendetta. He wanted to keep her exactly like this. Didn’t Anthony Rawlings usually get what he wanted? But he knew that it would never be right if it were forced. With a deep sigh, Tony broke the spell. “Are you ready for me to call Eric?”

 

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