“Where is the original report?” Nathaniel bellowed. Immediately, Clawson pulled the requested pages from the cluttered table. The elder Rawls took the two reports and sat heavily at his desk. Page by page he compared the figures. Samuel and Clawson watched as the tips of Nathaniel’s lips moved from south to north. The telephone rang, breaking the silence. Instead of answering, Nathaniel hit the button on the intercom. “Connie, I said no calls!”
The voice from the box spoke apologetically, “I’m sorry, Mr. Rawls. It’s your personal line. I’ll take care of it.” Immediately, the ringing stopped.
The sight of Nathaniel’s smile had differing effects. Clawson resumed his leaned back position and lit another cigarette. Samuel leaned forward and held his head in his hands. Confronting his father in front of Clawson wasn’t a good idea, but it had to be done. This whole damn thing was getting out of hand.
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins;
itislessdifficulttoknowithasbegun. —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Chapter 23
His head rested on his arm as he listened to her breathing and watched her sleep. The discussion in his head had raged for hours. Sensing her warmth, inhaling her scent, and wanting to taste her lips . . . the voice of love was prevailing.
Claire floated in that place before consciousness, having difficulty distinguishing reality from fantasy, unsure what she was feeling. The epiphany came in the realization she was . . . feeling. It had been so long since she felt anything. She was feeling warm, good, safe. Her mind tried to convince her it was a dream, but she remembered feeling that way before she fell asleep. She questioned herself, Is this real? Her soft skin rolled on the silky sheets, felt radiating warmth. Hesitantly, she slowly opened her eyes. Right in front of her, close enough to touch, was Tony’s firm broad chest. Again, the questions. Is he really here? He usually left her bed before she woke. Why is he still here? Now as Claire rolled onto her back and saw the beautiful ornate ceiling she wondered, Where is here? This isn’t my room.
With a rich raspy tone, he greeted her, “Good morning, Claire.” His smile revealed the winner of his internal monologue; adoration and love showed through. He leaned down to kiss her head.
“Good morning, what are you doing still in bed?” The room was quite dark. “Or is it early? It is so dark.” The eyes that watched her weren’t.
“I have been watching you sleep.” He slid his arm under her back, placing her head upon his shoulder. His aroma was exhilarating. His hard strong shoulder made the perfect pillow as his arm gently surrounded her warm body.
“Why would you do that? I need a shower and probably look awful.” She buried her face into his chest, allowing his hairs to tickle her cheeks. She inhaled deeply.
He took her chin and turned her face toward his, gently kissing her lips. “I have been watching you because you are so beautiful. Your face is flawless.” Claire tried to look away from his eyes. They were light, honest, and real. The candidness made her uneasy. “Please don’t look away. I see you now and think about what your face looked like, what I did to you. I am not going to keep bringing this up, but I want you to know how much I regret it. And how amazing I think you are. You went through so much. I don’t want anything like that to ever happen again.”
She couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks. She wanted to hide her face, but he held her chin firmly. “Tony, I am glad to know you are sorry. I am sorry too.” He let go of her chin, but she continued watching him as she spoke. “I am sorry about Meredith. I really didn’t say anything to her. She walked up and recognized me. Like the article said, we were sorority sisters. I never suspected that she was a reporter. She asked if she could join me. I didn’t want her to, I thought about your rules, but then I thought about appearances and I decided telling her no would be rude. I am sorry I made the wrong decision.”
He rolled her over onto her back. The skin of his chest pressed against her bare breasts. Looking up into his face she saw his eyes darken only slightly. His features looked like those of a model, prominent cheek bones and strong jaw line. His gaze went on for an eternity before he finally spoke. “I can’t promise I will never get upset. I can probably promise I will. However, I promise I will do my best to never hurt you like that again. But I need something from you.”
She assumed it involved gratification and she didn’t mind. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to make me a promise.” Claire raised her eyebrows as if to ask him to continue. “A promise that you will do your best to follow my rules, that you will do your best to never give me cause to hurt you again.”
“Tony, I promise I will do my best to make you proud. And I accept your apology. You do not need to keep apologizing.”
Looking at his expression she read a mixture of emotions: gratitude, adoration, and relief. “Have I told you how amazing you are? I’ve watched you and Dr. Leonard fifty times. You were in such pain. God, even water made you sick. Yet you were perfect and made me so proud. I listened to your answers over and over. I understand his concern. Our story didn’t hold water. I was just so worried about you, lying on the floor and I couldn’t get you to wake up. I had to get you some medical help. I was upset about what I thought you’d done. The longer I waited for you to get home that night, the more betrayed I felt, I lost control.” Claire saw such honesty in his eyes. It was like a window that exposed his soul, one she didn’t think he allowed many people to see. “When you quit moving I realized what happened and I became more upset about what I had done. Suddenly, getting you help was more important than appearances.” He gently smoothed her hair. “You had the chance to tell someone about me and what I did. I deserved that and more. But no, even in your condition you were perfect.”
He lowered his face to her collar bone. She could feel this rough beard growth on her skin. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but . . .” looking again into her emerald eyes, “thank you for giving it to me.”
He started to kiss her. Her body responded, but her mind thought about the cameras and surveillance. She knew they were there. Compartmentalize. She had a lot to put away. She needed bigger compartments.
She could feel his hardness on her leg. He kissed his way down her neck to her collar bone, her breasts pressed upward in anticipation of his mouth. Her nipples hardened as his lips lightly brushed their tips. She tried to suppress her heated desires. It was her turn to ask for a favor. “Tony, while we are asking for things, can I have something from you?”
“I have something for you right now,” he said between kisses and inching his way down her body, gently moving her legs.
“And I want that.” Claire smiled as she lifted her head to catch his eyes. “But first, can I have a promise?” Tony moved up, kissed her lips, and asked what she wanted him to promise. “You were right, there was pain. But what haunted me for two months was the threat of you locking me in my suite. Please don’t use my honesty against me. I don’t want to be locked up alone again. It was unbearable. I know you don’t have to, but I am asking you . . . please promise me you will never do that to me again.”
“Claire, I promise I will not lock you in your suite again. And if we each keep our promises, maintaining them all will be easier.”