Behind His Eyes - Truth (19 page)

Memories of them in that bed swirled through his consciousness as he moved closer. With each step, he said her name, “Claire.” He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, although
that
impression was paramount in his mind. She was a vision of peacefulness. “Claire—Claire, you need to wake. We’re supposed to be at Tim and Sue’s in an hour.” Approaching the bed, her serene expression transfixed him. Hoping not to startle her, he spoke louder, “Claire? Claire?” Partially out of necessity, but more out of desire, Tony touched her exposed shoulder. “Claire?”

She began to stir. His fingers purposely grazed the light blue satin bra strap. The allure of moving the covers and discovering the remainder of her attire was almost irresistible. Tony wondered if she could possibly be wearing matching light blue panties.

Suddenly, her eyes opened wide as she sat up and pulled the blankets around her body. “Tony! What are you doing in here? You promised!”

He chuckled at her modesty. “I promised a lock, but the door wasn’t locked. I knocked multiple times. You must have been very tired.”

The alarm that was evident only moments ago dissipated into her beautiful pools of emerald. Even her tone eased. “I think I was. I have that jittery, just-awakened feeling.” Her long brown hair fell in waves around her beautiful face as she sighed and laid her head back upon the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty, and we need to be at Tim and Sue’s in an hour.” As if his feet were blocks of concrete, he stood statuesque, transfixed by her presence.

“Well,” she quipped, “if you’re going to stand there, then go find me a robe so that I can get ready.”

Slowly, willing his feet to move, Tony walked to her dressing room. Since she’d refused his credit card, he asked his personal shopper to supply a wardrobe for her to access in Iowa. Turning on the light, he saw a long pink robe. No doubt, that was what she had in mind; however, Tony knew there were other items of lingerie. If he found the right one, he might learn the answer to his burning blue-panties question.

When he emerged, he held up a transparent, black-silk negligee robe. It was a robe, he mused. When his eyes met hers, her eyebrows rose, lips pursed tight, and head shook from side to side. With a feigned pout, he re-entered the dressing room and returned again with the long pink robe.

“That’s better,” she bantered. “Now, if you don’t mind?”

Tony gallantly turned away, though every muscle in his body wanted to do a full three-sixty. “Don’t you think this is a bit ridiculous?” he asked. “We were married.”

“No, I don’t.” After a moment, she added, “You may turn around now.”

When he did, she was the only thing he could see. Her hair was slightly tousled, her cheeks blushed, and her eyes sparkled with a glow that could mesmerize him for hours. It was all he could do to remember his mission. Blinking twice, he forced himself to remain on task. “I thought we could talk about tonight.”

“Not now. I need to get ready. We can talk in the car. If you leave me alone, then I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”

Tony silently laughed at her sense of empowerment. Mockingly, he bowed, blew her a kiss, and left the room. Once the door closed completely, he allowed the small rumble of his amusement to come to life.

Leaning against one of the grand doors, Tony waited. It had been almost thirty minutes since he’d left Claire’s suite before he looked up to see her descending the main staircase. He remained still as he scanned her from head to toe. As much as he appreciated appearance and perfection, there was something about the recently-awakened Claire that he longed to see again. Once she reached the marble floor, he straightened and said, “You look amazing—as usual. Is that an outfit you brought or one from the closet?”

“One I brought. The closet seems silly. I’m leaving in three days.”

“You refused to take a credit card, so I hired someone to shop for you.” He shrugged. “You may decide to wear some of those clothes to our other public functions.”

Claire came to a stop and looked up defiantly. “Tony, I’m not falling into that same trap. I don’t want the media accusing me of
reconciling
with you for your money.”

He hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t what he was trying to do; nevertheless, he understood her trepidation. Attempting to reassure her, he said, “Tonight there won’t be media, just friends.”

Claire exhaled and her shoulders slumped.

“What’s the matter?”

“Are you sure they want me there? I would rather face the media than
your friends,
considering what they think I did.”

Tony grasped her hand. “I promise. I’ve spoken to everyone, most in person. I spoke to Mary Ann and Eli on the phone.”

“And…?”

“And they
understand
. I was distraught, but we’re reconciling.”

Tony placed his arm around her waist as she closed her eyes and exhaled.

“It will be all right. This is supposed to make tomorrow and the wedding easier.” As he led her outside, he asked, “You do want to be at the wedding, don’t you?”

“I do,” she said, as her eyes widened. Tony followed her gaze. He couldn’t blame her reaction: she was seeing his newest car for the first time. It was a Lexus LFA. There was no question, that other than Claire, cars were his passion. This little two-seat super car with a V-40 valve V-10 was no exception. He opened the door and she lowered herself into the bucket seat. When he got in and grinned, Claire said, “This is a very nice car. Would you mind not going too fast?”

“It can do zero to sixty in three point six seconds.”

“I believe you, but do you remember my reaction to the bacon the other day?”

He did and Catherine had said she was shaky. “Yes.” He frowned. “Are you still not well?”

“I’m not back to myself.”

“Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I have an appointment in a few weeks.”

After they began the drive, Tony looked to his right. Claire had her head laid back and eyes closed. Sick or not, they had things they needed to sort through before they arrived at the Bronsons’. Turning down the radio, he said, “We need to discuss your behavior for tonight.”

Claire opened her eyes and looked in his direction. “Tony, I wouldn’t be here—of my own free will—if I didn’t completely comprehend my behavior. Don’t patronize me. I’ve done this dance before.”

“Are you implying that when you were with my friends in the past, it was a performance?”

“No. I’m saying that there were times I wasn’t happy with you, but no one knew.”

Looking her way, he asked, “You aren’t happy with me?”

Her petite hand reached over and covered his. “Tony, we’re doing what you want; it’s a performance. I can’t say I don’t want it to be real, but for now, it isn’t. Let’s not add unnecessary layers to this charade.”

As he listened to her words, something gave him hope. “So there’s a part of you—I’ll settle for a small part—that wants what we’re about to do to be real?”

She exhaled. “Yes, Tony, a small part of me wants
us
to be real.”

Tony relaxed against the leather interior and enjoyed the bends and curves of the country roads. He would’ve loved to have pushed the gas pedal harder and watched the speedometer climb. It gave him an undeniable rush; however, for now, he’d take the adrenaline that came from the woman in the seat beside him. As they conversed about nothing, he contemplated his friends. Tony wanted the night to go well, for Claire. Of course, he’d laid himself on the line for this, too. Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure how Sue would react when they arrived. Looking to his right, he wondered if Sue was as good at hiding her true emotions as Claire. When they neared Tim and Sue’s home, he slowed the car and said, “Perhaps we should review the rules.”

Once again, Claire closed her eyes, laid her head back, and exhaled. Her next sentence came with no emotion. “Maybe I could save us some time and summarize? Do as you say, no public failure, and don’t divulge private information.”

“Are you summarizing or mocking?”

“For the sake of argument, I’ll call it summarizing.” He didn’t dare look her way; he could hear the sparks of fire crackling below the surface. Claire continued, “As I said earlier, I’ve done this before. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m perfectly capable of doing as you wish.”

“No, Claire, I haven’t forgotten your abilities. I just need confirmation that we’re on the same page as we enter the Bronsons’ home.”

“Tell me the number, and I’ll turn right to it.”

With the car now stopped along the shoulder of the country road, Tony reached for Claire’s chin and turned her glaring green eyes toward him. In the split second before he spoke, he remembered the envelope. Clenching his jaw, he searched desperately for his calmest tone. The end result slowed his words. “I believe I’m tiring of the sexy, bold, and cheeky.”

“Then stop this charade.”

He maintained his hold and reminded himself again. Exhaling, he asked, “May I please have reticent and genteel while in the presence of others?”

The green fire ebbed. With a faux Georgia accent, she responded, “Why, Mr. Rawlings, your wish is my command.”

As she mocked him with her fluttering lashes, his heart raced, and the temperature inside the car rose exponentially, gluing Tony’s hand to her chin. He couldn’t let go and release that green stare if he tried. Unconsciously, he leaned toward her and commanded, “Kiss me.”

He hadn’t meant to say it with such need, but it was true. He needed a release, and lashing out wouldn’t get him the results he desired. Thankfully, she didn’t protest. Obediently, her eyes closed, lips parted, and their mouths united. Fire ignited as their hands sought what only the other possessed. If it weren’t for the damn seatbelts, Tony would have forgotten that they were on the side of the road, only a mile from his vice president’s home. When reality struck, he leaned back and confessed, “If we weren’t expected at the Bronsons’ any minute, I’d like to put more effort into exploring the
wish-and-command
possibilities.”

To his surprise, Claire leaned her head against the seat and laughed. Seeing her genuine smile, the threat of red, the tension, and the nervous energy slipped away. It wasn’t until she said, “I’m nervous to see all of them again,” that he realized how truly difficult this was on her. He’d tried to pave the way, but he’d also been the one to set up the roadblocks.

One more time, he reached for her chin, but without the earlier tension. Tony wanted nothing more than to help. “There may be questions—personal questions. This isn’t the press. They’re people who know me—know us—and they’re going to want to know what happened.”

Claire nodded.

“I’ve given this scenario a lot of thought. We both know that we can’t be one hundred percent truthful.”

“Obviously,” Claire murmured.

Tony cleared his throat. “Like I said, we need to be on the same page. I contacted you while you were in prison—”

“You did no such—”

His darkening gaze stopped her protest, as his baritone voice dropped an octave, slowing his words. “We
must
be together on this. No one’s going to believe that this
just
happened. We have to let them think that it’s been in the works for a while. Besides, that’s what the press release said. We need to create a believable history.”

Claire sucked in her cheeks, pursed her lips, and lowered her chin. Turning toward him, she said, “Fine, you’re the master of deception, what’s our
believable history
?”

“I contacted you at the prison—first by letter, and eventually, I began to visit.” He waited for her rebuttal. When none came, he went on, “Initially, we were both upset—and
hurt
. After all, I believed you tried to kill me, and you believed I abandoned you.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she agreed. “All right,
abandoned
is appropriate.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, “Communication—we began talking. I realized that it was all a misunderstanding. Despite the evidence, you convinced me that you weren’t responsible.”

“Then who?”

“We may never know. There had been some deliveries and some new groundskeepers had been hired. Perhaps it was a business rival—we’ll probably never know. The clues are long gone and the police concentrated on the wrong person.”

With each comment, Claire’s gaze mellowed.

Tony continued, “I personally went to Governor Bosley. He attended our wedding, and in the past, I’d done him some favors. He agreed to your petition for pardon. Since then…” Tony continued weaving a history that his friends would accept. Slowly, he saw Claire’s stance relax and her gaze become more accepting. It seemed that Claire, too, wanted this evening to go well.
Was it because there was a small part of her that wanted it to be real, or was it because she was afraid of the consequences if she didn’t?
Tony prayed it was the former.