Eternally Yours (10 page)

Clayton’s hands tightened around her and he pulled her closer into his arms, silently cursing the man who had caused her so much pain. “Why did he tell Clara he would come if he had no intention of doing so?”

“I found out the truth later. Mama Nora and Poppa Paul told me the entire story years later when they thought I was old enough to handle it. Evidently the authorities questioned Clara, and she admitted to lying to my mom. She had called the man as my mother had asked her to do, but according to Clara, he had denied being my father. Clara said she didn’t have the heart to tell my mother what he’d said, so she let her die believing I would be taken care of.”

“What about the authorities? Couldn’t they pursue it before making you a ward of the state? Evidently, Clara had this man’s name and phone number, surely there was something they could do.”

“Possibly, but they didn’t get the chance to question Clara any further. I understand not long after my mom died, she quit her job at the hospital and moved to another city without leaving a forwarding address.”

“So you still don’t know who your father is?”

“No, and as far as I’m concerned, Clayton, I never had a father.”

Her eyes closed momentarily, and when her lashes lifted again, her eyes revealed deep inner pain. “That period in my life was very difficult. It was during that time that Lorren and I became the very best of friends. She would stand by the window and wait with me every day, and then later when I found out the truth, that my father wasn’t coming, her being there made a very painful time easy for me. And then I had Mama Nora and her husband Papa Paul. They were also there for me. One day Papa Paul explained to me that part of growing up was accepting the fact that on this earth, you would always face disappointments and letdowns from mortal men, even fathers. But he used to assure me that although my biological father had let me down, I had another father, a heavenly father, who would never let me down, and that he would always be there for me, no matter what.”

She sighed. “So I shifted my faith to my other father. He became my rock, my strength, and like Poppa Paul said, he has never let me down.”

Clayton clenched his teeth, angry at the disappointments she’d had to endure as a child. He couldn’t help but admire her spirit. She’d been a fighter, a believer, a survivor.

Syneda continued. “And I made up my mind that I would never give my love and trust blindly to any man like my mother did. Over the years, I’ve learned that only a few people are blessed with sharing that special love and the unwavering trust that goes with it. Mama Nora shared it with Papa Paul before he died, your parents, your sisters and their husbands, Lorren and Justin and Dex and Caitlin have all shown me that it’s possible for some people.”

“But not for you?”

“No, not for me. I’ll never fall in love. It’s not for me. I don’t need it.”

Clayton’s hands closed over Syneda’s shoulders and the feel of his strong fingers soothed her. He leaned down and brushed his lips to her neck. “No, baby, I think love
is
for you,” he said huskily. “You just don’t know it yet.”

“Clayton, you don’t understand.”

He met her eyes, his expression suddenly serious. “Yes, I do, Syneda. I really do.” He understood more than she realized, he thought. He understood what her lifelong insecurities about love were, which had been so much a part of her childhood and evidently remained a part of her adult life. And because of how she felt, he knew he couldn’t tell her that he loved her. Love would be the last thing she would want from him.

Knowing that he could never rid her of all the sadness and loneliness she had endured over the years, Clayton inwardly vowed to bring some happiness and pleasure into her life. Love was about more than being wanted. It was also about understanding, time and patience. He would do battle to have all those things with Syneda. First, he would be understanding whenever she would try keeping him, like she’d done other men, at arm’s length. Second, he realized she needed time. Although she thought she had fully healed from the pain caused by her father, he sensed that deep down she really hadn’t. And last, but above all, he would have to have patience. No matter what, he would not give up on her or his love. He was in it for the long haul.

He slowly got out of bed. “It’s lunchtime.”

Syneda smiled up at him. “Will we really get to eat this time?”

He laughed. “Yes, this time we will.”

After lunch Clayton had gotten dressed and gone to a video store and rented a number of movies. They had ordered pizza for dinner and after watching the movies had decided to go to bed early.

In bed Clayton had held her in his arms. He refused to make love to her any more that day, knowing her body was still tender.

“Thanks for protecting me last night…and this morning, Clayton. You must carry packs of condoms around with you,” Syneda said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Clayton chuckled. “Shut up, Walters, and go to sleep,” he said, pulling her closer to him.

Syneda laughed as she snuggled closer. Her last thought before closing her eyes was that if she weren’t too careful, she could get used to Clayton sleeping in her bed.

“This weekend was wonderful, Clayton.”

Clayton stood by the door. His traveling bag was packed, and he was ready to leave. That morning she was the one who had awakened him to make love. Again they had skipped breakfast and ended up eating leftover pizza for lunch.

“Was this weekend wonderful enough to get me an invitation for another visit?”

Syneda hesitated before answering. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes.”

She frowned up at him. “This weekend was to be a lust-purging experience to get you out of my system, and me out of yours.”

He pulled her closer to him. He felt the soft warmth of her skin, and inhaled her arousing feminine scent. He wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed and make love to her for the rest of the day. “Then we failed miserably, because you’re definitely still in my system.”

Syneda stared up at him, becoming increasingly uneasy because he was still definitely in hers, too. “Another weekend will be a mistake.”

“No, it won’t.”

A warning voice whispered in her head. She had let her guard down more with Clayton this weekend than with any other man. She needed time to think, to regroup. “I’ll be busy next weekend.”

Clayton nodded, recognizing her attempt to put distance between them. His gaze lowered to her body. She was wearing his dress shirt. It was the only stitch of clothing she had worn all weekend.

He reached into the pants pocket of his jeans and pulled out a key and placed it in the palm of her hand. “This is a spare key to my apartment.” He didn’t add that he had never given the spare key to any woman other than members of his family on occasion. “That shirt you’re wearing is one of my favorites. How about personally returning it to me. Soon.”

Syneda nervously bit her bottom lip as she gazed at the key she held in her hand. She then raised her eyes to meet his. “If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll change and you can take it with you.”

“No. I want you to return it to me. In Houston. This coming weekend.”

“Clayton, I can’t do that. Don’t you realize what you’re asking of me?” He was suggesting that they continue their affair beyond this weekend. There was no way she could do that. Tossing aside common sense for a wild, reckless and passionate weekend with him once was enough. Considering doing it again would be asking for trouble.

“What do you think I’m asking of you, Syneda?”

Syneda closed her eyes momentarily. Clayton’s voice, sexy and warm, wrapped about her like silken honey. Suddenly, sanity returned with full force and she opened her eyes. “To continue what we started this weekend.”

Clayton reached up and tipped her chin up so their eyes could meet. “You’re right, sweetheart. I’m not ready to end things. I still want you.”

He lowered his head and kissed her tenderly. His lips slanted over hers, moving softly yet boldly, making circular motions. His tongue, smooth as velvet, teased her own tongue in a taunting yet provocative play. When he lifted his head, he gazed deeply into her eyes. The heat of them scorched her, and took her breath away.

Gathering his baggage in his hand, Clayton opened the door and walked out. Syneda stared at him, her mouth still feeling the pressure of his gentle but heated kiss as she remembered his parting words.

M
onday morning over breakfast, Syneda was still fighting the state of rhapsody she had found herself in. Clayton’s departure yesterday had done little to bring her senses and mind back to reality. She had refused to take off his shirt until her bath late Sunday night.

His masculine scent had been drenched in the material, and an acute yearning for him had welled up inside her so strongly that at times she couldn’t breathe. She had gone to bed wearing her nightgown and missing the aroma of his masculine skin the shirt had provided.

Not even the sore muscles she had encountered upon waking that morning or the marks of passion that Clayton’s beard had left on various places over her body had dampened her spirits. That weekend they had soared to passionate, exhilarating heights, and her body was still tingling from the memories of it.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she realized that in order to make it through the coming weeks and months, she would have to get Clayton off her mind. The last thing she needed was to become involved with a man who had the ability to make her hot all over with just one look, and whose lovemaking surpassed anything she’d ever imagined.

On her way to work, she dropped Clayton’s shirt off at the cleaners. She had made up her mind that the shirt would be returned to him but not personally as he’d requested. It would arrive at his place via FedEx overnight delivery.

Joanna looked up at Syneda when she stepped off the elevator. “Whoever is trying to impress you, Ms. Walters, is doing a darn good job. I’m definitely impressed with him.”

Syneda raised a brow at her secretary’s comment. “What are you talking about, Joanna?”

“There was a delivery for you first thing this morning.”

Upon opening the door to her office, Syneda halted, shocked. Vases of flowers were everywhere.

“These are for me?” Syneda asked. She stood there, blank and amazed.

Joanna giggled. “Yes, they’re all for you.”

Joanna’s response hit Syneda full force. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not kidding. It took four guys to deliver them all. All these flowers make your office look like a flower shop. The guy definitely has great taste.”

Syneda walked farther into the room. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“That’s an understatement. Whoever sent these is definitely my kind of guy.”

Syneda turned and faced her secretary with a smile on her lips that she couldn’t contain. “Do me a favor and have another table brought in. Also, Joanna, I have a meeting with John Drayton. Please set up conference room B for our use. It will be a little too crowded for us to meet in here.”

Joanna glanced around the room. “You think one table will do it? I think we need a couple of tables in here,” she said teasingly, as she headed for the door. “The card that came with the flowers is in the middle of your desk.” She left, closing the door behind her.

Syneda’s hand shook nervously as she picked up the envelope and pulled out the card.

This weekend was more special to me than you’ll ever know.

Clayton

Smiling, Syneda slipped the card back in the envelope and placed it in her desk.

“Ms. Walters?” Joanna’s voice came through the intercom on her desk.

“Yes.”

“Mr. Drayton has arrived. I have him settled in conference room B.”

“Thanks, Joanna. I’m on my way.”

Syneda looked at the distinguished-looking man sitting across the desk from her. His daughter, a young woman of twenty, had made a mistake and, being from a well-respected and wealthy family, they were not eager to share her mistake with the world. Nor did they want to make her pay for it for the rest of her life.

“Why didn’t your daughter come with you? Are you sure she wants to give her child up for adoption, Mr. Drayton?”

“She’ll do what’s best for the family.”

Syneda sighed. The man had said earlier that his daughter would not consider an abortion, and Syneda couldn’t help wondering if perhaps Cassie Drayton was giving up her child under duress. “What about the child’s father?”

“What about him?” John Drayton did not try to disguise his annoyance with her question.

“Even if your daughter is willing to give her child up for adoption, we’ll need the consent of the father, Mr. Drayton.”

“Consider it done. He won’t oppose it,” he replied with easy, smug confidence.

“I take it marriage has been ruled out as an option?” Syneda asked pointedly.

“Of course it has.” His curt response held a note of impatience. “All I want is for your firm to arrange a private adoption. I’m sure there’s some childless couple somewhere who would love to—”

“Adopt your grandchild?”

Mr. Drayton did not flinch at her words, nor did he seem remorseful when he answered. “Yes.”

“We’ll have to meet with your daughter, of course.”

“That can be arranged.”

“And the father?”

“Prepare the required papers. I’ll see that he signs them.”

Syneda angled her head and noted how John Drayton basked in the knowledge of his power. “Yes. I’m sure you will.”

Restlessly, Syneda paced through her apartment that evening. Every room she went through reminded her of Clayton. Memories of their weekend together assailed her at every turn. He had spent less than seventy-two hours in her apartment and already his presence was missed.

It’s not the quantity of time but the quality of time,
her mind screamed.
And Clayton gave you top quality time.

She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, remembering Clayton in it. A part of her wished he was there in it now. Another part of her knew that it was best that he wasn’t, and that the best thing for her to do was to forget a weekend that she knew deep down she never would.

She had not even called to thank him for the flowers. She couldn’t risk the sound of his sexy voice unnerving her. So she had chosen the coward’s way out. During lunch, she had gone into a card shop and picked out a cute thank-you card, which she had signed and included in the box with his shirt that she’d sent back to him.

Taking a deep breath, she entered her bedroom. For the first time, it felt lonely to her. The bed was neatly made and looked nothing like the untidy and much-used bed it had been during Clayton’s visit.

Syneda felt her resolve wavering as she sat on her bed. For a smart woman, she was completely stupid about sex. She had felt so savvy when she had entered the drugstore during lunch on Friday for her condom purchase. Determined to be on the safe side, she had purchased three packs of condoms, one for each day of Clayton’s visit.

It was a good thing he was an expert at practicing safe sex because not only had she not purchased enough of the darn things, she had not given thought to using them until Clayton had discreetly pulled out his own foil packet before they’d made love; not only that first time, but every single time.

She couldn’t help but appreciate his care and concern for her welfare. He never made a big production out of using them, nor had he tried to analyze her reaction. It did, however, make her feel comfortable to know he was a man who believed in a simple, direct approach to being careful, and who took the thought of AIDS or an unwanted pregnancy seriously. The last thing she needed was to have a child out of wedlock from a man who didn’t love her, the way her mother had done. She and Clayton had made love enough times for that to happen, had it not been for him taking the necessary precautions.

Thoughts of him and their lovemaking suddenly made her feel as if her skin was on fire. Never would she have thought she would have spent the better part of a weekend making love to a man she considered a friend, at times an adversary, and at others a mentor. A man who was also a freewheeling bachelor, a sexual predator, a man who never made promises or hinted at the possibility of never-ending devotion and fidelity.

She didn’t want to kid herself; Clayton was smooth and experienced. He was a man she could lose her heart to and get hurt if she was not careful. More than anything, she must not get love confused with great sex. She must not forget her own rules.

With that thought firmly embedded in her mind, Syneda’s resolve became a little stronger than before.

“Ms. Walters, you have a call from a Mr. Clayton Madaris.”

Syneda bit her lower lip. She had been expecting Clayton’s call. Evidently he had received the package she had sent to him. “Thanks, Joanna, I’ll take it.”

A few minutes later the connection was made. “Clayton?”

“Yes, Syneda. Thanks for the card, but no thanks for returning the shirt. I wanted you to return it in person,” he said disappointedly.

Syneda smiled as she put her paperwork aside. Evidently he wasn’t used to women not following his requests. “You can’t always have what you want, Clayton. Thanks again for the flowers. You really shouldn’t have.”

“I couldn’t help myself.” What he had just said was the truth, Clayton thought. Upon arriving at the airport he had gone into a florist shop and ordered the flowers be delivered to her first thing Monday morning. There had not been one particular arrangement that had suited him, so he had ended up ordering several. Although he was disappointed that she had not personally returned the shirt, at least she had not returned the spare key to his apartment with the shirt.

Clayton couldn’t help being plagued with vivid memories of her wearing nothing but his shirt. Never could he remember wanting a woman so much. The incredible hunger he had for her suddenly made his body go taut. He had to make love to her again and soon.

“I want to see you, Syneda. This weekend,” he said huskily.

Syneda took a deep breath. “I’ve told you, I’ll be busy.”

“What about next weekend?”

“I’ll still be busy.”

“We need to talk, Syneda.”

“No.”

“Yes. Just what are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything, Madaris.”

“Then we’ll talk. We either talk tonight on the phone, or I’ll fly up this weekend and we’ll talk in person.”

“Don’t do that, Clayton,” she said shakily. She wasn’t ready to see him again. He had a way of making her come utterly unglued.

There was a pause. “Okay then, I’ll call you tonight at eight. Goodbye, Syneda.”

Syneda hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

Clayton called at exactly eight o’clock. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. He had preplanned his strategy and went straight to the heart of the problem.

“Okay, Syneda, you talk and I’ll listen since there seems to be something bothering you about the idea of us continuing to see each other.”

Syneda sighed. Something bothering her was an understatement. “All right, Clayton, since you insist upon forcing the issue, I think you’ve forgotten there was to be only one weekend for us. All we shared was satisfying a case of lust and a little bit of curiosity. We’ve gotten both out of our system.”

“Can you honestly say we did?”

“Yes, you’re out of my system,” she lied.

“Well, you’re not out of mine.”

“Too bad, Madaris. You don’t get a second try.”

A grin appeared on Clayton’s face. She was following just where he had wanted to lead her. “Does that mean we go back to being just friends?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s no reason for me not to come visit you in two weeks, as nothing more than a friend. I’ll even check into a hotel if you want me to.”

Syneda heard the challenge in his voice. It was something she could not ignore. Her first instinct was to tell him in unladylike words just where he could go, but she thought better of it. In this situation, the age-old saying “actions speak louder than words” would have to be proven. It was obvious he did not believe they could go back to being just friends without anything sexual between them.

Syneda balled her hands into fists. She would jump to the challenge to contradict his beliefs and show him that he was out of her system. She only hoped that in two weeks he really and truly was.

“Okay, Clayton, I’ll see you in two weeks. And it won’t be necessary for you to check into a hotel. My sofa converts into a bed, and I have plenty of room here at my place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive. Just as long as you remember my position.”

Unfortunately he
was
remembering her position, and the one that stuck out uppermost in his mind was the one of her Sunday morning lying flat on her back, pinned beneath the heated weight of his aroused body.

“Yes, Syneda, I’ll remember your position,” he said in a deep husky voice.
At the present time, I can’t seem to think of anything else.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be working late tonight, Braxter.”

Braxter Montgomery looked up from the papers he’d been reading. “I really hadn’t planned to stay this late, Senator, but I’m picking up my date from work. I decided to stick around here and go over the guest list Jacob Madaris faxed today.”