Tony went to her condominium to learn and to experience. Besides learning her level of knowledge, he couldn’t go back to Iowa without spending more time in her presence. He hoped that a more private setting would bring out the woman with the fire in her eyes. He wanted to see those flames, feel the heat, and inhale her smoky aroma.
Before knocking on her door, his surroundings registered. He’d definitely waited too long. Claire was becoming established in Palo Alto. It was a double-edged sword. Negatively, she was making a life without him; however, the positive aspect was that she wouldn’t likely disappear from him again. Phillip Roach’s watchful eye guaranteed that. The private investigator was how Tony knew that Claire was currently home and her roommate was out of town.
With his knuckle ready to strike, Tony took a deep breath. What if Claire refused to talk to him? A rush of anxiety flowed through him. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? She could refuse him entry. No, he reasoned, Claire wouldn’t do that. Exhaling, he allowed his hand to rap on the door.
The voice from within rang with unabashed glee as the door opened. “Did you forget your key?”
Her happy, carefree expression morphed before his eyes. The dazzling smile disappeared and her neck straightened. He watched as his presence registered. The fire he loved in her emerald eyes ignited, as she worked to contain her swirling emotions. Watching that spark, seeing it before him, filled every empty space of his existence. The last fifteen months had been pure hell. He wanted that spark back in his life. Tony would move heaven and earth to make Claire understand that she belonged to him.
Reining in his desire to pull her into his arms and elicit another type of spark, Tony replied, “I don’t have a key, but I’d be glad to get one. Just tell me where to sign up.”
Her stance straightened and her tone hardened. “How did you get up here? You can’t be on this floor without a key.”
Trying to keep the conversation light, he requested entrance. “Perhaps you could invite me in and we can discuss it?”
“Tony, why are you here?”
He smirked, “If we’re playing one hundred questions, I admit defeat. May I come in?”
After a prolonged silence, during which her eyes never left his, Claire took a step back and nodded. He tried to contain his relief as he walked into her foyer and glanced around. “My, Claire, you’re living much better than I expected. When I first learned of your release, I pictured you destitute.”
“I’m sure you enjoyed that scenario. I’m sorry to disappoint.”
He snickered. “Disappoint? On the contrary, your ingenuity is to be praised.” Although he hadn’t foreseen an alliance between Claire and Amber McCoy, Amber was obviously helping Claire make a life—without him. His heartbeat quickened. Without him was not acceptable.
Her words brought him back to reality. “Tony, I’ll repeat myself at the risk of being redundant. Why are you here, and how did you access my floor?”
“I gained access by the security guard on the first floor. He tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. I explained that we’re old friends, I’m leaving town, and since I had recently talked with you, I knew you were home and expecting me—”
The ringing of her phone interrupted his explanation. After glancing at the screen, she said, “This is security. I’ll tell them I don’t want you here, unless you quickly tell me why you’re here.” The phone rang again.
He didn’t hesitate. He was inside her new home and didn’t want to leave—not yet. “I want to know more about your prison delivery.”
She didn’t respond, at least not to him; instead, she answered the phone and decided his fate. With each word his body eased—she told the security guard that he could stay. While she spoke, he drank in the woman before him: casual and comfortable, with her dark hair pulled back, wearing soft slacks and a big shirt. There was a wide neckline that exposed a shoulder revealing the strap of a camisole. It was a stark contrast to the woman in the white dress, yet equally as sexy.
When she finally turned back to him, he noticed the determination in her voice. “I have plans today. Please make this quick.”
His cheeks rose and his breath quickened. The aroma of shampoo and jasmine filled his senses. “Yes, I see you’re dressed for business. What do they call that, business casual?” While she debated her response, he lowered his voice and added, “I’m not complaining. I always found the casual Claire as sexy as the one who rocked designer dresses.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled. “Please, I have lunch plans, and I’d like to change. Question what you want and go.”
Lunch plans? With whom? He’d seen pictures of her with Harrison Baldwin. Could that be whom she was planning on seeing? While these questions and many more ran through his head, he managed to ask, “Do you only entertain in the entry, or may we sit?”
“We may sit,” she replied, and began walking toward the living room. As they sat, her next sentence caught him completely off guard. “I know you enjoy coffee. I’d offer you some, but the last time I got you coffee, it didn’t work out so well for me.”
To his amazement, he found her brazenness titillating. “God, Claire you’re something else. I can’t imagine anyone else joking about that.”
“Well, see, you misinterpreted. I wasn’t joking. I’m actually still pissed as hell.”
“Good for you.” He leaned toward her. She didn’t look away. He loved her tenacity! “Your ability to admit your displeasure is refreshing. It encourages me to be honest, too.”
“Honesty? That would be an invigorating change.”
He worked to maintain his expression and keep his tone soft. “You should know that I’m sorry.”
The battle once again raged behind her eyes. Would she voice her thoughts or stay quiet as she had when they were married? He waited. Her volume raised exponentially with each phrase “What? You’re sorry?” It was as if she filled the room with her presence. “Well, Tony, I believe I need a little clarification. Tell me what exactly you’re sorry about. I’ll gladly give you a few options.”
She suddenly stood and paced about the living room, her chest heaving with each exaggerated breath. When she neared the large windows, the sunlight muted her features. Tony much preferred having her close to watch her emotions unravel, and at the same time he yearned to calm her, seize her shoulders, and make her forget what she was about to say. He couldn’t; she deserved to tell him exactly what she thought. He prayed that after she was done, they could move forward.
Finally, she spoke, “First, you’re sorry for invading my privacy for years, years before I even knew you existed. Second, you’re sorry for kidnapping me, isolating me, controlling me, and manipulating me. Third, you’re sorry for lying to me, pretending you cared, and, oh yeah, marrying me. Fourth, listen carefully, Tony, this is a big one. You’re sorry for framing me for attempted murder, resulting in incarceration in a federal penitentiary.” She sat back down and once again crossed her arms over her heaving breasts.
One doesn’t deal with people as successfully as Anthony Rawlings without understanding confrontation. If he chose to retaliate, this scene would escalate to a place he didn’t want to go. As he fought to allow her this release, she added, “I would prefer the words, but you are welcome to say one through four, if that’s easier for you.”