Breathless (71 page)

“Would you like to come in for something to eat?” Claire asked John and Emily.

“No, thanks. We need to get this little guy home,” John replied. Then glancing toward his wife, he added, “I think we should have made Michael walk. He’ll have more energy than either one of us.”

After they’d all laughed and said their goodbyes, the Rawlingses made their way into the house. In mere seconds, Tony and Claire were standing in the middle of the foyer all alone.

“Hmm, I like this,” Tony cooed, as he kissed Claire’s lips.

“This?”

“This...quiet.”

Claire nodded. “Yes, me too. Emily was asking me how I liked having so many people around all the time.”

Tony’s back straightened. “It’s really none of her business.”

Claire feigned a grin. She knew that for her sake and the sake of their families, her husband and sister were trying to get along. Most of the time, they succeeded; however, once in a while...

Tony’s tone hardened. “We’re not getting rid—”

“No, we’re not,” she interrupted. “I told her that often we don’t even realize they’re there. I mean, like now. It isn’t like they hover.” She touched his arm. “I’m truly all right with it. Eric and Phil are part of our family. I’m sure that one day Taylor will be like that, too.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you still comfortable with going to New York?” Tony asked.

Nodding, Claire answered, “I am. This will be Nichol’s first time in the city. I think while you’re at work, we’ll go to the museums. She’ll like the Museum of Natural History, and she’s already excited about the play.”

“As long as you have Phil and Taylor with you, go wherever you want.”

“Right now I want to go take a warm bath.” With a sly grin, Claire asked, “Should I ask Phil or Taylor to join me?”

Tony’s finger touched her lips. “Oh, Mrs. Rawlings, it’s been what, two or three hours since I’ve heard that beautiful smart mouth of yours?”

“Well, you’re the one who keeps emphasizing their presence. I just thought—”

His lips silenced hers as he pulled her into his strong embrace. The temperature of the entry hall rose exponentially. After a lingering kiss, Tony whispered, “Perhaps we could take this discussion upstairs? You, my dear, are excessively overdressed for a bath.”

“You are so right. Let me go get Phil—”

Taking her hand, Tony led her to the stairs. “We don’t need him.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I think I’ve got this.”

“If you’re up for the job, I guess you’ll do,” Claire said jokingly.

With a devilish grin, he replied, “Not yet, but I’m sure that can be arranged.”

***

LATER THAT NIGHT, while in their suite, Claire settled into bed and reached for her Kindle. Not finding it, she realized she’d left her reader in their home office. Donning a robe, she slipped down the dimmed, quiet hallway. Easing the door to Nichol’s room open, she watched as the light from the hall spilled onto the carpet, illuminating the lavender room with golden rays. Peering beyond the light, Claire watched as their daughter slept soundly on her canopy bed. Watching Nichol sleep was an activity that Claire could do for hours; just being near her filled Claire’s world with peace. Tip-toeing to the side of the big bed, Claire smiled at Nichol’s doll on the pillow beside her. The ice-skating had obviously worn her out. Since they were leaving early in the morning for New York, Claire was glad that she was already asleep. Quietly closing her door, Claire eased down the back stairs toward their office. As she neared, she heard Tony’s booming voice.

“...I don’t care where they go, one of you needs to be with them at all times.”

“Yes, Mr. Rawlings. They won’t be alone.” Though she couldn’t see them, Claire recognized Taylor as the person who’d responded.

“The last two mailings have had a connection to New York. If Claire weren’t so damned determined to not allow this person to interrupt our lives, I’d insist that they stay home.”

“With two of us,” Phil began, “we’ll keep them safe. One of us will be right with them and the other will stay back, watching the crowds. I’ll keep Eric constantly updated. You’ll know where they are at all times.”

Claire stepped into the office, clad in her nightgown and bathrobe. “Don’t mind me,” she interrupted. “I kind of feel like the president, overhearing his Secret Service agents. I wish you wouldn’t all make such a big fuss out of this.” She looked at Tony. “And I’ll be honest. Your tone...” She pursed her lips. “...is a little intimidating. Give poor Taylor a break. You know they’ll do their best.”

Claire smiled in Taylor and Phil’s direction.

Tony’s eyes darkened. “Claire, my assistant bought the tickets for the play over a month ago. I didn’t think about it at the time, but that’s a red flag. We might as well have taken out a sign on Times Square and announced our arrival.”

Finding her Kindle, Claire picked it up and walked toward Tony. Trying to lighten the conversation, she said, “Wouldn’t Nichol think that was special? Her name in lights on Times Square!”

“Claire,” Phil warned. “This is serious. Think about Patrick Chester—”

“I don’t want to think about him,” she snapped. “I don’t want to think about the possibility that someone could be targeting Nichol or me. However, I will
not
let that someone hold my daughter captive inside of her own house. That isn’t happening.” Her eyes met Tony’s. Though she saw the darkness in his, Claire felt the fire in her own.

“Mrs. Rawlings?” Taylor asked.

They both looked in Taylor’s direction. “Yes?” Claire replied.

“May I suggest changing your tickets?”

Shaking her head, Claire said, “No. Nichol is too excited about
The
Lion King
.”

“Not changing the show,” Taylor continued. “Changing the performance. Your plans include being in the city for three nights. Could you go one of the other nights?”

Claire looked at her husband and raised her brows. “Can you change the tickets at this late of a date?”

His cheeks rose. “Hell, yes. That’s a great idea, Taylor, thank you.”

“We’ll get it all arranged and have the tickets put into another name,” Phil interjected.

“There,” Claire said. “It’s settled. Now let’s all get some sleep. Someone I know likes to get up way too early for these business trips.”

As Claire followed Phil and Taylor toward the door, Tony’s voice once again rang through the office. “No, Mrs. Rawlings, I don’t believe this conversation is finished.” Turning back, she saw the darkness that used to fill her with dread, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. It was the devilish grin he appeared to be trying to conceal.

When she turned back, Phil’s expression asked what his lips couldn’t. With a smile and a nod of her head, Claire let Phil know that she was and would be fine. His shoulders relaxed as she said, “Good night,” and closed the door. Looking again toward the dark eyes that filled her dreams, Claire walked back toward her husband.

“What do you possibly want to discuss that can’t be discussed upstairs?”

Tony reached for the tie of her soft robe and tugged it open, exposing her satin nightgown. “Do you really think that this is appropriate staff-interaction clothing?” His hands caressed her hips, taking in the slippery material.

“I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone but you,” she replied. “I just came down for my Kindle.” As she spoke, he stood and leaned over her, causing Claire’s back to arch over the desk. “You’re the one having a big pow-wow in here. At this late hour, I thought you’d be alone.”

“Now I’m alone.” His tone morphed from business to sultry as the darkness too changed: his earlier concern swirled into an abyss of desire. “What did you plan to do with me...alone?” Warm bourbon-scented breath bathed her cheeks as the aroma of cologne mixed with the heat from his chest. Parts of her body, which moments ago had been ready to sleep, were now suddenly awake and begging for attention.

With a giggle, she replied, “Nothing. I just wanted my Kindle.”

Lifting her to his desk, Tony eased himself forward, spreading her legs and pulling her waist toward him. “Nothing?” he asked, as he eased her robe from her shoulder.

“Tony, we have a nice bed upstairs.”

“You know,” he spoke in bursts, kissing her neck as his fingers traced her collarbone. “I hate when you make references...references to the past...I’m so sorry that you have those memories.”

“It happened. I won’t deny it.”

“Hell no.” His volume increased as he stood straighter. Claire wondered how many glasses of bourbon he’d had. He continued, his tone deeper. “The whole damn world knows it.”

While that was her fault, Claire refused to apologize. It just was. As she contemplated what to say, her head moved abruptly backward. Tony had entwined his fingers in her loose hair, tugging her head and tipping her lips upward. With his mouth a mere whisper from hers, he said, “I hate it, but your reference brought back memories.” His head cocked to the side, and his brown eyes opened wide. “Those memories aren’t all bad...for me at least.”

Claire smiled. “No, Tony, they aren’t all bad for me, either. If they were, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“So...” Sultriness infiltrated his tone. “...it’s been a while since we’ve had
that
kind of fun in the office. I seem to remember a few things.”

Unable to shake her head, with his grip on her hair, Claire pursed her lips. “You, Mr. Rawlings, are incorrigible. Didn’t you just help me with that bath before dinner?”

Again, his lips found her neck, sending goose bumps up and down her arms and legs. “That was me. As I recall, I wasn’t your first choice.”

When his grip upon her hair loosened she reached for his, running her fingers through his salt and pepper mane. “You, sir, are always my first choice.” Kissing his neck and hearing the familiar growl, Claire knew her plans to read would never transpire. Within seconds, her husband seized her lips, swallowing the moans she didn’t realize she was producing as their tongues intertwined. Finally, pulling back, she said, “But...I didn’t lock that door.”

Easing her legs further apart, Tony lifted Claire’s nightgown and pulled her hips toward his. “My dear, everyone else has gone to bed.”

Claire couldn’t think of any other arguments. She wasn’t trying. This hadn’t been her plan; however, it had been a long time since they’d allowed themselves to do anything outside of the security of their bedroom. Being home did have its advantages. As Tony’s large fingers roamed, Claire cared less and less about anyone else in the house. “Tony?” she managed, though forming words was becoming increasingly difficult.

“Hmm?” he asked, easing her panties down her legs with his gaze lingering on what he was unveiling.

Seeing him unbuckle his belt, her question no longer seemed important. “Let me help you,” she offered. Not waiting for permission, she reached for his shirt and began to unfasten the buttons. His grin was enough reassurance as she continued to remove his shirt and he freed himself from the confines of his slacks.

Still sitting on his desk, with her nightgown bunched around her waist, and her robe forgotten, Claire ran her fingers through the softness of his chest hair. Leaning back, she unconsciously bit her bottom lip as she admired her view. Scanning her husband from head to toe, she took in his toned abs, which, even with age were still defined. As she peered lower, she took in a trail of dark hair that led the way to his impressive erection. Rarely was she the one clothed, and he not. As her gaze moved back upward, their eyes met, and her cheeks flushed.

“Are you enjoying the view, Mrs. Rawlings?”

Freeing her lip, she grinned. “I am. Thank you for asking.”

Stroking himself, he asked, “Perhaps you’d rather go upstairs?”

She shook her head, watching his hands, thinking how much she wanted to be doing what he was doing. “No, this feels a little scandalous...I think I like it.”

“Oh, scandalous is just how I like you.”

Kneeling before the desk, Tony reached for her legs and placed one on each of his shoulders. Planting a kiss on the inside of her leg, he slowly moved upward. His dark eyes peered up. “I like my view too.”

Moments later, Claire’s moans filled the office as his tongue and fingers confirmed her earlier statement. There was no doubt: she liked it.

Lying back on the desk and closing her eyes, memories of similar scenarios filled Claire’s mind. As their bodies became one, the good memories overpowered the bad, and for the second time in one day, she accepted all her husband had to offer and more. In the aftermath, as they walked hand in hand toward their suite, Claire squeezed his and whispered, “Those memories...they’re not all bad, not at all.”

His light chocolate eyes were all the response she wanted or needed.

Chapter 5

January 2017

Responsibility is the price of freedom.

—Elbert Hubbard

“IT DOESN’T MAKE sense. How could anyone know?” Taylor whispered to Phil.

He shook his head. “How did they know about the restaurant? I bagged these cards, just like the other one. The FBI will have them analyzed. All that matters is that the private viewing box is now clean. You stay with them in there, and I’ll stay outside the door.”

Taylor nodded. As the Rawlings family approached, she looked once again toward Phil. His head-shake was almost indecipherable, but she saw it. She knew that telling Mr. or Mrs. Rawlings about the card that had been left in Nichol’s, or Claire’s seat should and would wait until after the play.

Nichol’s excitement was contagious as she bounced beside her mother. Her little patent-leather shoes danced with anticipation, as her eyes widened and she took in all the grandeur of the Broadway theater. “Look, Momma, look, Daddy, I see the music intruments!”

Claire smiled at Tony and back at Nichol. “In-stru-ments. Yes, honey, that’s the orchestra. See the man with the wand in his hand?”

Nichol turned in amazement. “Like a magic one?”

“No, princess.” Tony’s words came through booming laughter.

“He’s the conductor,” Claire explained. “He’ll tell the orchestra when to play the music. And when he does, he’ll move the wand.”