Truth - Romig Aleatha - Страница 47
- Предыдущая
- 47/147
- Следующая
God she hated him, and not! Her insides tightened as the feelings from last night returned. The inappropriate sensations, deep inside, threatened her irrelevant tone. “I don’t recall availability being an issue for you.”
“Be careful, Claire. That could be interpreted as an invitation.”
“Then once again, you would be misinterpreting.” She stood.
He stood and stepped toward her. She remained strong and defiant, straightening her spine and standing as tall, as her five–four frame would allow. At the same time, she wanted to crumble. Their bodies stood resolute, untouching, separated by inches. Those inches might as well have been miles. The space created a deep chasm, filled with a magnitude of baggage and memories. Impassable, the gorge served as an insurmountable barrier.
Or, could the gap be closed? His voice held more than a hint of sensuality, “I believe you want, what I want, as much as I do.”
Claire feigned strength and ignorance. What had she told Phillip Roach? She said, she didn’t recommend lying to her ex-husband. Yet, here she was, giving it her all. “If you’re suggesting I want you to leave, you are absolutely correct. If you’re suggesting anything else, it couldn’t be farther from the truth.” His cologne penetrated her subconscious, the same exhilarating scent that infiltrated her dreams.
His head bowed slightly. Claire feared he would kiss her. She wanted to back away and at the same time, she wanted to feel his lips on hers. She fought the urge to lift her chin toward him, surrendering her hungry mouth.
The only possible conclusion she could ascertain was Tony was a giant magnet. His pull affected everything, from the rotation of the earth, to her mind’s ability to reason. Losing her battle, she slowly tilted her face upward.
He gently held her chin, as his voice continued with its seductive undertone, “You, my dear, have never been a good liar.”
In a moment of strength, Claire backed away and sat, exasperated. She’d willingly admit defeat in this stupid stare-off. His proximity was more than she could bear. She needed air and space. Her arms once again crossed her heaving bosom, igniting friction on her disloyal nipples. Frustrated, she admitted, “You’re right. Your deceitfulness far exceeds my modest attempts at dishonesty. I bow-down to your superior duplicity.”
Tony retook his seat on the sofa as his knee touched hers. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I thought you should know why I came to California.”
She looked up into his genuine gaze, “Why?”
“To take you back to Iowa.”
Claire stared at her ex-husband. A momentary feeling of panic filled her senses. She sat dumbfounded, unable to respond, afraid to trust her own voice. The appealing idea to slap his smug face and scream at him, danced through her consciousness. She knew she couldn’t do it. She’d already pushed her luck with her earlier verbal tirade. Nevertheless, the fleeting thought made her smile. Simultaneously, she fought the desires she’d been experiencing all night. That traitorous part of her wanted to forget all reason and take whatever he offered, and more. Eventually, wisdom prevailed; she responded, “Well, since this time I have a choice, I’m going to say no.”
“Catherine misses you.”
She searched his face for insincerity and found none. However, she’d misjudged that in the past. The sound of the woman’s name made her heart ache. Claire had no reason to lie, “I miss her, too.” Hesitantly she asked, “Does she believe I tried to kill you?”
His half smile and softened eyes disappeared. Breaking the connection he looked down at his own hands. Shaking his head slightly, he answered, “I’m not sure. We’ve never discussed it. I know at first she was worried about me. Then once I was well, she was upset, but I don’t know for sure if it was at you or at me. The subject’s never come up.”
“Then how do you know she misses me?”
“I just do. When word came of your pardon...”
She interrupted him, “You were angry.”
This time he stood and paced. Claire watched his jaw clench and unclench. She’d seen it before; his attempt to maintain control. Part of her wanted him to lose it, not a masochistic desire, more clarification. The frightening domineering man was much easier to resist than the sensual, apologetic one.
Tony stopped at the large windows. His back toward her, he seemed to be absorbing the view, taking in the mountains and sunlit sky. Silently she waited and watched. Eventually his shoulders squared, and with his back still toward her, she heard his restrained voice, “I was. I admit I was... stunned. Governor Preston informed me of your release two weeks after it occurred.” He emphasized the two weeks. “I was angry at everyone, at you for being pardoned, at Jane Allyson for presenting the petition, at Governor Bosley for signing it. Hell, I was even mad at the clerk that filed it.” He turned toward her. She knew those black eyes. He may have restrained his voice, but his true emotion shone like beacons through his intense gaze. Refusing to look away, Claire met his stare with her own intensity. He went on, “I finally figured out, the person I was the most upset with, was me. For the first time in years, yes more than three – you know that now– I’d lost track of you.” His volume increased, “My god, you were gone!”
There were so many things churning in her brain Claire couldn’t speak. There were statements, accusations, and questions. None would make themselves known. She just watched, knowing she’d done what she’d subconsciously wanted. She’d pushed him to the brink. Tony lingered on the precipice; a slight breeze could push him into a complete meltdown.
Her heart beat rapidly, as he walked toward her. There was no violence. His tone and eyes mellowed. He resumed his seat. “Damn it, Claire. Nothing has been the same without you. The house is just a big empty hole.”
She exhaled and asked, “Tell me why?”
He looked puzzled, “Why is it empty? Because you are not there.”
“No, Tony. Why did you do it to me? Why’d you set me up, worse – arrange my entire life to look as though I was after your money, setting you up for the kill? You know I continually told you, I didn’t care about the money. But everything from the beginning was manipulated to make me look guilty. Now you say you loved me. You don’t do that to someone you love. Tell me why you did it.”
“It isn’t past tense, Claire. I still love you. And I thought you knew why.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“What was in the box, you said you received? What information did you think I revealed?”
She didn’t have time to filter her answers, the words came tumbling out. “There were pictures, articles, and a letter. It all explained that your birth name was Anton Rawls, you changed it after the death of your grandfather and parents.” As the words flowed, she realized the thing she’d been missing. She didn’t say grandparents and parents. What happened to Tony’s grandmother? Could she still be alive? She would be very old. Maybe, she sent Claire the information? Or maybe, she was behind this vendetta. Would it lessen the sting if Claire learned it wasn’t all Tony’s doing?
“Was it handwritten? Where is it? I’d like to see it.”
“Yes, the note was handwritten. I thought it looked like your writing. It wasn’t signed, but you never signed anything.” It was Claire’s turn to look down. “You can’t see it,” She exhaled, “I burned it.”
She heard him laugh, “You what?”
Looking up, squaring her shoulders, she repeated, “I burned it, all of it. I took it to the incinerator at the prison and watched it burn.”
He stared for a moment and exclaimed, “You are serious. You have no proof of anything you just said? You burned it.” His shoulders relaxed. The tension that glued his muscles together, dissipated before her eyes. He continued, “I don’t know who sent it to you. I did confirm, today, that you received a box in October of last year. The prison said the return address was Emily’s.”
- Предыдущая
- 47/147
- Следующая
