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  That wasn’t enough; Tony wanted to hear more. “Tell me what you want. I need to know you want it as much as I do.”

  “Oh, God, Tony, I want you.” Her desires gave strength to her voice. “I want you inside of me.” With her body on the brink of explosion, she implored, “Please, please, Tony, take me.”

  As she held tightly to his broad shoulders, her eyes closed, and he fulfilled her desires. Claire wanted every bit of him—every inch—and now that he was there. It was her turn to lose control. Without effort, her body responded to his every touch. There were no thoughts, only carnal desires as he, more than once, elicited earthshaking convulsions. There was no question, this was consensual, and Claire was getting exactly what she wanted, what she’d asked for, and still wanted more.

  Tony drove to and from the Simmons’ in one of his Mercedes. It was a great ride from the back when Eric drove, but it was even better from the passenger’s seat: smooth and quiet. Tony tuned the satellite radio to a classical station. The warm car, soft music, and smooth ride almost had Claire napping. Her energy wasn’t at its pre-accident level, and her eyes began to close. Catherine told her one time not to act tired, but she wasn’t acting.

  Tony glanced her way and said, “It’s all right. Why don’t you lay the seat back, and I’ll wake you when we arrive.” She did.

  They had a good time with Brent and Courtney. Courtney told Claire a thousand times she needed to gain some weight. The unfortunate accident in the woods left her too thin, but she quickly added, “You’re still beautiful.” After the delicious dinner they retired to the lower level; the Vikings and the Packers were playing. Apparently, Brent and Tony were Vikings fans. Claire wondered how she didn’t know that.

  While they watched the game and argued with the television, Claire and Courtney chatted. It was nice to talk to someone else. Courtney made Claire feel warm and secure. She didn’t pry, but wanted to know about Claire’s accident and recovery. Apparently, Brent told her how upset Tony had been. He couldn’t believe something like that could happen on his land. Did they ever find out if someone had been out in the woods?

  The football game didn’t turn out like the men wanted. Undaunted, they all sipped red wine and played cards. Claire hadn’t played a game in so long. It was truly enjoyable. When they left the Simmons’ home, after 11:00 PM, Courtney hugged Claire, and said, “Now you promise to eat.” Claire nodded. “We’re so happy you’re feeling better.”

  On the way home Tony praised Claire for all she did and said. He also informed her he needed to be in New York the following week. It was up to her if she joined him; however, she may not realize Thursday, of next week, would be Thanksgiving. He couldn’t promise he would be back. He may have to stay until Friday. He’d like her to join him, if she were up to it.

  Claire knew the intense therapy of the last two days had helped revitalize her. “I may need naps, but I want to go.”

  During the week between the Simmons and New York, Claire made strides in her recovery. It was as if a black veil had been lifted. For weeks—even months—the entire world was gray. The release of suppressed emotions, and Tony’s promise, removed the veil. The trees were still leafless and the grass still lacked color, but the world was once again alive.

  Instead of sleeping to get energy, Claire began moving. First, she walked around the house, then swam in the indoor pool, and enjoyed the hot tub. She even ventured to the theater room, and she made herself watch a movie. It was a musical, Hairspray with John Travolta. She smiled. It was her first trip to the theater room since Tony had taken her there.

  Monday evening they flew to New York watching the sky grow dark as they headed east. Eric drove them directly to Tony’s apartment, and Jan waited for their arrival with dinner. From the spectacular view of the seventy-sixth floor, the city vibrantly glistened with lights and activity. They ate in the dining room and watched little cars drive on busy little streets far below.

  That night, exhausted from traveling, they settled into Tony’s bed and he handed Claire a black velvet box. Her shoulders slumped. “Tony, please stop. No more black velvet boxes. I have plenty of jewelry. I love it all, but I don’t need it. I feel bad about you spending all this money on me.”

  “Well, first, if you haven’t noticed, money isn’t an issue, and what good is money if it doesn’t buy the things I want? Besides, this is a special gift.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows.

  He continued, “Somehow, with all that’s happened in the past two months, I made an awful mistake.” She feared he was talking about the accident. “I realized it when I was getting your ID and credit card.”

  Now she knew what he meant; he’d missed her birthday. “It’s all right. I’ve received plenty of gifts lately.” She tried to give him back the box.

  “No!” he declared. “It’s not all right. You had a birthday, your twenty-seventh, on October 17.” He firmly, yet tenderly, held her hands with the box in them, while his tone softened. “The other gifts were because of your accomplishments.” And your guilt, Claire added mentally. “This one is for your birthday.”

  She looked helplessly at the box. He continued, “Okay, I’m a cheapskate.” With a frisky grin he added, “I’m re-gifting, again.”

  Looking at the box Claire pondered the possibilities of his re-gifting. Her eyes opened wide as she lifted the velvet lid to reveal her grandmother’s necklace. It looked perfect, absolutely no evidence of the accident it had endured. She beamed at Tony, closed the box, and put it on the bedside stand. Scooting close to him, she rested her head on his chest as her green eyes gleamed with moisture. “I think you’re doing a great job of enticing me to feel better. I wonder sometimes how I got here.” The fatigue made her head pound. When she closed her eyes moisture escaped as tears onto Tony’s chest. Her shields were down and mask was gone. “I know I’m here because you own me and my debt. Sometimes I feel that way, but other times you make me feel special.” She nuzzled into his warm embrace. Her words slowed as fatigue prevailed. “I don’t know any more if you’re using me or if you care about me, but I know what I hope.”

  He listened as her words ran together.

  “I want you to know it didn’t start this way, but I’m willing to do what you ask, not because of my debt, but because I want you to be happy.” She couldn’t give him gifts in black velvet boxes. She could only give herself.

  He kissed her hair and tasted her scent, mixed with hairspray and perfume. Holding her soft body against his, he replied, “Thank you, for making me happy.” Caressing her silky shoulder, he wanted her—all of her.

  She mumbled into his chest. “Thank you, for helping my necklace, too.” Within seconds her breathing became rhythmic and she drifted to sleep.

  Tony watched as her head rose and fell with each of his breaths. “God help me, I do care about you.” Gently pulling her closer, he tenderly moved her hair away from her angelic face. Seeing her sleep, peaceful and trusting, his thoughts of waking her for his desires were quickly replaced. Instead, he held her close, closed his eyes, and joined her in sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.

  —William Shakespeare

  Tuesday morning bustled with activity. Tony left early for meetings, and Eric chauffeured Claire to the spa for a highlight treatment. During the two months since her last appointment, she’d barely ventured outside. She needed sun and blonde to maintain her hair. The sun wasn’t going to happen, but the blonde could. Claire agreed to a hair appointment and a manicure but declined other services. The idea of having a massage, someone touching her, made her very uncomfortable.

  After her appointment, she had Eric bring her back to the apartment where she rested until Tony returned in the evening. He informed her they had plans for the following evening. He also asked if she went shopping. She explained, “I waited for you here. My head ached and I think traveling wore me out. I was just too tired.”

  The answers didn�
�t please him, but he didn’t complain or argue.

  Wednesday late afternoon, Claire prepared for their plans. She didn’t know what he had planned or where they were going, only to be ready by 5:00 PM. The night before, Tony had looked through the closet and inspected the clothes Catherine packed. After only brief scrutiny, Tony announced that nothing she brought would do for their plans. He wanted her to wear something special, something she chose, and everything brand-new.

  Her assignment took her the better part of the day. She left the apartment early in the morning and visited Manhattan, Soho, and the Upper East Side. All of her work eventually paid off. She’d done it. Actually, she’d gotten her new outfit and a few more items. Due to her post accident leaner body, she decided some new slacks, jeans, and sweaters were in order. She refused to even calculate the total of her expenditures. Tony would know with a click of his computer, but she wasn’t concerned. He liked her to spend money. With Eric available to get her packages, the shopping was getting easier. Her new outfit consisted of a black one-shouldered silk crepe dress with a long-sleeved overlay from a quaint little boutique in Soho. The Valentino bow pumps were a perfect match from Nordstrom’s. The Kate Spade shoulder bag and stretch wool long coat came from Saks. Due to the cool November temperature the associate recommended hosiery. When Claire was shown the thigh-high sheer hose, she knew she’d be able to cover her legs and follow Tony’s rules at the same time. Of the extra items she found, her favorite was a cashmere hoodie, dusty rose and amazingly soft. It’d be perfect for snuggling up at home with a book on a cold winter day.

  Something about the thought of home meaning Tony’s house perplexed Claire. She decided it was what it was. As he’d put it: her actions in Chicago resulted in the consequence of needing him to keep her from having more accidents. It wasn’t up for debate. She also knew things could be considerably worse than snuggling with a book, by the fire, in her suite, in her cashmere hoodie, and some comfortable jeans. She did her best to compartmentalize. It made the fire, book, and hoodie all very pleasant.

  Tony entered the bedroom as she stood before the mirror wearing a black silk robe and working on her hair. She knew, during her recovery, he’d only visited his district offices via Internet. He’d sent Timothy to do some of his bidding, but his presence had more influence. Some things needed to be dealt with in person. If his mood was any indication, the business dealings were going well.

  Her hair was pinned up and she’d been curling the ends when Tony came up behind her and kissed her neck. The contact ignited an immediate fire within her soul. Although her busy day had only allowed a short nap, his kiss sparked her to full alert.

  “Good evening, Claire. I trust you were successful today with your shopping endeavors?”

  She happily reported that she’d done very well—even finding some extra items.

  His grin showed his approval. “I can’t wait to see tonight’s ensemble.”

  Claire watched in the mirror as Tony disappeared into the dressing room to prepare for his shower. Seconds later, her insides tightened as he returned to the bedroom completely nude. Momentarily, their eyes met in the reflection. Seemingly distracted from his shower, Tony moved behind Claire, wrapped his arms around her and maneuvered his large hands beneath her flimsy robe. As he caressed her soft skin, he neared his lips to her neck and whispered, “Do you think joining me in the shower would be detrimental to your hair and make-up?” He nuzzled her neck.

  She inhaled his intoxicating scent as his chin’s stubble triggered goose bumps on her arms and legs. “I think it would,” she answered, unconvincingly.

  “Then perhaps we should plan it for another time?” His hands didn’t obey his words and continued to fondle.

  “Or… we could postpone your plans?” Claire closed her eyes, tilted her head against his chest, and massaged his strong arms. As she turned to face him, she smiled at his physical reaction to their proximity. Obviously, he was happy to be near her.

  Though his gravelly voice resonated in her ears, it successfully elicited pulsations elsewhere in her body. “Oh, God, I want to, but we have plenty of time for that. Tonight, I have special plans for you.” He slowly stepped back, but before he released his touch, he said, “And, so far you look amazing. I believe I like your outfit now better than the one you bought.”

  With her robe now lying in a black silk puddle on the floor, Claire’s cheeks blushed, and she flashed a modest smile. “It’s November. I believe I’d get cold as we walk the streets of New York.” Her voice reflected Tony’s playfulness.

  “Perhaps, but if I have anything to do with it, cold is not what you would be feeling.”

  After a lingering kiss, Claire watched him disappear into the bathroom. Shaking her head, she retrieved her robe and secured the tie. It truly amazed her how he was able to flip a switch and immediately send her entire body into mayhem. Though she tried to concentrate on her breathing and resume her work on her hair, her thoughts continually went to the next room: thinking about Tony’s steamy shower and slippery soap suds.

  When Tony re-entered the bedroom, Claire was dressed. His gaze lingered. “I think you look stunning.” His expression didn’t seem to be in full agreement with his words. Lifting the hem of her dress, his fingers traced the top of her new hosiery, and his grin broadened. “My! What will they think of next? Very good.” He lightly kissed her lips.

  Claire smiled. He was so predictable. Well, sometimes.

  By the time they reached the front doors of the building, Eric had the limousine warm and ready for their adventure. Once in the back of the car, Claire asked Tony about their plans. He would only disclose that their first stop was dinner. The cold crisp night air formed crystals on the windows of the limousine, making the lights of the city shimmer. The crystals seemed to flash rhythmically with intensity mimicking the hum of music coming from the cabin’s speakers.

  It didn’t take long, considering the traffic, to reach their destination: the Crown Plaza Hotel on Broadway, in the heart of New York’s theater district. Once inside, Tony directed Claire to Brasserier 1605, a beautiful restaurant bustling with patrons. The hostess immediately ushered them to a romantic table with a stunning view of Times Square. The waiter seemed to know their timetable better than Claire, providing exceptionally efficient service. Tony ordered a bottle of wine, approved a taste, and the waiter poured two glasses. They enjoyed delicious grilled sea diver scallops for their appetizer and seared Atlantic salmon as their main course. Claire thought everything tasted scrumptious. Along with other sensory organs recently reawakened, she had a newfound appreciation for food. She enjoyed the aroma as the plate appeared in front of her, the taste on her tongue, and the texture as she chewed. Tony watched happily as she delighted in each bite of her seafood.

  His mood amused Claire. It seemed different, in a positive way. He talked excessively, yet not about anything in particular. She asked when they were going back to Iowa, and he said he did need to have a few meetings on Friday. So, they could leave Friday night or wait until Saturday. Claire felt bad about not being with Catherine on Thanksgiving. She would love to be with John and Emily, but knew better than to ask. Catherine had become her closest family. She hoped Catherine had someone to visit for the holiday.

  Tony wouldn’t give hints about their next destination. Being in the Theater District, Claire guessed they were on their way to a show. Smiling, he refused to tell her which one. After dinner Eric appeared to chauffeur them to the Broadhurst Theater. The title on the marquee read The Merchant of Venice with Al Pacino. Claire had heard it was one of the hottest tickets in town. They, of course, had amazing seats. She’d never been a Shakespearean fan, yet in no time at all, she became completely engrossed in the play. By the time it ended she’d laughed and cried. The entire cast’s performances were riveting, taking her to another world for two hours and completely draining her with the range of sweeping emotions. She was ready to go back to the apartment.

  Eric waited for them
as they left the theater. Tony didn’t ask Claire where she wanted to go next. She assumed they’d be heading to the apartment; therefore, when Eric went another direction she was surprised. They headed north to Fifty-Ninth Street, and Eric stopped at Seventh Avenue: at Central Park.

  The cold crisp air awakened her as they moved from the warm limousine to the waiting horse-drawn carriage. The horseman was prepared for the brisk weather with blankets, and Eric supplied mittens and scarves. To keep warm, they snuggled under the blankets, held mittened hands, and observed the beautiful park with lights lining the paths and illuminating some of the trees. The large strong horse pulled the carriage slowly and steadily around the eight hundred plus acres. The methodical trot rhythmically created a cadence for their dialogue. Their noses and cheeks reddened in the cool air as they cuddled, talked, and enjoyed the incredibly romantic setting.

  Gently holding Claire’s mittened hand, Tony spoke honestly with love. “Claire, you know I’ve dated many women.” She said she’d read about some. “There have been women who’ve wanted to date me solely for my money, and I admit to taking advantage of that.” His honesty had her full attention. “You know I’m a private person. Truly there are few people who have seen the real me. There are all sorts of psychological reasons for why I am the way I am. They probably stem from childhood and traumas early in life, but the past is that, and the reasons don’t matter. What matters is that unlike many of my business associates or acquaintances, you’ve met the real me.” That thought made her feel slightly uneasy. “There are sides to me that need subduing. Honestly, I’ve never cared to try, but I do now, and I believe it’s possible.”

  She continued to listen. His soft brown eyes held her gaze as he continued, “Claire, the other night you asked me if I cared about you. Honestly, with our initial arrangement, I never intended to, but without a doubt, I do.” She saw something new in his expression, something she didn’t recognize. He asked, “Do you care about me? Do you enjoy being with me?”