Behind His Eyes: Consequences Page 5

  “I do.”

  “I’ve been asked to attend this event because of a donation I made to the Quad City Symphony and the Support the Arts Foundation. Have you ever been to a symphony before?”

  “No.”

  “The symphony is a delightful evening. I believe you’ll enjoy the music. This conductor is incredibly talented.”

  “Thank you, Anthony, for allowing me to join you this evening.”

  “I admit you’ve learned your lessons well. Now it’s time to see if you can continue to follow the rules outside the boundaries of my estate.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Anthony reached for Claire’s chin, turned it toward him, and slowed his words. “You will succeed. Failure in a public setting is not an option.”

  He locked his eyes on hers and waited for an appropriate response. It didn’t take long. “Yes, Anthony. I will continue to follow your rules.”

  “I assume you’re currently following all of my rules?” He lifted a brow.

  Claire nodded as her cheeks flushed.

  “We can investigate that later,” Anthony taunted as he placed his hand on her thigh.

  When he moved his hand upward, she whispered, “I am.”

  He already knew the answer. First, she didn’t own any panties, and as he helped her into the car, he’d allowed his hand to graze her firm behind. If there’d been anything under the beaded fabric, he would’ve known. He only mentioned his rule as a reminder of his authority. Anthony knew from Catherine that his forbiddance of undergarments continued to make Claire uncomfortable. He wanted Claire to remember as she interacted with strangers that he controlled everything. There was nothing he couldn’t do to her, or make her do. Exposing her in public with absolutely nothing under her expensive dress reinforced his stance.

  When the car slowed and stopped, Anthony whispered, “Wait for Eric. He’ll open the door and assist you in getting out. I’ll be right behind you, and we’ll enter the theater together.”

  As he glanced out the limousine’s window, Anthony realized that he’d underestimated the importance of this event. It may be only Davenport, Iowa, but the sidewalk was roped off and cluttered with reporters. If Claire chose to stand before them and make a public announcement about kidnapping, even he might not be able to manage damage control.

  Although he was glad that he’d just reminded Claire of his rules, he worried if it had been enough. He didn’t have time to discuss the consequences of failure. As soon as they were out of the car, Anthony put his hand in the small of her back and directed her away from the reporters. The contact served as her reminder—her warning. By the time they reached the second level and cocktails, people were coming from every direction.

  It was as he handed Claire a glass of champagne that his anxiety began to wane. He saw in her eyes—those green eyes—her unfulfilled need for his approval. This time, he smiled and whispered in her ear, “You are truly lovely tonight.” Instantaneously, he knew that Claire wouldn’t disappoint him. She wouldn’t escape or make a public announcement. It wasn’t her words; she hadn’t spoken. It was her countenance—he just knew. Each time he introduced her or she spoke, she impressed him with her performance. When the lights flashed, he guided her to their private box. It was a place where he’d sat many times—just a box; nonetheless, Claire scanned the auditorium like a child surveying the tree on Christmas morning.

  He reminded himself that she hadn’t seen anything, other than his estate, in over two months.

  Before he could process her behavior and allow the relief of her compliance to truly settle in, the auditorium darkened, and the curator began to speak—it was about him. Suddenly, the spotlight hit their box, and Anthony did what he’d always done—appeared the perfect gentleman. The entire time he smiled and waved, he imagined the possibility of Claire jumping up and running for the hills. As he sat back down, her expression was unexpectedly pleasant. He leaned over and gently took her hand. Quite honestly, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t or hadn’t taken from her. She belonged to him—all of her. They had a contract. He reached for her hand for one reason. It was an unspoken warning, just as when he touched the small of her back. The contact was his silent reminder to follow his rules.

  When the last song ended and the conductor faced the crowd, Anthony looked toward his acquisition. The evening had gone even better than he imagined. His mind swirled with the possibilities of future events. It would be a relief to not have to deal with other women and their baggage. With this arrangement, he could do anything he wanted and, apparently, still be accompanied by the perfect companion. When Claire whispered her gratitude in his ear, Anthony knew she deserved something for her behavior—a positive consequence.

  In the limousine, he watched as she fidgeted near the window. The confidence from the theater seemed to dissipate into the cool evening air. Before he could give it much more thought, she turned toward him. Her voice filled the quiet cabin. “That was a magnificent evening. Thank you, again.”

  Her sudden surge of straightforwardness caught him by surprise. “Do you really think so?”

  “I do. The music was performed beautifully, and you were right about the conductor.” After a pause, she asked, “Did I do all right?”

  “What do you think?” he taunted.

  After a moment, she replied, “I think I did well. I listened to Catherine, and to you, and d-did well.”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the trepidation in her voice; however, if she were to accompany him on future outings, positive reinforcement was in order. He was prepared. Anthony reached into his briefcase and found the black velvet box. He didn’t know that Claire would be accompanying him until this afternoon and didn’t have time to buy anything; then he remembered the old necklace he’d found in her apartment. While he was home, he put it in his briefcase in anticipation of just such an occasion.

  Extending the box toward her, he softened his tone. “I believe you did well. I’ve told you that every action has a consequence. That can be negative—as we’ve seen—or positive. I believe that tonight you earned a positive consequence.”

  “Anthony, I don’t need a gift. I wanted to make you proud. If I did that, then I’m happy and that’s enough.”

  “It’s a gift, or at least I believe it was; however, it’s not new.” He continued to hold the box in her direction. Her tentative response caused his cheeks to rise. She was so unlike the other women he’d dated. Curiously, he asked, “Will it always be this difficult to get you to open gifts?”

  She took the box. “You have my curiosity piqued. What are you giving me that’s old?”

  Before he could answer, she lifted the lid. When she looked up, tears silently glided down her cheeks. He’d seen her cry before—this was different. He listened as she choked back her emotion. “H-how did you … where did you get this? It was my grandmother’s.”

  “It was in your apartment in Atlanta when it was cleaned out. I thought you might want to have it. Do you?” He watched as Claire internalized his words. In essence, he’d just told her that her old life was now cleaned out, disposed of—gone. She hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t informed her, but now it was confirmed. Anthony waited for her to respond.

  “Oh, yes, I do!”

  Her concentration on the necklace and acceptance of her apartment’s fate satisfied him more than he’d expected. It confirmed that the old Claire Nichols was ceasing to exist, and with each passing day, the woman before him was new and created solely for his liking. His cheeks rose with the unexpected wave of relief. Eagerly, he asked, “Would you like me to help you put it on?”

  Claire nodded and turned away as he draped the delicate chain around her neck. Past experience confirmed that the woman he initially acquired from Atlanta would’ve dwelled on her loss and become emotionally distraught. Claire’s steadily improving behavior filled Anthony with pride. He’d done this! There wasn’t a challenge that Anthony Rawlings couldn’t overcome. Perhaps some of the credit sh
ould go to Catherine. Either way, he was enjoying the benefits of their dedication to their project.

  As he fastened the clasp and the tips of his fingers touched her warm skin, Anthony remembered why he liked Claire’s hair styled up. He leaned nearer to taste her exposed neck, but before his lips contacted her skin, she bent forward and pulled a small compact from her purse. A reprimand was on the tip of his tongue, when he realized that she hadn’t moved away from him. She was still too wrapped up in the necklace to sense his intentions.

  Her gaze flitted from the small mirror to him, as she said, “Anthony, there isn’t a necklace you could’ve bought that would mean more to me than this one.”

  He’d seen many emotions in her emerald eyes, but what he saw at that moment gave him an unexplained sense of contentment. Anthony’s thumb gently brushed her cheek, confirming that her tears from earlier were dry, unexpectedly her lids fluttered, and she moved toward his touch. Anthony knew that many times her words were false. He didn’t consider it deception, but rather obedience. She said what she was expected to say and did what she was expected to do. There were also times when her expression failed to hide her trepidation, and he saw her true exposed reaction. This moment was different—real, not contrived—but honestly pleasant. He’d planned to give her the necklace as a reward, if she performed well; however, what he said next hadn’t been planned. “People who know me well, and they’re numbered, call me Tony. You may call me Tony.”

  “Thank you, Tony,” she replied. “This has been an amazing night. How can I ever thank you?”

  He pulled her close, feeling the pressure of her breasts against his chest. Turning off the riding lights, he smiled a devilish grin. “I have a few ideas.”

  Claire’s glance darted toward the dark glass partition separating the back from the front of the car.

  Tony laughed. “I promise we’re alone; Eric can’t see or hear us.” He leaned toward her. She instinctively reached for his neck and settled onto the long leather seat. As he hovered mere inches above, he watched her cheeks flush, and his erection came to life. Over the past few months, Claire had learned to respond to Tony’s commands—both verbal and otherwise. There‘d been times when she’d hesitated. It was on those occasions that she earned the punishment she deserved. Turning his tone more serious, he raised a brow and demanded, “Now, show me that you’ve followed my rules. I want to see.”

  Claire’s immediate response fortified the pride of his accomplishment. She maintained their gaze as her small hand fumbled for the hem of her dress. “I can’t reach—”

  Tony wouldn’t let her finish—he couldn’t. He needed to taste her. Entwining his fingers in her loose ringlets of hair, he tilted her lips upward and heard a small moan before his mouth seized hers. Unable to soften his approach, he took what was his. It wasn’t enough—he wanted more. When his tongue probed, her lips parted, allowing him to enter her warmth. Tony savored her sweetness as her arms once again encircled his neck. With his other hand, he reached for the hem of her dress and the cabin filled with her whimpers of anticipation.

  He slowly lifted the beaded material and teasingly brushed her inner thigh. “Open your legs for me,” he commanded.

  She obeyed and he continued to caress her soft skin. When her breathing labored and he neared his destination, Tony stopped. Releasing her hair, he sat up and gazed down at her blushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, and nearly exposed body. Grinning, he murmured, “You were amazing tonight.”

  Softly, she replied, “Thank you.”

  Taking her in, he reminded her. “But the night isn’t over.” His playful tone vanished. “Now, lift your dress and let me see if you have truly behaved.”

  Slowly reaching for the length of material, Claire kept her eyes fixed on his. As the material rose, she replied, “I promise, Tony. I’ve followed your rules.”

  He couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked—offering herself to him. That, combined with the sound of her calling him by his personal name, was enough to release the painful tightness in his slacks. It seemed unreal that he could be on the verge of exploding, and she’d yet to touch him. Surprisingly, at that moment, that wasn’t what he wanted. He yearned for something else, and they both knew his desires came first.

  Taking off his jacket and then his tie, Tony continued to devour Claire with his intensifying gaze. He couldn’t look away as she silently watched his every move. When he slowly and deliberately moved to his knees and grinned, he sensed her relief. It intoxicated him that something as insignificant as a change in his facial expression could influence her world. Beckoned by her scent, his sultry tone returned. “Yes, I would say you have been a very good girl.”

  He lifted each one of her soft, smooth calves, savoring their shape while in the high heels, and rested them on his broad shoulders. With his intentions clear, Claire tipped her head back against the leather seat. Soon, her moans from earlier returned and grew louder. When her fingers gripped the leather seat, and he knew that she was about there, he stopped. It was his private game, but she was learning the rules.

  “Tell me,” he commanded.

  “Anth—Tony, please.”

  “Tell me who you belong to.”

  “You, I belong to you.” She fidgeted against the leather.

  “Because,” he prompted.

  “You own me.”

  “Until?” He taunted her, teasing, kissing, and suckling her inner thigh.

  “Please!” She took in a deep breath. “Until you decide.”

  “Say it.”

  “You own me until you decide.”

  “Good girl. Perhaps—” he reached for her skirt, bunched around her waist.

  “Please,” she begged, holding tightly to the material. “Please, don’t stop.”

  Grinning and satisfied, Tony resumed his quest. Oh, there were times he’d leave her like this—unsatisfied—and make her switch places. It would be then that she would fulfill her duty. Of course, she didn’t have the option to stop or taunt. Other times, he’d take the conversation further, making her tell him the amount of money he’d spent to secure her financial freedom.

  Not tonight. Tonight Tony wanted to experience the benefits of her positive consequence. It didn’t take long before he did.

  Failure is no more a permanent condition than success! For even if you succeed, there’s still another test.

  —Gene Bedley

  As Eric approached the house, Tony took in the dark windows and glanced at the corner of his iPhone—after 10:00 PM. Since Claire’s windows faced toward the backyard and woods, he couldn’t see them or her balcony. He could imagine them and her suite … and her in her suite, with no other purpose than to wait for him. It was a thought that seemed to be recurring more and more often, slipping unexpectedly into his consciousness. Why not? She was in his house solely for his pleasure and enjoyment, and after the day and evening he’d just had, he deserved some him time.

  After three months, he admitted—at least to himself—that this arrangement was working better than he ever predicted. Each test he presented, or that presented itself, solidified his control and power over Claire’s life. He controlled everything about her—almost. Tony had allowed Catherine to share in his power, to a point. He set boundaries and Catherine adhered to them. She couldn’t overturn any of his decisions. Tony didn’t want Claire to think she could pit one of them against the other. Besides, Catherine’s reign dealt with mundane day-to-day issues—clothing and schedules. Tony controlled the more important matters, and of course, if he decided to trump Catherine’s plans for a day, he did.

  That would happen on days that Tony decided to work from home. He’d made it clear that when he was home, Claire was to be available to him at all times. On those days, he’d not only trump Catherine’s plans, but Claire’s too.

  From the first time he’d allowed Claire access to the grounds of the estate, Tony saw how much she enjoyed that little liberty. Without saying it, she savored those outings as her o
wn personal escape. The fact that she willingly and of her own accord returned to the house at her appointed time, appeased his sense of control, enticing him to allow that privilege to continue.

  Each morning Claire followed a routine that included swimming and weights. Tony enjoyed the benefits of her workout and had no desire to stop that activity; however, by 10:00 AM on the days that he worked from home, her plans no longer mattered. She was expected to be in his office. Sometimes he’d acknowledge her presence; other times he’d be preoccupied. It didn’t matter. On those days, her time, her schedule, and her body were at his disposal. He found it as intoxicating to make her sit and waste her day as it was to use her services. One of the best aphrodisiacs he knew was looking up from his computer or watching during a telephone call as Claire looked longingly out the window. Hell—he’d even find himself imagining that scene while in his corporate office.

  As he walked through the dimly lit hallway toward his office, his anticipation grew. The day had been long. There was no better word. It wasn’t bad or upsetting; it wasn’t good or rewarding—it was long. Not only were there multiple big deals and negotiations in the works, Tony had to spend the evening at a dinner meeting that turned into a few drinks and more negotiations. Public outings weren’t his thing.

  Fundraisers and social functions that could double as tests were increasingly more fun. Being a multi-tasker extraordinaire, Tony could shake hands, carry on a conversation, and monitor Claire’s every move. That said, his preferred evening destination was more intimate, and lately had become even more inviting. At the end of a long day, he wanted to be behind the iron gates of his estate.