Truth - Romig Aleatha - Страница 39
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His unexpected need for permission flooded her with admiration. Claire didn’t answer, she wasn’t sure if she could trust her voice. Instead she nodded and leaned toward him.
Harry pressed forward and their lips united. She felt his warm chest against her breasts. It had been so long, she unconsciously molded against him.
They didn’t take it beyond kissing and caressing. However, multiple times throughout her vacation the memories of that gaming session infiltrated her thoughts. Lying in the sun she’d suddenly remember his strong arms, unruly hair, or the scent of his aftershave, and uncontrollably she’d feel a tightening somewhere deep inside. It was an old feeling. However, having it brought about by a new source was surprisingly refreshing.
Now, he was asking if she wanted to play video games. She knew he didn’t mean video games. With a twinkle in her eyes she answered, “I don’t know, do you think I still need lessons?”
Harry glanced toward his sister’s room. Turning back to Claire he whispered, “No, I don’t think you need lessons at all. Maybe we could just play?”
“Hmm now that’s an offer a girl can’t refuse.”
He took her hand and led her toward the door.
She’d been in Harry’s condominium many times. Though smaller than Amber’s, the one bedroom unit was equally lavish in design with quality craftsmanship, wooden floors, handcrafted woodwork, granite counters, and ornamental lighting. Nevertheless, what continued to bring a smile to Claire’s face was his amusingly eclectic decor. While obviously equipped by a man, technology was the main focus. Couches, chairs, and tables were secondary to large screens, speakers, and surround sound. All he needed was a pool table in the dining room to have an official bachelor pad. The first time Claire entered his condominium, she half expected to turn the corner and find one, or perhaps foosball, but surprisingly he did indeed have a real dining room table.
“Would you like anything to drink? I have some Cabernet.” Harry asked as they passed the threshold, into his abode. Claire noticed the low set, indirect lighting. She smirked, wondering if she were indeed that predicable.
“Sure. Do you want me to get the PS3 out?” Claire asked with a grin to her voice.
“Unless, you want to practice your skills on the Wii? It does requires more hands-on, you know, use of your entire body.”
“I’ve never played that.”
He was calling from the kitchen. Claire could hear the pop of the cork. “I bet with a little help, you’ll catch on fast.”
Harry entered the living room and handed her a goblet. Smiling, he leaned in for a kiss.
She absorbed his warm smile and willingly accepted his puckered lips. “Can we talk before we try the Wii?”
“We can do whatever you want.” Harry sat on the sofa.
Claire eased herself a few feet away and turned toward his handsome gaze. She never expected this to be so difficult. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you about a delivery that came just before I left on my trip.”
Harry sat his glass on the coffee table and asked, “Delivery? Did you receive more flowers?”
“Not flowers...” Claire went on to tell him about the note and the clothes. She watched as tension tightened his neck muscles. For someone who was mostly calm, the subject of Anthony Rawlings, in more than an abstract sense, initiated obvious unease.
“And you plan to go on this outing? You plan to get into this car he’s sending?”
“Well, I’ve given that some thought. You see, he still doesn’t know I have his private cell number. So, I’ve decided to call him, but not until Wednesday afternoon. Then I’ll inform him of a change of plans.”
Harry picked up his glass and listened while Claire explained her ideas. She would tell Tony that since she knows the area she made reservations at a nearby restaurant. And, she’d meet him there at seven. She wasn’t sure how it would go, but she wanted the ability to leave of her own free will.
“If I ask you, will you tell me something about your relationship with him?”
Claire sipped her wine, “I don’t know. It’s difficult for me to discuss.” She looked at the man only feet away. She entered his condo willing to take their relationship farther. Did she honestly feel better sharing her body, than her memories? He patiently waited, finally she exhaled, “What do you want to know?”
Harry scooted closer, removed the glass of wine from her hand and placed it on the table. She waited for his question. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushed her neck and he gently kissed that spot between her neck and shoulder. The round scooped neckline of her shirt exposed the sensitive site. Shivering at the light touch of his lips to her skin, tingles descended toward her arms, to her fingers, and down her legs, all the way to her toes.
Claire gasped as she inclined her head, granting him greater access. Before she realized, she was sandwiched between him and his leather sofa. His lips were no longer brushing her skin; they were connecting her lips and skin with a new found urgency. Her body arched as his hands roamed over her tight t-shirt and caressed her lacy bra covered breasts. When her mind caught-up to their actions or more accurately her reactions, she whispered, “I thought you wanted to ask me questions.”
He supported his head, near her face and looked down into her beautiful gaze, “I needed to know if I could ask.” He gently kissed her lips, “Right now, I’d rather do something else.”
Claire smiled and purred, “Good, there’re better things to do right now.” She arched her back, feeling her nipples rub against the weight of his chest and nuzzled his neck. The aroma of his aftershave combined with the stubble on his neck electrified desires she’d compartmentalized away.
There was no question, those desires weren’t gone. They spilled out with a vengeance.
*****
As the airliner taxied to the San Jose gate, Sophia summoned her brightest smile. It wasn’t too difficult. After nearly two weeks of separation, she was truly excited to see her husband. Without fail, they’d spoken every day. Unquestionably, that wasn’t the same as being together. She longed to feel his embrace and taste his lips.
Sophia consulted the screen of her iPhone and retrieved an email she’d received earlier in the day. It wasn’t from Derek, but from Danny, Derek’s new personal assistant. Sophia wondered if the term Personal Assistant was manufactured so men wouldn’t feel awkward being identified as secretaries. Danny not only handled Derek’s business at work, he’d assisted Derek with apartment hunting and learning the area.
The email said Derek would be waiting for her in Terminal B near baggage claim. She felt her anticipation rise as she stood to exit the plane.
With all of Sophia’s experience with international travel, San Jose’s small easy to maneuver airport made locating her desired destination simple. She did however, have trouble locating her husband.
A gentleman in a chauffer’s uniform stood near the baggage carousel. Subconsciously Sophia read his sign: Mrs. Derek Burke.
After three years of marriage she should recognize her name. However, momentarily it confused her. First, she expected Derek. And second, her name was Sophia Burke. Other than on guest books at weddings and funerals, she’s never referred to herself as Mrs. Derek Burke. The sensation of the shutters came back. The clamor of voices dissipated as she listened to the rusty hinges creak. What happened to Sophia Rossi Burke? She wondered.
Sophia sat in the back seat of a company limousine, while the chauffer drove her to Shedis-tics. In an effort to remain calm, she peered through the tinted windows at the unfamiliar terrain. Occasionally she’d see the mountains Derek promised. Admittedly, she enjoyed their blue hue.
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