Inside the top side drawer of his desk, Tony found Claire’s driver’s license. For a long time it had been stashed away with other items from her apartment, but just like her grandmother’s necklace, it was time to present Claire with a new gift. A grin came to his lips as he considered the small card; it would have a companion, or should he say, a tool for a test. The companion card arrived to his office earlier in the week. It was an American Express platinum card with Claire’s name embossed upon the front. He planned to tell her that it was her reward for her recent public behavior—that wouldn’t be a total fabrication. The way she handled the reporter recently was stellar; she’d been presented with an opportunity to reveal her true status and chose instead to abide by his rules. Nonetheless, providing her limited access to a credit card and her driver’s license had other benefits. Over the last two months, she’d been seen with him on multiple occasions; he needed a cover story. If she ever attempted to reveal the truth, he needed something to make her accusations seem implausible. What better cover than his money? He’d taken away her debt—he could prove that. With her new credit card, she wouldn’t only be seen as his companion, but as a woman spending his money. No one would believe that she wasn’t enjoying his fortune of her own free will.
When he first brought Claire to Iowa, he wasn’t sure how involved the plan would become. Each day presented additional choices and decisions. Thus far, in his opinion, Tony had developed the perfect plan—one that continued to weave fresh possibilities. As each new thread was revealed and sewn into place, Tony’s omnipotence grew. There wasn’t an angle he hadn’t considered.
He placed her driver’s license and the credit card into a small, feminine leather wallet, flung his jacket on the desk chair, and headed toward Claire’s suite. The summer heat was sweltering, and the loss of one layer of clothing felt liberating as he briskly walked up the backstairs. Mindlessly, he imagined that in a very short time he’d be losing more layers. It was a scenario that had been playing in his head over and over throughout the god-awful dinner meeting. Grinning, he wondered if that was what had kept him from going off and telling his dinner guests what he really thought of their ideas.
Often, when he first got home, Tony would go to his suite or office and relax before joining Claire. On those days, he turned on the feed to her suite and watched as she prepared for his arrival. Tonight, it was too late for him to check the video feed, and honestly, he was too anxious to use her and forget his long day. It didn’t matter. Her behavior had become reassuringly predictable.
In stunned disbelief, Tony opened Claire’s door to an empty suite. He walked to the closet/dressing room and then to the bathroom. With each unoccupied space, his sense of gratitude for her recent obedience swiftly morphed into a combination of alert and anger. Where the hell was she? Why wasn’t she where she was supposed to be?
Throwing the wallet—the reward he’d meant to present to her—onto her table, he stormed out of her suite. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he called out for Catherine. She’d better damn well know Claire’s whereabouts. As he turned the corner, the glow of the pool’s colored lights illuminated the windows at the back of the sunporch. The movement of the water caught his attention. He’d found Claire.
He stood unseen within the darkened room and watched her every move. It was like his hidden cameras, but somehow more intimate. Claire moved slowly, floating on her back and staring up to the sky. It wasn’t that he gave his acquisition much thought; however, there were times that it amazed him that Claire could find pleasure in the most mundane of activities.
As he watched, his thoughts of anger and betrayal returned. She was outside enjoying a swim, when she was supposed to be available to him! She had the whole damn day to do whatever she wanted. Disappointment and fury overcame him. Perhaps he was wrong to present her with a new freedom. After all, he’d thought they were past reinforcing the most basic of his rules.
Cloaked in the shadow of the night, he stepped from the house and approached the pool. Within seconds his linen shirt dampened and clung to his back. Each step away from the air conditioning reminded him of the oppressive summer heat. Even in the darkness, he felt the heat of the day’s intense sun roll off the concrete deck. His voice boomed over the hum of the pool’s filter and the distant call of country crickets. “Claire, what in the hell are you doing?”
She didn’t move as she blissfully floated, staring upward. Momentarily, Tony followed her gaze. It was a sky and there were stars. He saw no reason for her to give it her full attention. “Claire, get out of the damn water!”
Each insubordination added fuel to his nearly combustible disposition. Walking out of the shadows to the edge of the pool, he saw how the brightly illuminated water ebbed and flowed over Claire’s flat stomach and her bathing-suit-clad breasts moved with her steady breathing. Her hair floated in a halo around her face, and the streaks of blonde that infiltrated her chestnut hair reflected the fountain’s colorful display. She wasn’t watching the stars: her eyes were closed. His volume decreased, but his tone remained determined. “Claire, you know better. You know my rules. You’re supposed to be in your suite.”
It was then her eyes sprang wide and she righted herself, beginning to tread water and twist her head from side to side. “Tony, you startled me. Catherine said you wouldn’t be home until late.”
He stared at her for a moment, waiting—he wasn’t sure for what, perhaps an apology, perhaps an explanation. She continued to tread water as she looked up at him with her damn green eyes. It wasn’t his plan for the evening, but as the perspiration dripped from his shoulder blades to the middle of his back, Tony knew what he wanted.
Without speaking, he stepped back into the darkness and ridded himself of his encumbering clothing. With each article removed, he felt the weight of the day lift, as oppression transformed into a newfound source of energy. His goal for the night—his chosen activity—hadn’t changed. Tony knew what he wanted, and without question, it would be his. The destination of his conquest was truly insignificant, and besides, the water looked increasingly inviting. Moments later he dove into the colorful liquid and seized the object of his quest.
He didn’t need to ask permission or engage in customary expected conversation. She was his for the taking. When he surfaced mere inches away, he wrapped his arms around her body, and Claire gasped. Her soft, cool skin did nothing to cool his desire. Turning her to face him, his mouth emphasized his claim while his skillful fingers removed the top of her bathing suit. A simple pull of two strings and her round supple breasts were his for the taking.
The pressures of the day and the disappointment of her empty suite erupted in a force of energy he had no wish to control. As her hard nipples pressed against his chest and their tongues united, his anger waned. The fury that had been building found a new outlet. Walking toward the deep end of the pool, he tugged at the strings on the side of her bathing suit bottom and it too floated to the depths.
Lifting Claire momentarily away, his eyes scanned up and down her newly exposed flesh. Dutifully, her gaze met his. Releasing his hold, her small hands reached for his shoulders. It may have been due to the depth of the water, but that was not what Tony chose to believe. In his mind, it was her silent way of accepting what he had to offer. As she wrapped her legs around his torso, he fought the urge to take her right then. He could do whatever he desired, but rushing was not his plan.
When his mouth once again found her breasts, his teeth nipped at the hard nubs, and his fingers explored and caressed. Her wordless moans encouraged, and despite the coolness of the water, when Claire’s back arched, allowing him better access, his body responded.
No longer was he thinking about his day at work or his dinner meeting. Even memories of Claire’s empty suite were lost to their new world. No one else existed within their colorful abyss. He nipped and taunted, cheered on by Claire’s wordless sounds. He watched as her beautiful body stiffened and convulsed within his hold. By the tim
e she fell slack against his shoulder, tried to steady her breathing, and held tightly to his neck, Tony knew what he wanted next. Carrying her to the steps, he helped her from the pool. She took his hand and followed him on wobbly legs to one of the large cushioned lounge chairs hidden in the shadows. Even in the darkness, he watched as her eyes fluttered and her body accepted him without question. He didn’t need to verbally direct her movements. A simple touch and she responded to his desire.
With their bodies damp and their breath resuming normal inhales and exhales, Tony grinned. He watched the clouds of uncertainty dissipate from her emerald eyes as they glistened with the reflection of the pool’s fountains. “Good evening, Claire.” Her responding smile quickly faded when he added, “I wasn’t happy when you weren’t in your suite.” He touched her lips, stopping whatever it was that she was about to say, and continued, “But your idea of a swim on this hot evening was much better than what I had planned.” As the words left his lips, Tony felt her body relax and watched her smile return.
Allowing his own grin to emerge, Tony asked, “Maybe we should go back into the water to cool off again?”
“That sounds nice,” she agreed, as she willingly placed her small hand in his, and followed him back into the pool.
By the time they’d returned to Claire’s suite and showered, Tony remembered his gift. The sight of her walking toward her side of the bed, wrapped in only a black silk robe almost pushed the conversation from his thoughts; however, he was interested in her reaction. He recognized that the best weapon in his arsenal that had worked to keep her compliant was her seclusion. Even with the vast expanse of his estate, she had limited personal interaction. Tony wasn’t sure if she had truly accepted her fate, or if she were just so lonely that she would settle for his presence. Either way, it was obvious that Claire craved interaction. Whenever he presented the opportunity, she could talk for hours. Sometimes she spoke about her family or her previous life, but mostly it was about books or movies or nothing at all. During those times, it was as if a day’s or a week’s worth of conversation had been backlogged and suddenly released. He didn’t mind. Actually, Tony learned a lot about Claire Nichols during those times.
As Claire was about to untie her robe, Tony pulled back the covers and patted the bed at his side. On most nights, Claire would lie down and silently wait for him to come to her. Her eyes darted to his, searching for the reason for his invitation. He smiled in response.
When she secured the silk, sat on the bed, and turned toward him, he purposely lowered his brow and shook his head. “No, Claire, the robe needs to go.” With as many times as he’d seen her nude, it amazed him that she still held an air of modesty. He liked to push her to the edge of her comfort zone. Oh, who was he kidding? He liked to take her out of that zone. Watching her silent battle of wills, as she fought with what he told her to do and what she wanted or felt was proper, was addicting. He could do it all day.
After removing the robe, she worked her way across the expanse of the large mattress. He reached out and brushed a damp lock of hair from her face. Even without makeup, her eyes were stunning. They spoke to him in ways her lips would not. He knew her question before she asked; nevertheless, he waited for her to speak. “Why do you want me over here?” He enjoyed her directness. God knew, his request could be anything.
“I wanted to talk.”
Her eyes lit as if someone had hit a switch. “Really?”
He smiled as he motioned for her to sit next to him. With her tucked against his shoulder, he allowed his fingertips to caress the softness of her shoulder.
Finally, she asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
“Your behavior.” Her muscles went rigid. Tony lowered his tenor and commanded, “Claire, look at me.” Her eyes slowly moved to his. Grinning at her obvious trepidation, he reassured. “Your behavior has been very good, and I believe you deserve a reward.”
“Tony, I—”
“I’m specifically referencing the University of Iowa’s Children’s Hospital event.”
Claire exhaled, her tension dissipated, and her body molded against the pillow. Tony marveled at how her warm, small frame fit perfectly under the crook of his arm. As she spoke, the sound of relief filled her voice. It seemed that as of late, she’d learned to control her words, especially when she was apprehensive or concerned; however, when she was comfortable, she spoke more freely. Surprisingly, he found that equally as rewarding. After all, with whom else did she have to talk? It was another of her needs that only he could fill. She rambled on. “I was so afraid. I was afraid that he’d get me to say something or misinterpret something that I said. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I—”
Shifting, she stopped talking and he felt the sensation of her warmth as their skin united. Nearing his lips toward hers, he reassured, “That was perfect.” Softness filled the emerald shining back at him. Though his tone was soft, a certain part of his body was becoming painfully hard. “I have rules, Claire. Sometimes I need to be assured of your dedication to your job. To do that, I’ve presented you with tests, and there will be more in the future. Sometimes you’ll pass those tests; sometimes you won’t. What happens if you don’t?”
“There will be consequences.”
He grinned. “And what happens if you pass?”
Her expression brightened. “There will be consequences—good ones.”
“Very good.” His fingertips slowly traced an invisible track from her ear, down her neck, over her shoulder, down the curve of her breast, to her stomach, and back up the other side. With each pass, the track dipped lower and lower. A hint of sultriness entered his authoritative tone. “When we’re out in public, your behavior is a reflection of me. How do I feel about public failure?”
Her hips lifted toward his touch, yet she obediently responded. “You … don’t like it.”
“I don’t.” He nibbled her neck. “If that would happen, I’d be disappointed.” He reached for her chin. “Claire, do you want to disappoint me?”
“No …” Her legs opened, accommodating, allowing, and inviting his actions.
Tony couldn’t continue this conversation much longer. “Open your eyes.” She obeyed. “You should know, that reporter wasn’t a planned test.” She nodded. “But if it had been, you would have passed. That’s why I believe you’ve earned the right to have more responsibilities and independence.” He had her full attention. “On your table is a wallet. Inside that wallet you’ll find your driver’s license and a credit card. They’re for you to use when I’m not around.”
The sudden shock at his gift was evident. “What do you mean, when you aren’t around?”
He chuckled. “No, Claire, I’m not setting you free; you have more debt to pay and you need my guidance. You’ve learned so much in this short time, and you have much more to learn. You won’t leave the grounds alone. If you aren’t with me, you’ll be with Eric, and even then, it’ll only be with my permission, but I need to travel to Europe for at least a week next month.” He grinned. “You’ve behaved well.” The track he’d been tracing suddenly extended over her buttocks and thigh. “Very well, and you’ve followed my instructions much better than I would’ve given you credit for a few months ago.” His hands roamed. Claire’s eyes closed and she willingly responded to his slightest inclination. “As a matter of fact …” His tone became playful. “… I believe that right now you would do as I say.”
Her lids opened, veiling her eyes with her lashes. “I would,” she purred.
Tony wondered if Claire knew how totally erotic her accommodating tone was to him. Was it real, or was she performing for her job? He didn’t know. He did know that he had needs and desires, and if she was in this accommodating of a mood, the instructions were on the tip of his tongue. Grinning, he said, “I think we should continue to test that theory, but first, I believe you’ve earned the ability to do some shopping for yourself.”
For a moment she seemed lost
in thought.
“Claire?” Her gaze focused. “Let’s see how well you can do with instructions tonight.”
Everyone can be manipulated. It’s most successful by people who’re closest to you.
—Aleatha Romig, Convicted
Tony looked up from his tablet and peered toward Claire as the car in which they rode wound around the twists and turns of the country roads near his estate. She was staring out the window, quieter than normal. Tony figured that the reason was his preoccupation with his work. Since they’d touched down from New York, he’d been busy with the onslaught of emails, and she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working. Sneaking another glance, he tried unsuccessfully to read her thoughts or decipher her mood. It was something that he didn’t particularly like; he owned her—all of her, including her thoughts. Most of the time, his acquisition was an open book. The fact that she could, at times, successfully hide or mask her true emotions irritated him. Usually, he could look at her and intuitively know exactly what she wanted or needed. Her eyes were the key. Sometimes they held a fire of confrontation even when her lips spoke obediently. It was quite the sight to witness, her battling with herself. Tony found her internal struggle very entertaining; however, what he currently witnessed was a newer phenomenon. Claire’s expression, including her eyes, was of complete contentment—no, perhaps, indifference. There was something about her body language that didn’t match.
Maybe he’d pushed too far during his celebration yesterday? He remembered going back to his New York apartment and finding her asleep on his bed. He hadn’t intended for the afternoon and evening to go as it had, but one thing led to another. Besides, it didn’t matter. He had the right to push as hard and as far as he wanted. Claire had a job to do, a role to play, and her satisfaction with her job was inconsequential. She would do what was required of her, or she’d face the consequences. Perhaps that was what she was thinking about as they approached his estate—how her life was truly out of her hands, in every way. Oh, if only he could confirm that. It would please him to no end, to know that she had finally succumbed completely to his obvious authority.