Beyond the Consequences

  As his body thrust against hers, Claire’s petite hands found his chest and pushed. She had to know he’d stop if that were what she wanted. She didn’t want it, but nevertheless, she needed that grasp at control when he seemed suddenly without any. The temperature of their suite rose and the air stilled as he pulled away and dark eyes bore deep into the emerald green.

  “Tony? What’s wrong?”

  “I couldn’t reach you.” He gripped her chin. “Do you have any idea what I’d do if I lost you?”

  “You’re not losing me. Every time I’m out late doesn’t mean anything has happened.”

  He towered above her as each statement came forth louder than the one before. “Taylor or Roach weren’t with you. You didn’t have Eric. You were all by yourself. Jan didn’t know when you’d be back. I’ve been here since 4:00. I even called the spa. They said you’d left hours ago. I was fuck’n losing it.”

  Claire reached for her husband’s cheek. “I’m here. You’re here. So…” She gazed at him from behind veiled lashes, “…now that you’ve got me, what do you want to do with me?”

  The blackness of his penetrating gaze swirled with suede, a soft light infiltrating the darkness as the heat of his angst morphed into the fire of unrestrained desire.

  With another tug of her hair, her head once again went back and Claire closed her eyes as warm whiskey-scented breath bathed her cheeks and neck. Though her swollen lips ached for his, his were busy tormenting her soft skin with kisses that began behind her ear and descended to her neck and below. As he teased and taunted the sensitive skin of her collarbone, her fingers wove through his think mane. Moans and pleas filled the room as with each touch Claire was reminded of the man who claimed her body and soul—the man who at one time starred in her nightmares and now starred in her life. He wasn’t her star, but her sun. Just like the real celestial object that controlled the solar system, Tony was the gravitational pull whom she willingly allowed to dictate her orbit and warm her heart.

  If they’d had plans for that night, they didn’t attend to them. There was no dinner out on the town, no Broadway show nor walk through Time Square, but neither one seemed to mind. Instead, their night was filled with one another. Each one gave and took. Together they reunited as a couple and soul mates. They made love and talked about their uncertainties and discoveries. Claire shared her revelation about being alone, and Tony recognized his distress of being without her. Even after so many years, they shared and laughed, talked and cried, and when they were done, they made love some more, until sleep overtook them.

  It wasn’t until the next morning that either one of them remembered the doctor’s recommendation for alternative protection. They reasoned that it was only one night, and the doctors had warned that with Tony’s age it might not happen the natural way. So what were the chances?

  The water lapped over Claire’s body as she floated below the Iowa stars, lost in the memories of that night. It wasn’t only their journey that they continued that night; they’d also created the tiny being inside of her. With Claire’s eyes closed to the twinkling stars, she imagined her husband’s touch and the aroma of chlorine gave way to the intoxicating scent of cologne.

  Her body electrified, as it only did in his presence. It was a connection they’d had for as long as she could remember. Words or touch weren’t necessary. When they were near one another, the molecules in the air stirred and energy transferred. The scientific result of thermodynamics was heat. Their result was no different. Despite the tepid water, Claire’s skin suddenly warmed. She opened her eyes to the sight of her husband: his jacket slung over his shoulder and linen shirt glowing with the colors of the pool’s lights. It wasn’t his Armani slacks or his shiny black loafers that caught her attention. It was the grin that tightened her stomach as his chocolate eyes sparkled.

  “Good evening, Claire.” His baritone voice resonated through the country night.

  TIME STOOD STILL as Tony watched his wife, first from the shadows and then from the deck of the pool. Although he had plenty to say, he hadn’t spoken a word; instead, he stood and observed as Claire floated near the surface of the colorful water. It was the whole picture that had him mesmerized: the warm, starry night, the way her hair floated around her beautiful face, her peaceful expression, and even the smile that graced her lips—on and off—as if she were remembering something that made her happy. She looked too beautiful to disturb. As the minutes passed and the water ebbed and flowed over her midsection, Tony began to think about their new baby.

  He remembered the night, a few weeks ago, when he came home from work and discovered Claire in their suite:

  It wasn’t like her to be away from Nichol, yet she was, all alone and lost in her thoughts as she stood at the railing of their balcony. His gaze went the direction of her stare, out toward their backyard, where he saw Nichol with Shannon on the play set. It wasn’t until he fully stepped beyond the glass doors that Claire turned. When she did, he saw her tearstained cheeks and his heart crumbled.

  “Claire.” His voice quivered with uncertainty as he reached for her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head and melted against his chest. Tony’s mind swirled with possibilities, each one worse than the one before.

  After a moment, he lifted her chin and stared deeply into her moist eyes. Even with the tears, he knew he could get lost in her emerald gaze. “Whatever it is,” he offered reassuringly, “we’ll fix it.”

  Her body tensed. “Tony, you can’t fix it. I don’t want you to fix it.”

  “What do you want? What happened?”

  She took a deep breath. “Remember we promised the doctors that we wouldn’t try to get pregnant until this month?”

  He nodded, wondering if maybe she’d changed her mind. If she had, he understood. He’d meant what he’d said about adopting. Hell, maybe they could hire a surrogate? He’d never thought of that before, but now that he had, he liked the idea. It was better than risking Claire’s health. Tony thought he’d read somewhere where they can use Claire’s egg and his sperm. Yes, that would be best. As the smile came to his lips, with his new idea, Claire’s ramblings began to register.

  “…I know we didn’t mean to. I’m not positive it was that night in New York. I mean condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective. I just don’t know what they’ll say.”

  The words weren’t making sense. “What who will say? It’s all right if you don’t want to try this month. Maybe it would be better if we waited—”

  She took a step back as her eyes grew wide. “Tony, you’re not listening to me.”

  “I’m trying. You said something about New York and condoms.” A devilish grin crept onto his lips. “I don’t believe we remembered to use…”

  It wasn’t the same as when she told him she was pregnant with Nichol. That was sheer disbelief. For seconds—that seemed like days—he couldn’t wrap his mind around her words. This was different: the signals were mixed. He remembered that night in New York, their preoccupation with one another. Using protection was the furthest thing from their mind. They’d discussed another child at length. If she were pregnant, wouldn’t she be happy? Why was she crying?

  Tony didn’t respond appropriately the last time she informed him of her pregnancy. He had no intentions of screwing up the moment again. Summoning his biggest smile and wrapping Claire in his arms, he lifted her off the ground. “Really?” he asked, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. “Already? You’re pregnant?”

  The sadness or fear he’d seen when their eyes first met dissipated as she gazed upward and her cheeks lifted. “You’re not upset?”

  Tony put her down, reached for her hand, and led her to the balcony sofa. Though concerns and questions flooded his mind, once he and Claire were seated, Tony reached out and covered her midsection. “You’re sure? We have a baby in there?”

  Claire nodded and smiled as a tear trickled down her cheek. “We do. I mean the home pregnancy test said we do. I
haven’t called the doctor. I wanted to tell you first.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I wanted to tell you in person. I think I was afraid that you’d be upset.”

  “Upset?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She looked down at his hand still resting on her tummy and covered it with her own. “We were supposed to wait.”

  He reached gently for her chin. “Well, I don’t think I could be upset. I mean, if this happened that night in New York, we’re equally responsible.” He sat taller. “And the way I see it, Mrs. Rawlings, we have a new little Rawlings who wants to enter this world. There’s nothing in that sentence that could make me upset.”

  As their lips touched and her petite body moved closer, Tony tasted her salty tears and the rest of the world disappeared. The gleeful noises from the play yard no longer registered, nor did the gentle summer breeze or streaming evening sunshine. Tony’s world was only her: his wife, happy and content in his arms when moments earlier she’d been upset. When their connection finally broke, he heard the words that washed over him, filling him like nothing else.

  “I love you so much. I imagined your reaction many ways, but this was better than anything I ever envisioned.”

  “Tomorrow we’re going to your doctor. Let me know the time, and I’ll be there.”

  Claire giggled as she wiped her cheek. “It doesn’t work that way. I have to call for an appointment. They probably won’t be able to get me in for a few days.”

  He bowed his head until their foreheads touched. “Tomorrow. I want you seen tomorrow.” Tony was sure his tone left no room for debate. He’d be happy to use it on some unsuspecting receptionist if necessary. “Do you want me to call?”

  Her eyes closed and head moved from side to side. “Oh, no. I don’t want that. I’ll call.”

  “And tomorrow…”

  “Yes, Tony, tomorrow. I’ll call you after I talk to the office and you can meet me there.”

  “I’ll meet both of you there.”

  Her neck straightened. “I’m capable of driving.”

  As she spoke, his grin returned. “I wasn’t speaking of Roach or Taylor, though you know I prefer that.” His hand returned to her midsection. “I meant you and our little one.”

  The colorful water continued to ebb and flow as Tony imagined the baby growing within his wife. In time it would change her as Nichol had done. He remembered how radiant she looked—well, up until the end of Nichol’s pregnancy. Then Claire looked miserable. Since that evening when he learned of their impending arrival, Tony’s mood had fluctuated from joy to despair, everything in between, and back to joy. Hell, with as mixed up as he felt, some days he felt as though it could be he who was pregnant. There was no question: if he could, he would. Tony refused—absolutely refused—to allow anything to harm Claire, including their child. Then he’d remember that the doctors had given their clearance. They’d proclaimed Claire healthy enough to have a child. The OB/GYN had even addressed the issue of Nichol’s birth. She didn’t expect there to be anything like that this time, but if it occurred, they had a state-of-the art hospital and a C-section would be done right away.

  When he wasn’t thinking about the possible consequences of their decision, Tony concentrated on the new life, the new Rawlings. For a man who’d never expected to have children or be a father, his heart felt like it could literally burst. Never had he imagined the joy of children—the joy of a family. What he and Claire shared was nothing like what he’d known as a child, and at times it was overwhelming. Truthfully, the overabundance of love Tony felt for the tiny being that at this point was only evidenced by a blue plus sign on a white stick and the doctor’s confirmation even surprised him.

  Tony now understood that he’d wasted too much of his life trying to make the Rawls in him and his past proud, trying to achieve acceptance from a ghost. Then again, was that true? If he hadn’t had the obsession, if he hadn’t spent his first forty-plus years righting unexplained wrongs, then he wouldn’t have waited for the woman before him, the one floating with a suddenly mischievous smile. His cheeks rose as he wondered what she was thinking. No, he’d never again regret the years he lost. If he did, he’d regret the life he now had, and that wasn’t possible.

  Removing his jacket, Tony flung it over his shoulder and moved closer to the pool’s edge. With each step, he wondered how to get Claire’s attention. With her ears submersed, she probably wouldn’t hear him. Should he splash her? The idea of removing his clothes and diving into the water was appealing, but times had changed. For one thing, there was Nichol. As much as Tony doubted that she’d awaken and make her way down to the pool, he didn’t want to take the chance. The other difference was the woman who dominated his thoughts and currently his vision. His wife deserved better than to be seen on estate security in a compromising position.

  Just as Tony was about to lean down and splash, the most gorgeous emerald eyes in the entire world opened and an even bigger smile blossomed on her face.

  “Good evening, Claire.”

  He walked toward the pool’s steps as Claire swam his direction. Soon she was standing and their lips were reunited. Without a word they said so many things. It had been two days since he’d been home. He hated traveling without Claire and Nichol, but he understood. He understood that Claire didn’t want Nichol’s childhood spent in apartments and airplanes when she had the beauty of an Iowa summer and all the amenities of a five-star resort outside her backdoor. That didn’t mean they never traveled, but sometimes separation was necessary. Thankfully with Tim’s increased role, it wasn’t too often.

  “Good evening, Tony. I’ve missed you,” she said with a grin as pool water dripped from her body and puddled near his shoes. “I think you’re overdressed for this pool party.”

  He’d missed her too, every minute. “Party?” he asked, intrigued. Whatever she’d been thinking about had left her in a spirited mood. “I don’t believe I was invited.”

  Pulling his shirt toward the water, she teased, “You’re the only expected guest. Didn’t you get the invitation?”

  Grinning, he stopped her progress toward the water and lifted her chin. “While I like the way that sounds, first tell me how you’re feeling.”

  Her bottom lip playfully protruded as she released his shirt and walked past him to get her robe. Cameras be damned, Tony wanted to touch what was in front of him in the white tankini. He couldn’t resist as his hand playfully swatted her wet behind. Though the contact was minimal, the moisture caused the sound to echo as Claire jumped and smiled in his direction.

  “Hey, you can’t do that!”

  “Oh, I can’t?” His devilish grin glowed in the darkness. “I thought I made the rules. I asked you a question.”

  With her lips pressed defiantly together, she donned her robe. As he watched her bathing suit-clad body disappear, Tony wondered how long it would be before her breasts began to grow. As he recalled, that was one of the first things he noticed when he learned she was pregnant with Nichol. Perhaps they had. Maybe he should undo the robe and take a closer look. As those thoughts came and multiplied, Claire reached for his hand and led him toward the chairs.

  “If you’re not going to swim, sit with me.” She patted the cushion beside her.

  “You’re going to get me wet.”

  “That’s my plan.”

  Shaking his head, he sat. He didn’t give a damn about his clothes as he wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her close. “Now, answer me. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling great!” Her eyes opened wide and sparkled. “I really am. I keep expecting the morning sickness to hit me, and it still may, but so far, I feel good.”

  “Is that normal?” he asked, obviously concerned. “Aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

  Claire shrugged. “I don’t think there’s any right or wrong answer. I was with Nichol, for a while. Some people are sick a lot more than I was. Poor Julia, she’s still sick—she’s into her second trime
ster, and she still can’t keep food down.”

  “Yes, Brent told me. He said she’s even been to the hospital a couple of times.”

  Claire scrunched her nose. “I feel awful for her, but I don’t want that. The only thing I notice is that I’m more emotional. I was reading a new book to Nichol about a bunny that lost his mitten. Even though I’d just bought it, she told me how much she liked the story. She said it was a story Aunt Em used to read. I started crying. I don’t think she knew, but after I left her room I cried for about five minutes for no reason. It’s the hormones.”

  Tony gently rubbed a circle on Claire’s back as she leaned into him. The scent of chlorine emanated from her hair, as the cool wetness penetrated his shirt. “Hush, don’t cry now. It’s probably good that she can talk about it as if it’s not a big deal.”

  Claire nodded.

  He wasn’t always the most perceptive, but it didn’t take long for him to realize she was crying. Hugging her tightly, he lifted her chin again and wiped her tears with his thumb. “You didn’t think the pool water was enough for my shirt—you thought it needed tears too?”

  Claire grinned and shook her head.

  “I love you, Mrs. Rawlings. I love that you’re so emotionally bound to a bunny with no mittens that it makes you cry.”

  “Mr. Bunny had mittens,” she corrected. “He’d just lost one.”

  Tony watched as the gleam returned to her gaze. “How about we take this pool party upstairs to our suite?”

  “We don’t have a pool upstairs.”

  Tony stood and reached for her hand. “No, my dear, but we have a shower and a large tub. The advantage of those is the no-bathing-suit rule.”

  “Oh?”

  “Haven’t I ever mentioned that?”

  Her lips quirked into a knowing grin. “No, Mr. Rawlings. I’ve heard many of your rules, and I don’t recall that one.”

  “Have you ever worn a bathing suit in the tub?”