The difference between their bubble on the island and the one they now enjoyed was the addition of the sleeping child beside Claire. Despite the child psychologist’s recommendations, after the birth of her brother, Nichol found her way into Tony and Claire’s bed. It didn’t happen every night, but it did happen. Surprisingly, the peace and security their daughter found snuggled between her parents allowed her to sleep peacefully even through Nate’s waking and feeding.
It was Madeline who attested that Nichol’s behavior was acceptable. After all, Nate’s room was attached to Tony and Claire’s; how could Nichol not feel left out across the hall in her separate bedroom? Madeline also reassured Claire that in time their daughter would once again be content in her own space. For now, Nichol needed to know that she was a part of what her brother shared. When Claire confessed Nichol’s new sleeping arrangement to others, she was shocked and surprised to learn that they too had similar stories. Michael spent much of Beth’s first few months in John and Emily’s bed, as had Caleb, many years ago, when his sister Maryn was born. Even Meredith had similar tales with her two children. Though Claire was confident in their decision to allow Nichol this luxury, hearing that others had done the same helped reassure her.
Snuggling close to Nichol, Claire sighed. She could no longer differentiate Tony’s words, but the rhythm comforted her as she drifted between wake and sleep. It wasn’t until she heard her son’s whimpers that Claire realized morning had arrived. Looking to the other side of the bed she saw only Nichol. By the numbers on the clock and the sound of water from the attached bathroom, Claire knew Tony was awake and getting ready for work.
A cloud of steam welcomed Claire as she opened the bathroom door. Once inside it was the magnificent sight of her husband stepping from the shower that fully woke her senses. As he reached for his towel, their eyes met. Droplets of water sparkled on his warmed skin as they descended from his broad shoulders down to his toned legs. Claire made no secret of her scan as she took in the nude man before her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Rawlings,” he said with a grin as he wrapped the towel around his waist.
Closing the gap between them, her emerald eyes sparkled. “Good morning. Were you up a long time with Nate last night?”
“No, not too long. Is he awake?”
Rubbing her petite hands over his shoulders, Claire replied, “Yes, I just came in here first so I could feed him again.”
Reaching for her hand, Tony kissed her fingers. “Again? I think our son has an insatiable appetite.”
Claire’s breasts ached as she thought not about Nate’s appetite, but the one of the man before her. Closing her eyes, she imagined Tony’s lips not on her fingers, but on other parts of her body. Though the doctors had told them to wait six weeks before resuming relations, Claire knew that she didn’t want to wait. Nate’s birth had been much kinder to her body than Nichol’s. Reaching with her other hand to Tony’s shoulder for support, she felt his muscles tense as she moved her fingers down his arm. Inch by inch, Claire’s own appetite began to grow.
Remembering Tony’s comment about Nate, Claire finally replied, “Hmmm. Yes, he does.”
As Tony continued his gentle kisses of her fingers, she felt the release. Looking down, she saw the evidence on the bodice of her nightgown. “Tony…”
His dark eyes followed hers, and his devilish grin made her smile. “I’m glad to know that Nate isn’t the only man who can do that to you.”
Playfully she pulled her hand away and swatted his bare shoulder. “You’re awful.”
“I am?” he asked with his most innocent tone. “I thought I was pretty good. I mean if I were awful why would you…”
Claire shook her head as she disappeared behind the next door. Minutes later, she was in the nursery with Nate: his little lips latched and lower jaw began moving with vigor. The relief was instantaneous as he suckled and her body relaxed. Once she’d moved Nate to the other side, Tony stepped into the nursery. Though he was now fully dressed, Claire still enjoyed the view. His customary Armani suit and shiny black loafers reminded her that he wasn’t only a daddy who would rock his child in the middle of the night, but also a businessman who spent his days making decisions that affected multitudes of people. Though the silk spoke of importance, the way the jacket stretched over his broad shoulders and tapered to his waist, reminded her of the man she’d watched step from the shower. Though her mind was there, Tony had obviously moved on.
Leaning down, he kissed her cheek and said, “Nichol’s still sound asleep. Do you want me to wake her?”
“No, let her sleep. I’m sure Shannon’s awake, but Nichol’s been fighting naps. The longer she sleeps in the morning, the better it is for all of us this evening.”
Tony laughed. “Then, by all means, let her sleep.” His brows peaked. “I’m on my way to the kitchen for breakfast. Would you like me to have something sent up?”
Claire looked down at Nate, his suckling now slowed. “No. If you’re going to eat here, I can come down in a few minutes.”
Tony glanced down at her nightgown and lifted his brows.
“Yes, I’ll be sure to change or wear a robe. I know I’m comparatively underdressed.”
He teased the strap of her nightgown. “I like the way you’re dressed.”
Claire shook her head. Maybe he hadn’t moved on.
“I’ll be sure they have your tea ready.”
“Ugh,” Claire replied. “I’d give anything for a nice cup of caffeinated coffee.”
Tony smirked. “Sacrifices, my dear.”
“Sure, that’s easy for you to say.”
He reached for Nate’s head. As he stroked the fine hair, the tips of his fingers purposely caressed Claire’s breast. “I believe I’m sacrificing too.”
“Yes, but your sacrifice is a sacrifice for me, too.”
He lowered his lips near her neck, purposely bathing her sensitive skin in his warm breath. “Would I be awful,” he emphasized the word, “if I were glad to hear that?”
Inhaling deeply, Claire sighed. “No. No more awful than you already are.”
As she did the mental math, Tony turned to leave. Just before entering back into their suite, he muttered, “Three and a half more weeks.”
A smile came to her lips and her cheeks rose. That was exactly what she’d been thinking.
THE SOUND OF Madeline’s deep laugh echoed through the foyer as Claire approached the dining room. Turning the corner her heart leapt. Madeline and Francis truly were like family as they sat conversing with Tony over their breakfast. On the island, they used to eat their midday meals together, all four of them. In Iowa, Tony was rarely home for lunch and dinner was an off and on occasion for them all to be together. Though Claire always asked the older couple, Madeline insisted that the evening meal was an important time for the family.
Family was what Claire saw as she stood in the doorway and watched the three casually discussing daily events. Madeline and Francis were as close to parents as Tony or Claire would ever have. Their knowledge and wisdom affected both Tony and Claire in different ways. Claire welcomed Madeline’s advice to the point of seeking it on many occasions. Tony was less forward, yet Francis had found a way to interject his beliefs and wisdom into Tony’s life. Perhaps they were continuing their parent lessons without either Tony or Claire realizing what was happening.
“Oh, Madame Claire, let me hold Nate while you eat,” Madeline said when she turned to see Claire.
As Claire placed Nate in Madeline’s arms, she smiled at the way he nuzzled against the large woman. “I think we’re spoiling him. He could be in his chair.”
Madeline’s dark eyes beamed. “Oh, no. Loving a bébé is not spoiling them. It is making him feel safe so that one day he can be in his chair and know he is still loved.”
Sitting next to Tony, Claire smiled. “Well, he’s definitely loved.”
“And Nichol?” Francis asked.
“She’s loved too,” Claire answered quickly.
“No, Madame el, Nichol? Where is she?”
“Oh,” Claire giggled. “She’s still asleep.” Before they asked, she volunteered, “She slept in our bed again last night.”
“Was she upset?” Madeline asked.
“No,” Tony answered. “When we started to tuck her in, she ran to our room and said she wanted to be close to her brother.” With a scoff, he added, “That sounds all well and good, but so far she’s yet to be any help with the middle of the night feeding.”
“Oui,” Madeline laughed. “She’s a smart one, your daughter. She is very good at reasoning.”
Claire nodded as she sipped her warm, decaffeinated tea. “Too good, but the night before, she slept fine in her bed. I hope…”
Madeline’s knowing eyes peered toward Claire. “Do not worry. She will sleep in her own bed before she goes to university.”
Tony’s cough and laugh filled the dining room. “Well, let’s hope it’s way before that.”
The four continued to chat until they heard the sound of little feet coming through the foyer. They all turned as Nichol made her way into the dining room and walked toward Claire.
“I woked up,” she said sleepily.
“Yes, you did. Did you sleep okay in our big bed?”
Nichol nodded, and then with a grin she said, “Eccept Daddy snores.”
The room erupted with everyone’s laughter, followed by a dark-eyed stare coming from the head of the table. Playfully, Tony replied, “Well then, I guess you’ll need to sleep in your own room from now on.”
Nichol giggled. “I like your snoring, Daddy. It sounds funny.” She looked up at Claire. “Doesn’t it, Momma?”
Stifling her laughter, Claire’s eyes met Tony’s. Truthfully, she’d never noticed. Well, maybe when they first began to sleep together, but Claire always considered it rhythmic breathing more than snoring. Then after they had been separated, once they were reunited, she welcomed the sound of her husband sleeping beside her. “I think it sounds nice. That’s how I know your daddy’s there.”
“Good answer,” Tony declared. “You may have been sharing a bed with Nichol, in her room.”
Claire’s emerald eyes sparkled. “I don’t think I need to be too concerned.”
Tony stood, leaned down and gave Claire a kiss and Nichol a peck on her hair. “That’s it. I’m leaving before you start discussing any more of my bad habits.”
“We can save that for another time,” Claire offered. Peering toward Madeline and Francis, she joked, “I’m sure you don’t want to spend all morning sitting here. The list is rather lengthy.”
Tony shook his head with a grin as he whispered near Claire’s ear, “There’s that smart mouth I love.”
When he turned to leave, Claire asked, “Nichol, are you ready for some breakfast?”
As she spoke, the cook came from the kitchen with a tray, and Nichol climbed onto the chair beside her mother. “I do fhink it sounds funny,” she whispered as she watched her breakfast being served.
THE TIRES OF the rental car bounced as Phil turned onto the private lane. Was the loose gravel the cause of his trembling hands or was it something else? As the silence within the car loomed, Phil’s grip upon the helpless steering wheel tightened, blanching his knuckles and straining his wrists. Outside the windows large trees lined the lane while manicured lawns filled the landscape. The large, strategically placed trees created a canopy over the lane, allowing minimal illumination from the evening sun. The resulting strobe of the sunshine reminded Phil of the lane on the Rawlings estate, except these trees weren’t oak. These trees were cypress and draped with beautiful Spanish moss that veiled the full beauty of the resort. As the trees parted, the main lodge came into view. Above the plantation-style mansion, the sky filled with a kaleidoscope of color. Reds swirled with pinks as shadows took on a purple hue.
“This is beautiful.” Taylor’s statement shattered the silence, relieving a fraction of the tension from Phil’s grip.
He turned to his right. “It is. Have you ever stayed here before?”
“No,” Taylor answered. “Not here. I mean, I grew up about fifty miles away, near Sebring. I’d heard of this place, but…” She shrugged. “…I guess I thought I was done with this area of the country.”
Phil slowed the car as he eased in front of the main building. Putting the gear in park, he reached for Taylor’s hand. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can drive back to the airport right now. The Rawlings Industries plane is there and the pilot is on standby. You say the word and we can fly back to Iowa.”
Inhaling deeply, Taylor shook her head and turned her gaze toward the side window. “No, Phil, I have to do this. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder if…”
Phil waited as Taylor collected her thoughts and silence once again filled the car. There was so much he wanted to know: so many questions. Only knowing bits and pieces about someone’s past was the penance for not meeting one another until later in life. Those lives and stories, the ones that created a foundation of the present and future, remain hidden, until access was granted. He understood the need to keep the past from crashing with the present. Hell, his walls were tall enough to keep a fuck’n ninja from scaling them, and for that reason, he didn’t pry. That’s not to say he hadn’t done his research before Taylor was hired; however, that was business. This no longer was.
It wasn’t until they landed in Fort Lauderdale and began the drive away from the crystal blue ocean that Phil got a rare glimpse of the private woman beside him. Through the past two years he’d seen many sides of her—sides he enjoyed—but this was different. There was a cyclone of emotion he’d never witnessed. He didn’t know the particulars of what was happening behind her beautiful blue eyes, yet he knew enough to know it was causing her pain. That alone was more than enough reason to make him want to turn the car around and take them both back to the cooler world of Iowa.
As the warm Florida air stirred, the clouds above the columned mansion continued to swirl, brightening and darkening the landscape as shadows collided with light. Everything around him was happening in slow motion. Only Phil’s thoughts were occurring at a normal speed. He felt his blood pump and echo in his ears. Each beat of his heart intensified the silence. He was a man of action, a person who fixed things. He made them right. Sitting and watching the woman in his life, the woman who was usually a rock, crumble in the seat beside him was pure, unadulterated torture.
If he could, he’d take away her memories as well as her thoughts. If he could, he’d eliminate the current cause. He’d eliminated threats before. But alas, this was beyond his realm of expertise. Only current dangers could be eradicated. Purging the past was not something he could do. It was up to her. For that reason and possibility at liberation, Phil supported her.
After what seemed like hours, but according to the dashboard had only been a few minutes, Phil rubbed Taylor’s shoulder. The quaking beneath his fingertips told him what she’d been trying to hide. Throughout the two years they’d known one another, never before had he seen her cry. She wasn’t like Claire: that woman could cry at the drop of a hat. No, Taylor’s emotions were usually concealed, the perfect attribute of a bodyguard or an agent: slow to anger and quick to react, conscious of everything at all times. Yet, the emotions Phil now witnessed were not a quick reaction. No, they’d been building over time: long before he knew Taylor Walters.
“I’ll go get us checked in, and we can get some rest before your appointment with the attorney tomorrow.”
Taylor nodded as she continued to look away.
A few minutes later, Phil apprehensively returned to the car. He could handle a confrontation with an adversary, chest to chest and guns blazing; however, confronting emotions that bubbled like a tar pit—thick, dense, and capable of suffocation—was out of Phil’s element. With each step he contemplated his next move. Opening the door, he sighed with relief. Staring up toward him was one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. Somewhere in
the time since he’d left and returned, Taylor had taken hold of her grief and returned it to the place that not only concealed it from the world, but from her heart. Though her eyes glistened with the remnants of tears, her gaze was clear and precise. Seeing the obvious change, Phil couldn’t stop the relief suddenly surging through him as the smile returned to his lips.
“We have a private cottage near the back of the estate. I thought you might like the privacy.”
Her brows rose in question.
Phil’s smile quirked to the side. “That’s not what I meant.”
Taylor’s hand covered his as he started the car. “I know. Thank you.”
He didn’t respond as he turned toward her. There was nothing he could think to say. Taylor shouldn’t thank him. It was her. He should be the one to thank her for applying for the job with the Rawlings family, for bringing a part of him back to life. Hell, not back to life, but to life. She’d shown him that he could do his job, protect those he cared about and still have more.
“Taylor, don’t thank me. I’m totally inept when it comes to what to do here.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re giving me exactly what I need. Sometimes more can be said with silent understanding than all the words in the world. If it weren’t for you, I’d be facing this alone.” She leaned near and kissed his cheek. “When it all happened, I never imagined ever again having someone I trusted enough to be there for me.”