Consequences(136)

Claire started to go upstairs to her suite when she remembered Patricia. Had she left? Tony said she had, when Brent arrived. Patricia took information home and would bring him a guest list to evaluate Monday at the office.

“Can we please eat in my suite?” Claire asked. “It’s been a great day and I’m tired.”

During dinner Tony told Claire he and Brent exchanged words during the afternoon. Brent was Tony’s head legal counsel as well as his best friend—Claire was surprised. “What happened?”

Tony explained, “Brent borrowed a page from your brother-in-law’s advice book.”

Claire sighed, “The prenuptial agreement again.”

“Yes, Brent also insisted we have one.”

“I don’t presume to know anything about your belongings, but if everyone thinks we should have one, let’s just do it.”

She didn’t realize the conversation had become intense, but before she could blink he grasped her shoulders and lifted her from her chair. With his proximity too close, his harsh words came in warm breaths against her cheeks, “I am sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do. I’ve made my decision. That’s what I told Brent and what I’m telling you. There will not be a prenuptial agreement and do you know why?”

Claire met his gaze. “Tony, please—you said you wouldn’t hurt me again.” He released her arms and she fell back to her chair.

“And you promised to not give me cause.”

She thought about his question, she hadn’t answered—not answering could be considered cause. “I don’t know why we shouldn’t have a prenuptial agreement—other than you don’t want one.”

“That is part of it”—he paced—“The other part is…”—he knelt by Claire, his face once again too close to hers, his eyes shining black, and stared right at her. She didn’t look away, as he continued, slow and malevolent—“I know I won’t leave you, and I know you won’t leave me. Will you?”

She was faced with one of those junctures—be frightened by his tone, proximity, and allow his sudden unpredicted change in disposition to ruin a day that she truly enjoyed—or attempt to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. She chose the second. She answered his question with a voice which sounded both calm and composed. “I agreed to be Mrs. Anthony Rawlings just three days ago. It has been a whirlwind since then, and my wedding is in three weeks. We’re both overwhelmed. Tony, I would never think of leaving you.”


His eyes still flashed, blackness intensified. “Do you have any idea of the consequences if you did decide to leave me?”

With continued eye contact and composure, she replied, “I would rather think about the consequences of staying with you and learning what makes you happy”—she smiled—“and learning what you want of me, and when you want it”—his eyes lightened and flickered brown—“Perhaps you could give me some hints?”

He was calming. She watched the tension and fury leave his face. Continuing with the composed but now playful tone, she added, “As a matter of fact, I think you promised me something this afternoon in the kitchen.”

It worked. He mellowed. She didn’t make the first move, wanting him to believe he was in control. When he didn’t speak and stood, she thought perhaps he was leaving her suite and this conversation was done. Instead, he scooped her out of the chair and carried her to the bed.

He wasn’t his old self and he wasn’t his new gentle self. He was somewhere in between, but closer to gentle than the night before. Claire felt satisfied, she’d done it—she mellowed him. Her response resulted in the consequence she hoped—she was determined—she’d figure him out. In the meantime, this was a little thunder—no storm.