Consequences(34)

The open drapes filled the room with natural light. As his mouth tantalized her skin, she sat forward allowing him to gently remove her robe. It was then—Anthony gasped.

Claire froze—unsure why he made such a sound, and turned to see his face. His features were softer and more concerned than she’d ever witnessed. He didn’t say a word but tenderly caressed her neck and back. His actions were sensual, careful, and tender.

Slowly, he joined her on the bed, and only after ensuring that she was moist and ready did he enter her body. He’d been there before, but this was different. The only sounds from his mouth were incomprehensible noises that made their meaning clear. Soon, she responded in the same language. This time he wasn’t the only one to experience fulfillment—Claire did too.

After they were both satisfied, she rested on the satin sheets while he walked to the table, completely nude. From her vantage point she saw his muscles defined from exertion, and firm skin glistening with perspiration, as he picked up the gift and turned back toward her. Lifting her head from the pillow, her long damp brown hair cascaded in waves around her face. Anthony handed Claire the gift and watched as she removed the wrapping from the black velvet box. Inside was a Swarovski wristwatch. She smiled.

“It’s meant as a way to avoid glitches in the future,” he said softly.

“Thank you. I would really like to avoid those.”

She handed him the box and lowered her head to the pillow. Completely drained of energy, she closed her eyes and felt the soft warmth as Anthony lifted the covers over her body. She could still smell his musky scent as she drifted into unconsciousness. She didn’t wake until Monday morning.


In that time between sleep and wakefulness, Claire wondered if yesterday evening had been real. How could it be real if Saturday was too? Could Anthony Rawlings really be two such different men? As the fog began to clear she realized that whoever he was—he was gone for the next two and a half days. This comprehension gave her a renewed vitality. She didn’t know what she would do with her sixty-five hours of freedom, but she knew she would find something.

Her breakfast sat on the table when she exited the bathroom and the drapes were opened. The sky radiated a very light shade of blue, and there seemed to be clouds forming in the distance. It was spring in Iowa. The weather could be unpredictable. After breakfast she decided to try the indoor pool. She swam laps for forty minutes and rested in the hot tub. It felt wonderful to push her muscles beyond their limit. Other than her duties, she’d done nothing to exercise in almost three weeks. Surprisingly, the lack of physical activity didn’t seem to cause weight gain. She didn’t have a scale, but she could tell in the mirror and with her new clothes. If anything she’d lost weight. She lay back and closed her eyes amid the hum and bubbling of the tub and realized it was her diet. In three weeks she hadn’t had any alcohol—not even a glass of wine. She also hadn’t consumed one ounce of dessert—not a cookie, brownie, or even a piece of dark chocolate. Now that the realization hit her, Claire craved chocolate.

The sixty-five hours passed without event. She thoroughly investigated the house. It was luxurious, vast, and held many amenities; however, the more she explored, the more she realized, it was still a prison. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t go outside. It may be bigger and grander than her suite, but it still had walls.

Claire made an effort to get to know the names of the staff. The young lady who brought food was Cindy. The young man who speaks little English was Carlos. Anthony’s driver was Eric. There were others that cleaned, cooked, did laundry, and tended the grounds, but Claire rarely saw them, so she didn’t have the chance to learn their names, yet whenever she passed one or encountered them in a hallway, they would nod and acknowledge her, “Ms. Claire.”