Beyond the Consequences

by Aleatha Romig

  —Corrie Ten Boom

  “SO WHAT DO you think of her?” Emily whispered as she and Claire stood on the shore of the frozen lake watching the mayhem of activity.

  “I think she seems nice,” Claire replied, glancing at Taylor, the new addition to their security detail.

  Emily shrugged. “Nice doesn’t seem like the best description of a bodyguard. That is her job description, isn’t it? I mean, she looks awfully petite for a badass. Shouldn’t she be like that knight lady on that TV show? You know the one who’s about seven feet tall.”

  Claire laughed and shook her head. Taylor definitely wasn’t seven feet tall. She was probably only a little taller than Claire, about five-foot-five or –six and physically fit. Her long, dark hair was usually wrapped in a low bun, and her clothes were professional. She’d only been working with the Rawlings family for a week, but she seemed to fit in well. The most important thing to Claire was that she got along well with Nichol. “I don’t know what she should be. She had the best references. Tony and I like her, and Phil was impressed with her resume. I guess that makes her worth a try.”

  “Well, I don’t know how you deal with having all these other people around all the time.”

  It was Claire’s turn to shrug. “They aren’t always around and sometimes when they are, you don’t even realize it. That’s their job.” She thought about how Phil had been watching and protecting Nichol without Emily or John’s knowledge for years. That little secret brought a smile to Claire’s face.

  “I guess if you’re all right with it.” Emily leaned closer. “Did you even have a choice? Did you get any input in the matter? Or was it all decided for you?”

  Claire turned indignantly. “Yes, Em, I had input. It was Tony’s idea, and at first, I wasn’t on board. But then I kept thinking about Nichol. I’ll take a little less privacy to assure her safety any day of the week.”

  “But… like now… why are they here? We’re on your property…” Emily looked around at the frozen lake, snow-covered ground, and bare trees. “…in the middle of nowhere.”

  Claire and Tony had agreed with law enforcement to keep all the information about the threatening mailings private. No one outside of their security and staff knew anything about them. The FBI explained that the fewer people in the know, the better chance they had of finding the culprit or culprits. Though they hadn’t received any Rawls-Nichols mailings since Nichol’s birthday, there had been some letters addressed to Claire Rawlings. After analysis, these new mailings were found to have male DNA. The writing was inconsistent, but the message was the same on each of these mailings: ‘I will save you.’ Neither Claire nor Tony knew what that meant.

  “Part of it is for Nichol,” Claire explained. “The more she’s used to them being around, the more comfortable she’ll be if she ever needs their help or protection.”

  Emily shuffled her boot-clad feet. “Claire, I didn’t know that she needed that kind of protection.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. We did our best to keep her safe.”

  Claire reached for her sister’s arm. “Stop that! You did great. You kept her out of the public eye. Look at her. She’s perfect and she is safe. Things are just different now that Tony and I are with her. Tony’s businesses and position puts him more into the limelight. You know we don’t like that. We never have. And, well, with Meredith’s book, there are still people who think they know us. Eric, Phil, and Taylor are our first line of defense. The more we include them in our activities, the more natural it is for Nichol.”

  “I get it,” Emily admitted as the shrill expressions of glee came from the ice.

  “Look, Momma!” Nichol yelled, as she and Michael performed their ice-skating wonders accompanied by their nannies and their fathers.

  “I see, sweetie. You’re doing great!” Claire replied.

  “Claire, you should go back out there with them. I don’t mind. I just don’t think in my condition I should be on thin blades of metal.”

  “Of course you shouldn’t.” Claire looked down at her own skate-encased feet. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Emily leaned closer. “Sure. What?”

  “I was so excited about this, about skating, but now that we’ve done it a few times, I’m totally over it. I want to spend my time here swimming, not skating.”

  Emily snickered. “Well, I think it’s too late. I mean, look at our husbands! I can’t believe you got them both out there on skates.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. Nichol and Michael were pretty persuasive. The thing is… Tony’s doing better at this than I am. I mean, seriously, I don’t think there’s anything he can’t do. It makes me sick.”

  “That’s because you’re sitting here with me. Go on out there. Show them how it’s really done.”

  When Claire looked back to the ice, she saw Tony’s eyes looking directly at her. Turning back to Emily, she said, “If you’re sure you’re all right?”

  Giving her sister a playful push, Emily replied, “I’m fine. Go!”

  With each clumsy step on the snow with ice skates, Claire lost any pretense at grace. Honestly, walking in five-inch Jimmy Choo heels was easier than skates. However, once she reached the cleared ice, Claire easily glided toward her family.

  “There’s my beautiful wife,” Tony declared as he reached for her hand. “I thought perhaps this was some grand scheme: get me out here on skates and then slip away.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Claire quipped. “I feel bad for Emily, not being able to participate.”

  “Don’t,” John said. “She’s enjoying watching Michael—and seeing me make a fool out of myself.”

  Claire nodded.

  “Aunt Care, wook at us,” Michael shouted as he and Nichol held hands and tried to skate in a circle. Within seconds they were a giggling pile of snowsuit-covered arms and legs.

  “I think we need to work on that,” Shannon said as she helped the two children stand.

  “The winter Olympics is probably not in their future,” Tony whispered with a grin.

  By the time they all made it back to the house, it was almost dark. After only a short distance, both children convinced their fathers they couldn’t walk another step and needed to be carried. Claire was pretty sure that Nichol had even napped a little during the hike.

  “Would you like to come in for something to eat?” Claire asked John and Emily.

  “No, thanks. We need to get this little guy home,” John replied. Then glancing toward his wife, he added, “I think we should’ve made Michael walk. He’ll have more energy than either one of us.”

  After they’d all laughed and said their goodbyes, the Rawlingses made their way into the house. Shannon took Nichol to a warm bath as Taylor and Phil disappeared. In mere seconds, Tony and Claire were standing in the middle of the foyer all alone.

  “Hmm, I like this,” Tony cooed, as he kissed Claire’s lips.

  “This?”

  “This… quiet.”

  Claire nodded. “Yes, me too. Emily was asking me how I liked having so many people around all the time.”

  Tony’s back straightened. “It’s really none of her business.”

  Claire feigned a grin. She knew that for her sake and the sake of their families, her husband and sister were trying to get along. Most of the time, they succeeded; however, once in a while…

  Tony’s tone hardened. “We’re not getting rid—”

  “No, we’re not,” Claire interrupted. “I told her that often we don’t even realize they’re there. I mean, like now. It isn’t like they hover.” She touched his arm. “I’m truly all right with it. Eric and Phil are part of our family. I’m sure that one day Taylor will be like that, too.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you still comfortable with going to New York?” Tony asked.

  Nodding, Claire answered, “I am. This will be Nichol’s first time in the city. I think that while you’re working, we’ll go to the museums. She’ll like the Museum of Natura
l History, and she’s already excited about the play.”

  “As long as you have Phil and Taylor with you, go wherever you want.”

  “Right now I want to go take a warm bath.” With a sly grin, Claire asked, “Should I ask Phil or Taylor to join me?”

  Tony’s finger touched her lips. “Oh, Mrs. Rawlings, it’s been what, two or three hours since I’ve heard that beautiful smart mouth of yours?”

  “Well, you’re the one who keeps emphasizing their presence. I just thought—”

  His lips silenced hers as the temperature of the entry hall rose exponentially, and he swallowed her in his embrace. After a lingering kiss, Tony whispered, “Perhaps we could take this discussion upstairs? You, my dear, are excessively overdressed for a bath.”

  “You are so right. Let me go get Phil—”

  Taking her hand, Tony led her to the stairs. “We don’t need him.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I think I’ve got this.”

  “If you’re up for the job, I guess you’ll do,” Claire said jokingly.

  With a devilish grin, he replied, “Not yet, but I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  LATER THAT NIGHT, while in their suite, Claire settled into bed and reached for her Kindle. Not finding it, she realized she’d left her reader in their home office. Donning a robe, she slipped down the dimmed, quiet hallway. Unable to pass their daughter’s door, Claire reached for the door handle.

  With the opening of the door, the light from the hall spilled onto the carpet of Nichol’s lavender room. The golden rays illuminated allowing Claire to peer beyond the light and see her daughter sleeping soundly on the large canopy bed with her doll on the pillow beside her. Tiptoeing to her daughter’s side, Claire’s smile grew, just being near her filled Claire’s world with peace. It was obvious the ice skating had worn their daughter out. With her lips parted and eyes shut, she was lost in a dream world and oblivious to her mother’s presence. Since they were leaving early in the morning for New York, Claire was glad that Nichol was already asleep. After a gentle kiss to Nichol’s head, Claire made her way back toward the hallway, quietly closed Nichol’s door, and eased down the back staircase toward their office. As she neared, she heard Tony’s booming voice.

  “…I don’t care where they go, one of you needs to be with them at all times.”

  “Yes, Mr. Rawlings. They won’t be alone.”

  Though she couldn’t see, Claire recognized Taylor’s voice as the person who’d responded.

  “The last two mailings have had a connection to New York. If Claire weren’t so damned determined not to allow this person to interrupt our lives, I’d insist that they stay home,” Tony continued.

  “With two of us,” Phil began, “we’ll keep them safe. One of us will be right with them and the other will stay back, watching the crowds. I’ll keep Eric constantly updated. You’ll know where they are at all times.”

  Claire stepped into the office, clad in her nightgown and bathrobe. “Don’t mind me,” she interrupted. “I feel like the president, overhearing his Secret Service agents. I wish you wouldn’t all make such a big fuss out of this.” She looked at Tony. “And you. I’ll be honest. Your tone…” She pursed her lips. “…is a little intimidating. Give poor Taylor a break. You know they’ll do their best.”

  Claire smiled in Taylor and Phil’s direction.

  Tony’s eyes darkened. “Claire, my assistant bought the tickets for the play over a month ago. I didn’t think about it at the time, but that’s a red flag. We might as well have taken out a sign on Times Square and announced our arrival.”

  Finding her Kindle, Claire picked it up and walked toward Tony. Trying to lighten the conversation, she replied, “Wouldn’t Nichol think that was special? Her name in lights on Times Square!”

  “Claire,” Phil warned, his gaze mimicking Tony’s. “This is serious. Think about Patrick Chester—”

  “I don’t want to think about him,” she snapped. “I don’t want to think about the possibility that someone could be targeting Nichol or me. However, I will not let that someone hold my daughter captive inside of her own house. It’s not happening.” Her eyes met Tony’s. Though she saw the darkness in his, Claire felt the fire in her own. Lifting her brow, she added, “She will never feel trapped in her own home. It’s not debatable.”

  Her husband’s lips formed a tight line as he forcibly retained his response.

  “Mrs. Rawlings?” Taylor asked, breaking the couple’s unspoken standoff.

  They both turned toward Taylor’s voice. “Yes?” Claire replied.

  “May I suggest changing your tickets?”

  Claire shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. Nichol’s too excited about The Lion King.”

  “Not changing the show,” Taylor continued, “just changing the performance. Your plans include being in the city for three nights. Could you go one of the other nights?”

  Claire looked at her husband and tilted her head in question. “Can you change the tickets at this late of a date?”

  His cheeks rose. “Hell yes. That’s a great idea. Taylor, thank you.”

  “We’ll get it all arranged and have the tickets put in another name,” Phil interjected.

  “There,” Claire said. “It’s settled. Now let’s all get some sleep. Someone I know likes to wake up way too early for these business trips.”

  As Claire followed Phil and Taylor toward the door, Tony’s voice rang through the office. “No, Mrs. Rawlings, I don’t believe this conversation is finished.”

  Turning back, she took in Tony’s demeanor. His tone and the piercing darkness of his gaze used to signal internal alarms. Not tonight. Tonight what caught her attention was the devilish grin he tried unsuccessfully to conceal.

  When she turned back, Phil’s questioning eyes asked what his lips couldn’t. With a smile and a nod, Claire let Phil know that she was and would be fine. His shoulders relaxed as she said good night and closed the door. Looking again toward the dark eyes that filled her dreams, Claire walked back toward her husband.

  “What do you possibly want to discuss that can’t be discussed upstairs?”

  Tony reached for the tie of her soft robe and tugged it open, exposing her satin nightgown. “Do you really think that this is appropriate staff-interaction clothing?” His hands caressed her hips, taking in the slippery material.

  “I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone but you,” she replied. “I just came down for my Kindle.” As she spoke, he stood. With each passing second, Tony’s proximity gravitated closer until he hovered above her, and Claire’s back arched over the desk. With a smirk to her voice, Claire continued, “You’re the one having a big powwow in here. At this late hour, I thought you’d be alone.”

  “Now I’m alone.” His tone morphed from business to sultry as the darkness too changed: his earlier visible concern swirled with desire. “What did you plan to do with me… alone?”

  Warm bourbon-scented breath bathed her cheeks and mixed with the aroma of cologne as heat radiated from his chest. Parts of her body—ones which moments ago had been ready to sleep—were now suddenly awake and begging for attention.

  With a giggle, she replied, “Nothing. I just wanted my Kindle.”

  Lifting her to his desk, Tony eased himself forward, spreading her legs and pulling her waist toward him. “Nothing?” he asked, as he eased her robe from her shoulder.

  “Tony, we have a nice bed upstairs.”

  “You know,” he spoke in bursts, kissing her neck as his fingers traced her collarbone. “I hate it when you make references… references to the past… I hope you know… how sorry I am… that you have those memories.”

  “It happened. I won’t deny it.”

  “Hell no…” His volume increased and he stood straighter. Claire wondered how much bourbon he’d drunk. Tony continued his tone deeper. “It wouldn’t do any good to deny it now. The whole damn world knows it.”

  While the world’s knowledge was her fault, Claire refused to apolo
gize. My Life as It Didn’t Appear was a bestseller. Though she’d tried to stop its publication, she failed. Therefore, it just was. While Claire contemplated her response, Tony’s fingers entwined with her loose hair. Tugging, he tipped her lips upward. With his mouth a mere whisper from hers, he said, “I hate it, but at the same time, your reference brought back memories.” His head cocked to the side, and his brown eyes opened wide. “Those memories aren’t all bad… for me at least.”

  Claire smiled. “No, Tony, they aren’t all bad for me, either. If they were, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “So…” Sultriness filled his tone as he continued to caress. “…it’s been a while since we’ve had that kind of fun in the office.” Peaking a brow, he added, “I seem to remember a few things.”

  Unable to shake her head, with his grip on her hair, Claire pursed her lips. “You, Mr. Rawlings, are incorrigible. Didn’t you just help me with that bath before dinner?”

  Again, his lips found her neck, sending goose bumps up and down her arms and legs. “That was me. However, as I recall, I wasn’t your first choice.”

  When his grip upon her hair loosened she reached for his, running her fingers through his salt and pepper mane. “You, sir, are always my first choice.” Kissing his neck and hearing the familiar growl, Claire knew her plans to read would never transpire. Within seconds, her husband seized her lips, swallowing the moans she didn’t realize she was producing as their tongues intertwined. Finally, pulling back, she said, “But… I didn’t lock that door.”

  Easing her legs farther apart, Tony lifted Claire’s nightgown and pulled her hips toward his. “My dear, everyone else has gone to bed.”

  Claire couldn’t think of any other arguments. She wasn’t trying. Honestly, she couldn’t think of anything besides her husband and what he was doing, how he was twisting her body and mind merely with his words and tone. Though this hadn’t been her plan, she consented. It had been a long time since they’d allowed themselves to do anything outside of the security of their bedroom. Being home did have its advantages. As Tony’s large fingers roamed, Claire cared less and less about anyone else in the house. “Tony?” she managed, though forming words was becoming increasingly difficult.