by Jenna Chase
No one moved as Isabella waited patiently for any response. None came.
“This press conference will now commence. You may ask questions for a total of fifteen minutes, one question at a time.”
***
TEVIS
Tevis sat upright in the chair as he watched Claire on the monitor. He hadn't seen her since she’d left Erland's house with Sam close on her heels. He studied her hungrily, taking in the immaculate makeup, the styling, and the way she held herself. Kathryn Tyler had died ten years earlier but she'd left behind a young girl who had grown into a woman who was as dignified and as talented as she ever was.
Fay Tyler was stunningly beautiful. Within hours her face would grace the cover of every magazine represented in the room next door. But Tevis knew none of the photographs would do Claire justice, even though the new ones had been commissioned with a top photographer. The face he loved was the one he'd woken up to each morning they'd been together. The face that had crinkled in laughter at him. The face that studied the world around her as if she was imagining her own photographs.
He smiled at her wit and at the way she handled the people in the next room. At the end of fifteen minutes she had them laughing and falling in love with her. But Tevis knew the depth of her fear, saw the slight hesitations and recognised them for what they were. Everyone else in the room did not. It was a polished performance.
The final question was the one he knew would come even though it was off limits. He leant forward as it was asked, studying the journalist in detail on one of the monitors.
“Fred Jones, Citrus Gem Magazine,” the man announced.
So this was the press contact Derek Jones had sold information to, his nephew who had been benefiting from the arrangement for years. He wondered if the magazine had been aware of the relationship as they handed over the cash.
Tevis watched Claire's face on the other monitor. She cocked her head and gave the journalist a slight smile. “Yes, Mr Jones, what is your question?”
“What happened on the day your mother died? Why did she leave you at the studio?”
“Mr Jones, you well know that question is in breach of the agreement your publisher signed. I must ask you to leave the room,” Isabella snapped back.
Claire held up her hand to stay her, looking around the room at the journalists. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have made it clear that questions of a personal nature are off limits.”
Tevis held his breath as Claire turned her stare back on the Citrus Gem Magazine journalist. “Mr Jones, my mother provided me with a level of love and affection you probably don't comprehend. She was my world and I lost her that day. Your magazine then proceeded to try and destroy the love her fans had for her too.”
The room was silent, so silent Tevis could hear the breathing of the journalists sitting close to the microphones.
“My mother loved me. She was devoted to caring and protecting me. She didn't leave me on the set, she had arranged for me to be picked up. She died that day with the man she loved, but not more than she loved me and not any less.”
Claire paused and Tevis couldn't guess at what she would say next but he could tell she hadn't finished.
“My mother was a vivacious, wonderful woman who was loved by millions.” Claire's eyes never left the journalist's face. ”She still is. But the love between her and her family went much deeper and we still miss her. We always will. I hope that one day the man I love will be able to say the same about me.” She straightened and clasped her hands on her lap. “That is all, this interview is now over.”
Low murmurs rippled around the room. Some of the journalists rose out of their chairs.
“The interview may be over, but the press conference is not.” Isabella's words snapped through the air, reminding Tevis why he employed her as his lawyer. He smiled to himself. Whatever Isabella had to say it must be good. He recognised the look of a winner in her eyes.
The journalists fell silent as Isabella waited for those who had stood to retake their seats.
“I am going to refer you the events of last week when a number of journalists appear to have sought information about my client by waiting outside a private property in Belgravia.” Isabella paused as she studied the faces in the room. “Those individuals were in breach of an injunction issued ten years ago on behalf of my client.”
A low muttering went around the room and Isabella paused until it quietened again. Tevis watched Claire's face. It remained composed, giving no hint that she had any idea about what Isabella was about to say.
“I refer to three words in that legal judgement—engaged in education. These are important words. It appears that some of you have taken these words to mean that having completed her university education you are now free to follow my client and report on her life. This is not the case.”
Tevis smiled. Well used to dealing with contracts and agreements, he could tell Isabella had found a way to keep the press at bay. He wondered what it was as he studied her face on the monitor.
“My client is actively engaged in education,” Isabella said firmly. “And will be for the foreseeable future. She is the Chairperson of two charitable trusts. One linked with an eminent university and another with a prominent stage school. This work includes time spent in both institutions in an educational capacity.”
The journalist from Citrus Gem Magazine stood and looked pointedly at Claire. “May I ask how a twenty-five-year-old with no apparent experience becomes the Chairperson of two charitable trusts?” His tone was caustic.
Tevis restrained himself from getting out of his seat and walking into the next room. His desire to protect Claire was almost overwhelming.
“My client has been the Chairperson of both trusts since the age of twenty.” Isabella's voice was cold. “I find your tone of voice insulting, Mr Jones. If you believe that this was undertaken as a means to secure Miss Bretton's continued privacy, then I suggest you go back to your publishing company and ask if they wish to pursue this through a court of law.”
Tevis watched the body language of the journalist. He wasn't backing down.
“Miss Price, you didn't answer my question.” His sarcasm deepened. “How did your client get appointed as the Chair to two charitable trusts?”
Isabella looked at Claire, who responded with a slight nod. Tevis realised the two of them had anticipated problems with Citrus Gem's journalist. She was seeking agreement to reveal more.
“Both institutions asked my client to take the roles. The funds involved are significant and Miss Bretton has an interest in their distribution.”
Isabella's slow smile filled the screen as she looked directly at the camera before returning her attention back to her audience. Isabella was telling him she held the ace card, that everything would be okay.
“The funding for the trusts comes from one source. A very generous source—Miss Claire Bretton. They were established in her late mother's memory. Every penny of her inheritance from Kathryn Tyler's estate and all the ongoing royalties, including those of Fay Tyler, go directly to both institutions. For the last five years, talented young people in a range of creative fields have benefited from the support of these funds.”
Isabella stood. “That is all. This press conference is now over.”
Nobody said a word as she walked out of the room with Claire and Fran.
Chapter Six
CLAIRE
It was only as she walked back into the hotel room she'd been in earlier, that she allowed Fay Tyler to become Claire Bretton again. Closing her eyes she leant back against the door. Isabella and Fran were checking out the recordings and then planned to go back to the Stanford and Henderson office. For the first time in days, her time was her own.
She had a decision to make. What to do next?
A forced cough told her she wasn't alone.
Claire opened her eyes. At the window, outlined by the sun stood a man. Tevis.
His arms were held wide and she walked across the room and st
raight into his embrace. Tears were streaming down her face as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
“I'm sorry. I was so wrong Tevis. Wrong to leave you. Wrong about a lot of things in my life.”
He lifted her chin with his finger and gazed into her eyes. “I'm proud of you. Proud of what you did today. I know it wasn't easy.”
“It's something I should have done years ago—faced up to the truth. Tevis, my mother was divorcing my father. She died with the man she loved.”
“I know. I spoke to Erland.”
Claire stepped back and out of his arms. “You found him? How? I never told you who he is.”
“Don't worry.”
“Of course I'm worried. He has a perfect life—I can't wreck it for him.” She chewed at her bottom lip. How would all this affect Sarah and Elliot?
“Neither of you have to hide your relationship.” Tevis stroked her hair as he continued to speak. “From what I heard today, the injunction still prevents the press from going after your family. He loves you Claire.”
“I know.” She looked up at Tevis. “He has always been there for me.”
“You have me too,” Tevis said softly.
She held his gaze. “I can't do this, Tevis.”
“Can't do what? Love me?” He sounded hesitant, uncertain.
“I can't keep worrying about how the press attention will impact on your life. I don't think Citrus Gem Magazine will comply. I get the feeling that journalist is going to push the boundaries of the agreement signed today.”
“The owner of the company will insist he complies.” Tevis laughed dryly, his mouth turning upwards. “And from what I hear, he's a right bastard.”
Claire frowned, Tevis sounded supremely confident. She stared at him, the grin didn't disappear. “What have you done? Have you spoken to him?”
“I own the company. My team have been working on the takeover for a week and concluded the deal late last night.” His eyes sparkled with amusement, “I'm the one who signed the agreement with Stanford and Henderson Law this morning. Mr Jones will be meeting the new owner shortly and has some explaining to do.”
“You did that for me?”
“Yes. I protect those I love,” he said simply as if buying a company was an everyday occurrence. Claire knew it must have cost millions, if not billions, of pounds.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Put a good editor in charge. Change the ethics of the company and its publications. Beyond that, I haven't given it much thought.”
“It probably isn't a good investment, Tevis. You could lose a lot of money.”
“Claire Bretton, I don't care about the money. I do care about you. Besides—” he raised an eyebrow at her, “you know I never lose.”
Claire couldn't help the small sob which escaped her lips.
“Shush,” he responded, pulling her close again and laying his cheek against her hair. “I love you, Claire. Are you ready to come home?”
She looked up at him and gave him a watery smile.
“Yes. Take me home, Tevis.”
***
Tevis unfastened her bra, slipped the silky straps down her arms and flung it on the floor.
“God, I've missed you,” he growled in her ear, as he reached around her body and grabbed her breasts, pulling her tight against his chest. He was already naked, his clothes scattered across the room.
She felt his thick erection against her silk clad buttocks. A ripping of fabric and the final barrier was gone. He reached down and pushed her folds apart with his fingers, tracing delicately round her clit as he nuzzled at her shoulder taking nipping, teasing, bites at her flesh
Claire pressed her buttocks harder against him. “Tevis, please...” She could barely speak as his fingertip rubbed the hard nub between her legs. She wanted him inside, to enfold his thick cock. Wanted to show him what he did to her body. What he did to her mind.
“You're so fucking wet,” he moaned, slicking his finger up over her mound and over her stomach. “So fucking wet.” His body quivered against hers. “I want you—I need you— Claire.”
Tevis lifted her into his arms and crossed the room to place her on the bed. Their bed.
Straddling her body he looked down into her eyes. She wriggled, pleasuring in the feel of his balls against her mound and the hardness of his erection pressing against her stomach.
“Fuck me, Tevis.” her voice was husky, almost breathless. “Don't wait.” She reached down and wrapped her hands around the thick root of his cock. “I want you inside me.” She stroked the sensitive flesh, sliding her finger over the smooth head and through the sticky juices already there for her.
He jerked in response, “If you keep doing that—talking like that—I'll come all over you,” he growled, grabbing her hand and pulling it away.
“Tevis?”
“What?”
She stared at him, only barely in control. “I love you.”
“I know,” he responded, with a wildness in his eyes that could not hide his need. Grasping her hands and pressing her onto the bed, he pushed his knee between her legs.
“I've loved you since the moment you first fought me.” He placed his cock against her slit, parting her folds as he pushed against her. He entered her firmly, forcefully, spreading her wide.
She arched against him, a moan escaping her lips at the pure pleasure of sharing herself with him.
He watched her every emotion as he fucked her. Stroking her flesh as her hips rose to meet him.
She responded, wide-eyed, not masking a single feeling, showing him what he was doing to her body. Pulling her hands from his grip, she raked her fingers down his flesh, slicking a trail through the sweat coating his muscles.
“I'm going to come...” she gasped. Every thought, every nerve, every sensation, swirled into electrifying pulses which rippled through her core and across her skin.
“Claire…,” he groaned, as his strokes increased to match the pace of her need.
“Oh god… Tevis!” Her body and mind exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour, of sensation, as her hands tore at the sheets and ripped at his flesh.
“Fuck!” He followed her over the edge, rushing to release. Jerking hard, he filled her, his eyes never leaving hers as he spent himself deep inside her body.
His face raw with emotion, he pressed his forehead to hers.
“I will always love you,” he said passionately, as he kissed the tears away from her face.
Chapter Seven
CLAIRE
“Why couldn't we come here together?” She slipped into the seat opposite him.
“I’ve been busy with something,” Tevis responded, his face blank and unreadable.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you weren't going to work on a Sunday, that it would always be our day?”
“And you haven't been working?” he grinned, pointing to her camera.
She cocked her head and smiled back. “That's different, my photography is a pleasure.”
He took her hand and pulled her towards him as he leant over the table and gave her a kiss. “You're wrong, I haven't been working,” he mouthed against her lips.
Relaxing back into her seat she studied him. In the two weeks since the press conference, Tevis had spent much of his time at his new publishing company.
“So, no magazine to deal with today?”
“No.” He traced his fingers over the back of her hand. “And there won't be much more for me to do. The new editor is in place and I've handed over responsibility for running it to my cousin, Roddy.”
“Is he pleased?” Somehow she had the feeling Tevis hadn't liked Roddy flirting with her.
“He is at the moment,” Tevis grinned, “but he has no idea how much work is involved. He might change his mind.”
“So, what have you been doing? I was looking forward to walking here with you today.” She knew it was petty of her but she had been disappointed when he told her he'd meet her at Ivan's Coffee
Bar.
He stood and she saw he had a bar apron tied around his waist.
“Madam, if you'd care to wait a few minutes, I have a surprise for you.”
She was aware of her mouth falling open as, bemused, she watched him weave between the tables and join Ivan behind the counter. The older man moved to one side as Tevis pulled glasses and jugs down from the shelf.
With his back to her, she couldn't see what Tevis was doing. It didn't help that Ivan now hovered at his side, watching his every move and blocking her view.
More people came in, taking seats and picking up menus. Ivan didn't move. Whatever Tevis was doing, it was more interesting than serving customers. Now and again, he muttered something or passed an item to Tevis.
Ivan came over to her table. “Tevis says you have to close your eyes.” It seemed the two of them were on first name terms.
She glanced over to the counter but she still couldn't see what was going on.
“Okay.” She shut her lids knowing she was not going to find out unless she did.
She listened to the sound of items being placed on the table and of Tevis taking his seat again.
“Open your eyes.”
A tall glass containing a pink concoction stood on the table in front of her.
“You've made me a milkshake?”
“The perfect strawberry milkshake.” Tevis emphasised the word perfect, stretching out the word as he spoke it.”
“I told you only my Dad makes—” A thought popped into her head. “Did he give you the recipe?”
“No. I had to work it out for myself.” He smiled wryly at her. “He made one for me but without the secret ingredient.”
She grinned. “Ah, so it's probably—almost—perfect.”
“I'm stubborn and I don't give up.” He gave her a slightly worried look. “If I haven't managed to work it out, this will be the first time I've ever lost.”
She looked down at her glass. It looked exactly like the milkshakes her father had been making for her since childhood. There was no way Tevis could have discovered their secret.
She glanced across the cafe to the owner. “What was Ivan doing?
