Harry’s voice helped clear her thoughts, “If it’s something you want, I’m glad he returned it. But, why now?”
“He said, as a sign of commitment. In that box of information, there was a picture of it at an auction of my things. I thought it was gone forever.”
Harry took Claire’s hand and led her toward the sofa. On the table in the middle of the small grouping sat the almost empty bottle of wine and two glasses.
When Harry’s grip tightened, Claire felt the need to explain, “I ordered a bottle of wine before he showed up. It came with two glasses, and I offered some to him.”
“Very hospitable of you.”
Claire wrenched her hand free at the crispness of his tone and turn toward the bedroom. This time she didn’t get the chance to dismiss him. He followed, seized her shoulders, and turned her around. Peering down with the softest blue eyes, Harry spoke, “I don’t care about the wine. I only care that you’re safe. I called and called. You didn’t answer. His jet left the private airstrip about 12:30. I panicked. After what you told me about last time, I was scared to death you were on that jet, involuntarily.”
“I really am sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t hear my phone.” She picked it up, from the table near the wine. The screen’s message said eight missed calls, as well as text messages and emails. She checked the ringer, it was silenced. “I guess I never turned on the ringer after my meeting with Meredith.” She looked up into his caring expression. “Thank you for your concern. What’re you going to do about work tomorrow?”
Harry smiled his first smile since arriving, giving Claire the sensation of sunshine breaking through a cloudy day. “I know the boss. I’d better text her and let her know you’re all right, but she gave me the day off.”
Claire grinned, enjoying the sensation of raised cheeks instead of ones dampened with tears, “I’ve always heard it helps to have connections.”
Harry leaned down and kissed her nose. “I like your smile much better than the sad face.”
“Me too.” She tipped her face up and allowed her lips to linger on his. “I know I look like hell. I’m gonna go clean-up. Why don’t you text Amber?”
“I think you’re beautiful, but go do whatever you want. You need some more sleep and so do I. I’ll text her.”
Wrestling butterflies and insecurities, Claire opened the door from the bedroom to the living room as her hand trembled slightly on the cool door knob. Scanning the suite, she immediately noticed Harry’s bed. He had a sheet, blanket, and pillow on the sofa. Continuing to search, she found the man she sought. Irony struck when she realized he stood exactly where Tony stood hours before, at the large window, staring out at the dark San Diego skyline.
Worried that he’d reject what she had to offer, she tried to push the doubts from her mind and press forward -- barefooted across the light carpet. As she neared him, she saw the glass in Harry’s hand; it wasn’t one of the stemmed wine goblets from the table, but a small tumbler from the bar. He swallowed the last of the wine.
Quietly she moved next to him and touched his elbow. Lost in thought and startled by the contact, he turned his gaze to her. She watched as his blue eyes devoured and his expression morphed. She was only inches away, her face clean of makeup and tears, her hair brushed, and wearing a silk, floor length, light green nightgown.
She remained motionless, nervously awaiting his response. When he didn’t speak, she tried for levity, “You’re awfully tall to sleep on that sofa.”
Keeping his eyes fixed to hers, he replied, “I was thinking the same thing as I put the blanket there.” His hand gently went to Claire’s shoulder, teasing the delicate spaghetti strap. She closed her eyes and exhaled, causing her breasts to move as her lungs deflated.
In unison, they stepped forward. Her nipples hardened as they brushed the silk nightgown and pushed against his hard chest. They’d been close to this numerous times, always stopping before making the ultimate leap.
Claire knew the consequence of her clothing choice. She had shorts and t-shirts for her morning work-outs. If she’d chosen that for her sleeping attire, she’d have sent an entirely different message. But she didn’t. Her decision wasn’t made hastily; she’d been debating it for weeks.
Harry’s voice resonated deeper than usual, “You’ve had a long night. Don’t you want some sleep?”
Her body shivered with anticipation, and her response came breathily, “Eventually.”
He pulled her petite frame to him. Within his embrace, her body became liquid, molding against his. “Are you sure? I didn’t come here for this.”
She nodded, smiling a shy tight lipped smile and wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. “I know. You came because you were worried about me.” It was Harry’s turn to nod. She strained her tip toes to kiss his cheek, “And I appreciate your concern.”