He gently held her chin, as his voice continued with its seductive undertone, “You, my dear, have never been a good liar.”
In a moment of strength, Claire backed away and sat, exasperated. She’d willingly admit defeat in this stupid stare-off. His proximity was more than she could bear. She needed air and space. Her arms once again crossed her heaving bosom, igniting friction on her disloyal nipples. Frustrated, she admitted, “You’re right. Your deceitfulness far exceeds my modest attempts at dishonesty. I bow-down to your superior duplicity.”
Tony retook his seat on the sofa as his knee touched hers. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I thought you should know why I came to California.”
She looked up into his genuine gaze, “Why?”
“To take you back to Iowa.”
Claire stared at her ex-husband. A momentary feeling of panic filled her senses. She sat dumbfounded, unable to respond, afraid to trust her own voice. The appealing idea to slap his smug face and scream at him, danced through her consciousness. She knew she couldn’t do it. She’d already pushed her luck with her earlier verbal tirade. Nevertheless, the fleeting thought made her smile. Simultaneously, she fought the desires she’d been experiencing all night. That traitorous part of her wanted to forget all reason and take whatever he offered, and more. Eventually, wisdom prevailed; she responded, “Well, since this time I have a choice, I’m going to say no.”
“Catherine misses you.”
She searched his face for insincerity and found none. However, she’d misjudged that in the past. The sound of the woman’s name made her heart ache. Claire had no reason to lie, “I miss her, too.” Hesitantly she asked, “Does she believe I tried to kill you?”
His half smile and softened eyes disappeared. Breaking the connection he looked down at his own hands. Shaking his head slightly, he answered, “I’m not sure. We’ve never discussed it. I know at first she was worried about me. Then once I was well, she was upset, but I don’t know for sure if it was at you or at me. The subject’s never come up.”
“Then how do you know she misses me?”
“I just do. When word came of your pardon...”
She interrupted him, “You were angry.”
This time he stood and paced. Claire watched his jaw clench and unclench. She’d seen it before; his attempt to maintain control. Part of her wanted him to lose it, not a masochistic desire, more clarification. The frightening domineering man was much easier to resist than the sensual, apologetic one.
Tony stopped at the large windows. His back toward her, he seemed to be absorbing the view, taking in the mountains and sunlit sky. Silently she waited and watched. Eventually his shoulders squared, and with his back still toward her, she heard his restrained voice, “I was. I admit I was... stunned. Governor Preston informed me of your release two weeks after it occurred.” He emphasized the two weeks. “I was angry at everyone, at you for being pardoned, at Jane Allyson for presenting the petition, at Governor Bosley for signing it. Hell, I was even mad at the clerk that filed it.” He turned toward her. She knew those black eyes. He may have restrained his voice, but his true emotion shone like beacons through his intense gaze. Refusing to look away, Claire met his stare with her own intensity. He went on, “I finally figured out, the person I was the most upset with, was me. For the first time in years, yes more than three -- you know that now-- I’d lost track of you.” His volume increased, “My god, you were gone!”
There were so many things churning in her brain Claire couldn’t speak. There were statements, accusations, and questions. None would make themselves known. She just watched, knowing she’d done what she’d subconsciously wanted. She’d pushed him to the brink. Tony lingered on the precipice; a slight breeze could push him into a complete meltdown.
Her heart beat rapidly, as he walked toward her. There was no violence. His tone and eyes mellowed. He resumed his seat. “Damn it, Claire. Nothing has been the same without you. The house is just a big empty hole.”
She exhaled and asked, “Tell me why?”
He looked puzzled, “Why is it empty? Because you are not there.”
“No, Tony. Why did you do it to me? Why’d you set me up, worse -- arrange my entire life to look as though I was after your money, setting you up for the kill? You know I continually told you, I didn’t care about the money. But everything from the beginning was manipulated to make me look guilty. Now you say you loved me. You don’t do that to someone you love. Tell me why you did it.”
“It isn’t past tense, Claire. I still love you. And I thought you knew why.”
“I want to hear it from you.”