Convicted (46 page)

Read Convicted Online

Authors: Aleatha Romig

Tags: #Contemporary

She, on the other hand, had no desire to leave the island. Unless she had an appointment with the doctor, Claire preferred to stay near the house. Being in the southern hemisphere, the hottest time of year was approaching. If Claire didn’t keep her feet elevated, her ankles and feet swelled. The infinity pool allowed her to float and stay cool. Madeline doted on her constantly, encouraging her to eat small meals and get plenty of liquids. Home was Claire’s cocoon. She knew if they stayed there, they’d remain safe.

In her third trimester, sleeping at night had its problems, so often times, daytime activities morphed into napping. She’d be sunbathing or reading, and the next thing she knew, she was waking. The early day was her favorite time for sun before it became too intense. With her iPad at hand, she’d begin each day reading the news from the other side of the world. Sometimes it held her attention, and other times she’d lay the tablet face down and be lulled into a peaceful, dreamless state where her senses filled with the warm sun on her skin, lingering aroma of cologne mixed with her recently applied sunscreen, and the omnipresent roar of the surf.

Claire was in such a state, when without warning, large hands caressed her ankles and moved sensually toward her thighs. No longer was she on the edge of sleep. Her world was reignited as the tips of her lips turned upward and goose bumps materialized.

Opening her resting eyes, behind her sunglasses, and focusing on the handsome face before her, Claire saw her husband’s devilish grin. It was a smirk of lust and pleasure, one which—with only a glance—could melt not only her insides, but her world. His eyes, too, were covered by dark glasses, yet as his smiling lips neared hers and her smile willingly changed to a pucker, she longed for the unseen intensity waiting for her behind that dark glass.

Reaching up, Claire lifted the dark barrier. Tony’s eyes were the windows to his soul. She loved reading his emotions, especially when desire was part of the mix. In response, Tony, slowly and deliberately, removed her sunglasses and their eyes met. There was a moment when she thought to speak, but it was short-lived—so much more could be said without words.

Earlier that morning when Claire woke, Tony was gone. Madeline said he’d gone out on the boat. Now, after only hours apart, Claire realized their reunion would be more than a simple,
Hi, how are you today?

It was true, her body had been thoroughly fulfilled and used the night before; nevertheless, it yearned for what was silently being offered. When his full, soft lips engaged hers, the passion of the night before returned with a vengeance. Only moments earlier, her lungs inhaled without instruction, yet as acquiescing moans escaped her lips, breathing required thought. Maybe it wasn’t thought, it was timing. Inhaling needed to occur in unison. If it didn’t, his unrelenting approach would rob her body of the oxygen necessary to go on. As her bathing suit covered breasts ached for the friction of his chest, Claire decided breathing was overrated. She wanted the heat that was overtaking her—to be consumed by the fire smoldering in the dark penetrating eyes.
If in the process she forgot to breathe, did it really matter?

With the doors to their suite open to the crystal blue sea, their room was only slightly more private than the lanai; however, it was their room. Madeline and Francis respected their privacy. As Claire’s bathing suit fell to the floor, she realized they’d yet to speak, and still they’d conversed more than some couples did in a lifetime. They’d greeted one another, discussed the pleasantries of the tropical morning, and assessed that each was doing well.

Laying on the soft comforter with her arms above her head, the man she loved gazing down at only her, and the large ceiling fan methodically moving the humid air, Claire’s world was right.
Had she planned on her morning taking this turn? No. Was she willing? Without a doubt.

The large talented hands claiming her body also had her soul. While his approach could at times be forceful—it was always gentle. Claire willingly surrendered, as she’d done a thousand times, to the whims and desires of the man above her. With no words, he could manipulate and dominate—move her from a state of sleeping bliss to the throes of erotic desire. Similar to years ago, his dark eyes held the passion and emotion which allowed her world to spin. Because he willed it so, the world was right.

Their past was significant, yet—insignificant. Years ago, Tony had told Claire not to talk about the past. He’d said they had a future and they needed to look ahead; nonetheless, at her prompting, the first month of their new marriage had been spent primarily in the past. She hadn’t asked to know the truth—she’d demanded it.

When Claire was young, her grandmother told her to be careful what she wished for. Without a doubt, Tony and her grandmother were correct. There were times she wished for ignorance, times she wanted not to know all he’d told her; however, she did know—and in knowing—she wanted to put it all behind them. Claire wanted to look ahead toward a future with the man making love to her, seducing her, and fulfilling her every desire. She knew from experience that life with him could be difficult—but without him—the entire planet would spin out of control, lost forever in the darkest depths of the universe.

Claire closed her eyes and concentrated on his talented fingers as they caressed her skin. Beginning at the nape of her neck, they trailed lightly down her body. Uncontrollably, Claire heard her own voice, truly nothing more than a ragged breath surrounded by a moan as her back arched, pushing her chest toward his touch—wanting—needing more.

He taunted her sensitive breasts, tweaking and suckling. Though she wanted the jubilation to last, it took so little to propel Claire to the edge of ecstasy. Sometimes something as simple as a deliberate puff of air on a taut, wet nipple instantaneously liquefied her insides and removed reasoning from her thoughts. Teasing her to the point of begging, yet satisfying her every desire was her husband’s specialty. Despite the way she’d changed—the way her body had changed—she felt wanted and sexy. He skillfully caressed and suckled as he moved south over her enlarged midsection—her baby—his baby—their baby. Its presence only intensified their union.

As their little one grew, creativity became a necessity.
What was it they said? Necessity was the mother of invention.
When they were both satisfied, Claire nestled her cheek against Tony’s chest, and he broke their silence. Instead of listening to his words, she enjoyed the reverberation of his raspy voice while mindlessly contemplating his next invention.

A few moments later, Tony tilted Claire’s face toward him, lifting her chin with one finger and repeated, “I believe I said, good morning, Mrs. Rawlings.”

“Mm mm,” she cooed. “It sure is, Mr. Rawlings.”

Tony scooted up to the headboard with his arm around Claire’s bare shoulder. His voice brimmed with excitement. “I found a nearby island. It isn’t large, and it’s uninhabited. I’ve been there a few times. Before I found you at the pool, I asked Madeline to pack us a lunch so that I could take you there.”

Claire’s satisfied smile faded, and her body stiffened. “I don’t know.”

“You need to get off this island for more than doctor’s appointments.”

“Why?” she asked. “I can order anything I want. Francis will pick it up and bring it here.” She placed her nose near his neck and inhaled. “I got your cologne.” Claire smiled as her lips touched the spot below his ear, and his famous growl filled her ears. “It’s not like we can go visit friends. There’s no reason to leave.”

Stopping her kisses, he said, “I have one.”

“Oh, you do? And what would that be?”

“I said so,” he answered smugly.

Claire eased herself from bed and shook her head from side to side. “Sorry, sweetheart, that one doesn’t work anymore.” With the sheet wrapped around her curvaceous body, she stepped toward the bathroom and asked, “Would you like to join me for a cool shower?”

Perhaps it was because she had the sheet or maybe because it wasn’t that great of a distance, but as he swiftly got out of their bed and gracefully moved toward her; Claire couldn’t look away from his gorgeous body. Totally nude, he reached her in only a few steps. When Claire remembered to focus on his face, she found an expression she didn’t expect.

Before it could register, he gripped her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. In his voice, Claire heard the determination and saw the darkness that she felt in his grasp. “I realize our options are limited; however, I won’t allow you to be isolated or imprisoned—again—by anyone. For the record, that includes you.”

“Tony, that’s ridiculous. I’m not imprisoning myself. I’m comfortable and happy. There’s a difference.”

He exhaled, lifted her chin, and spoke slowly and deliberately. “I’d love to join you for that shower. I’d love to help you reapply your sunscreen, and”—his words were controlled, not loud or harsh—or open for debate—“I know you wouldn’t want to disappoint Madeline...or me; therefore, after the shower, you and I are going to the small island that I found, and we’re having lunch.”

His thumb and finger continued to hold her chin captive. The forced tilt of her head wasn’t necessary; Claire wouldn’t look away even if she could. She knew his tone and saw his restraint. She also knew he was doing what he did—trying to control a world that was uncontrollable.

While she contemplated her response, he spoke. “Do you want to discuss this more?”

After a prolonged silence, her green eyes began to shimmer. She didn’t speak, yet by the softening of his gaze, she knew he was listening. Finally, she said, “Fine, I won’t discuss it, but if we’re going out without Francis, I want to drive the boat.”

Tony released her chin and their room filled with his laughter. Brushing his lips over hers, he replied, “Oh, my dear, over my dead body!”

 

 

Claire didn’t know why she’d been so hesitant. The water was beautiful, glistening and sparkling in all directions. Every trip she’d taken had been to town. Tony’s island was the opposite direction with all new sights. As they passed island after island, Claire wondered how anyone could possibly know which direction they were traveling or where they were.

Tony explained the instruments he’d only recently learned to read. They had a compass, a depth finder, and a virtual map with a grid and coordinates. They also had their cell phones and two-way radios to access help if necessary. When the islands came close together and the straight in between narrowed, Tony showed Claire how the depth finder indicated the boat’s proper position. Running into underwater rocks could be as detrimental as hitting one of the above water cliffs.

While they were still a ways away, Tony pointed toward the West. Claire followed his hand. The view took her breath away. The island he’d discovered was beautiful, the perfect south pacific deserted isle away from the numerous islands they’d just passed. It didn’t take a depth finder to tell them that the water became shallower closer to their destination. The sea lightened with rings of turquoise as it surrounded the white sandy beach. Beyond the shore were palm trees and other lush plants. As they neared the island, colorful flowers dotted the terrain. When Tony finally anchored the boat off the shore, Claire was equally as excited to see this new land.

Hand in hand, they walked on the soft sand as Tony showed Claire all he’d already discovered. She loved the sound of his voice. Never could she have imagined Anthony Rawlings so excited about something like a hidden freshwater waterfall. Under the canopy of vegetation, they ate the meal Madeline prepared and listened to the soft breeze through the palm trees. Helping Claire down to the cool shaded sand, Tony insisted she rest.

With her head and back against his chest, she drifted between her reality and a dream world. It was during one of those states where Claire realized they were the same. For a short time, they had the dream. As she lingered between wake and sleep, the sweet aroma of flowers filled her senses and she tentatively opened her eyes. Orange, yellow, and red filled her vision. The most colorful bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen was right in front of her.

“Oh, Tony! They’re beautiful!”

The lush shades of green and bright colored flowers didn’t right Claire’s world as much as the chocolate brown eyes smiling down at her.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“I’m glad you talked me into coming here. It’s amazing.”

He helped her to her feet and they walked toward the shore. The tide had come in making the beach narrower and the boat farther away.

“How long did I sleep?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve had so much trouble sleeping at night lately; I wanted to let you rest as long as you could.”

“If we wait then the tide will go back out.”

“And the sun will set. I don’t want to try to get us back in the dark.”

Claire smirked. “You could let me drive. I’ve had a nap.”

“My dear, you could sleep for hours, and I’m not giving up the helm.”

“So, are we swimming for it?”

Claire saw the wheels turning in Tony’s head. He was working out the possible scenarios in his mind. To her, it was simple—they were both good swimmers.

When Claire began to remove her sundress and expose her bathing suit, Tony reached for her hand, stopping her movement. “No, I’ll swim for the boat, and bring it back closer.”

If she weren’t pregnant, Claire would argue; however, she obviously was. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she lifted herself on her toes and kissed his lips. “Be careful.”

Tony promised, as he shed his shirt, kissed her one last time, and waded into the sea. Claire watched nervously as he dove under the crystal water. It was then Madeline’s words came back to her, reassuring her—darkness verses light. The sun was still bright. Scanning the panoramic scene, Claire was able to see under surface of the clear calm water. “It’s safe,” she said aloud, to no one in particular, as the familiar pounding in her temples and new tightening in her midsection screamed out their warning.

Lowering herself to the sand, Claire took deep breaths and searched the horizon for her husband. With each passing minute, his figure became smaller and smaller. It was then she realized, not only was the tide coming in, but the boat was drifting out.
Could the rising tide have lifted the anchor?

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