Although Tony stood resolute before her, Claire refused to turn away. Maybe it was a replay of a scene from their past. Maybe it was a move, counter move. Nevertheless, she waited while the phone rang. When the driver answered, she heard, “Ms. Nichols, this is Marcus, are you ready to be picked up?”

Looking Tony in the eyes, she replied, “Hello, Marcus, yes, this is Claire Nichols...”

She didn’t complete her sentence. Tony unexpectantly took the iPhone from her hand and spoke, “Hello, Marcus. Ms. Nichols will not need your assistance this evening.” Claire could no longer hear Marcus’s response, only Tony’s: “This is Anthony Rawlings.” “That is correct.” “Yes, you are relieved of your assignment.” “Thank you, good night.” He turned off the phone and placed it back in his pocket. His dark chocolate eyes glowed in the dim light of the penthouse.

Claire wanted to fight, she wanted her iPhone back, and she wanted to be back in Palo Alto with Harry and Amber. However, after Tony disconnected the call, she dejectedly walked to the sofa and collapsed. The tight reign she’d had on her emotions all night severed. How could it not? The tension was too much. With tears cascading down her cheeks, Claire closed her eyes and waited. She’d been here before. Not this hotel or this scenario, but one with enough similarity she knew the drill. Her only option was conceding – until her side regained strength.

Momentarily, Claire remembered Courtney, Brent, Jane, Amber, Harry, John and Emily. She wasn’t a lone chess piece – isolated, without support. The realization fortified her. Claire didn’t stand and declare victory. Nonetheless, she silently accepted their support and sat taller. Drying her tears she stared compellingly into the depths of her ex-husband’s dark abyss. If those people could stand for her, she’d sit straighter for them. Inhaling deeply and exhaling, Claire asked, “What do I need to do, to leave?”

Tony sat next to his ex-wife. His gaze mellowed. “Eric will take you home whenever you want. You may leave at any time.”

She didn’t hesitate, “Then I want to leave now.”

Tony nodded, and removed his phone from his jacket. It was at that moment she remembered why she was there, why she’d done as he asked, “Tony?” Her voice quivered with concern, “Is SiJo secure? Did they get their problem fixed?”

He placed his phone back in his pocket and replied, “Do you want to know what I have been thinking about all night?”

Claire struggled to stay on track, “What you’ve been thinking about? All right.”

 “Many things, the first – how amazing you’ve been. I’ve endured many companions since our divorce. I have not enjoyed any of those evenings as much as I have tonight, being with you.”

Claire stared; she wondered what part of that statement was supposed to warrant her response, his many companions or her exemplary performance.

Tony continued, “Shelly was not happy with my desired press release, but I decided it was the only answer. Now the world knows of our reconciliation. It is official.”

“You say that, as if it’s beyond debate.”

He peered unquestionably into her emerald eyes, “Beyond challenge. It is public.” The failure is not an option went without saying.

“SiJo?”

“The breach has been resolved. It has been since about eight o’clock this evening.”

Claire exhaled, “Thank you.”

Tony accepted her gratitude and answered, “Actually, I will have Eric take you to your condominium. It’s probably better if you don’t know what else I’ve been pondering.”

Claire sat straighter, “Thank you, again. I’m ready to leave.” She watched as he nodded. The familiar attraction sucked her into his gravitational pull, and without thinking she took his hand in hers. Propelled by curiosity as well as concern, Claire asked, “What else have you been thinking?”

“Those black lacy panties.”

Claire released his hand and stood abruptly. “What did you say?”

“I’ve been thinking about your black lacy underwear; there was a small bow.” His smile turned sensual, “I’ve been wondering what color you’re wearing tonight.”

Her voice came out an octave higher, “How do you know about black lace panties?”

Tony stood, his hands grasped her shoulders. Their chests touched and his breath quickened, “Why can’t you believe I still love you?”

“Really? After an entire night of blackmailing me into being your companion, threatening my friend’s company with disaster, and now learning that you ... that you,” her body trembled, tears once again flowed, her voice broke and became a whisper, “raped me.”

His tone was more of a plea, “No, Claire. Don’t even suggest that.” He lifted her chin and their eyes met. “You agreed to everything. You more than consented; you wanted it as much as I did.” He released her chin and her face fell against his chest.

She remembered the day he came to the condominium. She’d been up half the night dreaming about him, about them. She remembered telling him good-bye, and she remembered wanting him.

Her knees weakened as his arms surrounded her. The sound of his heart echoed in her ear, and the familiar aroma of his cologne filled her subconscious. Claire melted into his embrace; she had no strength left from which to draw. He was right. She wanted him that day. Truthfully, even at this moment she enjoyed the familiar touch. There was something about the continual challenge that kept her senses electrified. The range of emotions he elicited and the depth of understanding they shared, created a bond. She’d fought it all night. Closing her eyes she conceded the current battle. There was no fight left within her.

Tony kissed the top of her head and scooped her up into his arms.

Her voice was soft, but determined, “No. Tony, not tonight.”

“I’m putting you on the sofa. You’re about to fall.”

She nodded against the silk of his shirt. The softness against her cheek and the steady drum of his heart calmed the aching in her temples. Together they sat on a large white sofa facing the tall windows. With Tony’s long legs stretched out onto a matching ottoman and his arm still tenderly around her shoulders, Claire removed her high heels and curled her legs onto the plush cushions. Molding to his side she accepted the comfort of his embrace. For the longest time they stayed like that, silent, watching the vista before them.

The towers of the Golden Gate Bridge glowed from the street level illumination. That same light reflected picturesquely onto the water below. The night was clear and the sky appeared a deep blue black. There were no visible stars, yet the moon shone low over the darkened land on the other side of the suspension bridge.

Claire felt his chest rise and fall with the inhale and exhale of a deep breath. His rich voice resonated through the silence, “Are you ready for me to call Eric?”

When he spoke the vibration tickled her cheek. She didn’t lift her head. “What I really want are answers.”

“What kind of answers.”

“Truthful.” It was what he’d asked of her in the past. Some of their deepest heart-to-heart discussions occurred in a similar pose, intimate times when they couldn’t see one another’s expressions. When Tony didn’t respond, Claire pushed on, “You say you still love me. You’re a very intelligent man. Surely you understand actions speak louder than words.”

“You said, no.”

“I don’t mean sex. I mean actions, like tricking me tonight and setting me up for your attempted murder.” His chest rose and fell again. She felt his warm breath blowing across her hair. “Tell me why.”

“I told you. It was a loop hole.”

Claire shook her head, “I don’t understand your puzzles.”

“You, too, are very intelligent. I don’t believe you’ve spent the past year and a half without suspicions.”

“I truly didn’t understand, until I received that box of information.”