Convicted (Consequences)

she exposed her breasts for more of his delicious torture. While she still had the ability to speak, she murmured, “First—first, I have a request.”
    His mischievous grin caused Claire’s muscles—the ones deep inside that had yet to be touched—to tighten. With a raised eyebrow, he quipped, “Yes? I think I might like this. Does it involve black satin?”
    Fighting the carnal desire, she snickered. “No.” Trying to focus, she replied, “I want you to promise that you won’t leave me, no more talk of divorce—ever. I want my happily ever after . Despite everything, I trust you and your word. If you tell me you’ll never divorce me or discuss it—I’ll believe you.”
    His baritone pitch resonated throughout their suite and deep into her soul as he spoke between kisses to her exposed skin. “You, my dear, are my drug. I’m so damn addicted”—“I can’t quit you”—“I know, because I’ve tried—not for me—but for you”—“I failed miserably”—“The more I have of you—the more I need”—“I can never get enough”—“If you’ll have me back— after all, this is your estate ”—“If you’ll allow me to move back, I’ll try every day to give you exactly what you deserve”—“And I promise I will never mention divorce again.”
    Claire pulled his face toward hers. Their kiss lingered as his fingers continued to roam, each move delving lower and lower. His promise returned color to her world—she was his, and he was hers. Her nails bit into his shoulders as he teased and electrified her body with taunting caresses. Breaking the spell, he looked honestly into her eyes. “I want you so badly, but I need to be honest.”
    Her mind whirled with the possibilities of his confession.
    Tony continued, “I can’t promise you the happy ever after .” A lump formed in her throat, fearing his next words. “Not because you don’t deserve one—but because I know myself, and I’ll probably screw it up; however, I can promise I’ll spend the rest of my life trying. Is that enough for you?”
    Tears of relief cascaded from the corners of her emerald eyes. She captured him with her expression of acceptance; however, it was her words that secured the lock, “Tony, it’s more than enough.” Kissing his neck, she offered, “I promise that I’ll never drive away to leave you again, and I’ll never listen to anyone else without learning the truth from you, but”—she paused to deliver more butterfly kisses—“I will drive away, to multiple places.” Claire waited. When he didn’t argue, she continued with a smile, “And I’ll travel easier knowing Phil is there—when you can’t be.”
    Tony’s approving smile lit her world—his touch kindled a smoldering passion on the brink of an out of control wildfire.
    “I think we have a deal.”
    With a playful smile, Claire added, “Now, if you don’t make love to me right this minute, I’ll have you thrown off my property.”
    “My—Mrs. Rawlings, will my lodging payments continue to be so extreme?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have the rest of our lives to come up with new ideas. You know, I’m very creative and let me warn you—the payments will be daunting—I hope you’re up for it.”
    His dark chocolate eyes liquefied into molten pools of brown, glistening above his signature devilish grin, as he said, “I believe that you know that I am—and Mrs. Rawlings, I look forward to your challenges. Apparently, only you can decide whether I make the cut.”
    Claire’s eyes fluttered as her body quaked in anticipation. Gripping his shoulders, she whispered, “Don’t disappoint me—there will be consequences.”

 
     
     
    The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life .
    —Richard Bach
     
     
     
    The aroma of sea filled the air as a gentle breeze brought the sound of the surf into the large living room. Madeline’s smile reflected the mood of the occasion. It had been years since she’d had so many people on the island. By the glow in her big brown eyes, her heart was as full as the house. The little baby she’d helped bring into the world was a beautiful little girl with large brown eyes—soft as suede and filled with joy –just like her father’s.
    Claire held tightly to her sister’s hand as they both watched Tony place their grandmother’s pearl necklace around Nichol’s neck.
    “Look, Momma! Look, Aunt Em! Isn’t it pretty?”