Her lips trembled as she replied, “Yes, Anthony, I’ll behave.”
While he untied her wrists, he spoke, “I want you to take another shower and dress in a negligee—something black and long. I assume you remember my rules regarding attire? There’ll be nothing under that negligee.” Not waiting for an answer, he ran his thumb under her eye to smear more of the mascara. “You’ll also need to fix your makeup. Don’t take too long. I’ll be back soon.” Though she was no longer bound to the headboard, her hands were together over her chest as Anthony continued to release her wrists from the length of material. “You need to drink some water. I don’t want you to dehydrate, but do not go to sleep—I have plans. We have a long evening ahead.”
Claire didn’t speak. Once her hands were free, she rubbed her wrists, and her gaze searched for the robe she’d left lying near the bed. When she started to reach for it, Anthony corrected her. “No. I want to see you.”
He watched as she struggled with the decision to leave the robe and obey his command. Finally, she started to step away from the bed. As she did, Anthony noticed the ever so slight shake of her head and grasped her arm. She stilled where he held her. “What?” he asked. “Tell me why you shook your head.”
Claire stuttered. “I-I didn’t, or at least I don’t think I did.”
His grasp tightened. “Claire, you’ll be honest with me at all times. I saw you shake your head. What were you thinking?”
She closed her eyes and more tears cascaded down her cheeks. When she opened them, she said, “I was thinking.”
“Don’t make me ask you to elaborate—again.”
“I-I was thinking that this can’t be real. It’s some kind of nightmare. It can’t really be happening to me.”
Anthony let go of her arm and noticed the redness from his grasp. Claire’s hand immediately went to the spot and massaged. Standing, he looked down at her. “Oh, my dear, it’s real, and don’t pretend that you hate it. I can tell when someone enjoys herself and you,” he inclined his head and broadened his grin, taunting, “have enjoyed yourself more than once this evening.” When her eyes started to look away, he lifted her chin. “Haven’t you?”
“Please—I don’t want any of this.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.” He intensified his grasp. “I like my questions answered the first time. Do you understand?”
Her neck straightened. The sudden determination he saw in her expression surprised him as she replied, “I understand, and despite what you think you may have sensed, NO! I have not enjoyed myself.”
Oh, there was fire yet to tame.
When he didn’t release her chin, Claire’s tone softened, “Now, may I please go take another shower?”
Amused by her candor, he replied, “First, my dear, I don’t believe you; however, I believe that you believe you. Therefore, I’ll allow this little bit of dishonesty to go unpunished. I recommend that you remember for future reference, I will not tolerate lying or deception. When it is discovered, you will be sorry. Second, expressing gratitude for positive consequences is not only appreciated, it’s expected. So, Claire, what do you say when someone does something nice for you, like for example, untying your hands?”
He savored the moment as she comprehended his words. With her neck still straight, her words issued forth, saturated with a combination of rebellion and sarcasm. “Thank you, Anthony.”
He released her chin. “Very good—do you remember my instructions?”
“Yes, I remember.” She stayed still. When he didn’t speak, she added, “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Then you may go.”
He watched appreciatively as she walked unclothed to the bathroom and closed the door. Yes, she would come around. It may be a slow and agonizing process, but he had all the time he wanted. After the bathroom door shut, he walked around the bed and pulled on his trousers. He, too, could use a shower. Momentarily, he considered joining Claire. The smile that emerged had more to do with her reaction than his actions. There would be plenty of time for that. He’d told her that he would leave and return, and he was curious to see if she’d follow his directions. If she didn’t, there would be consequences.
As he exited the suite, he called the kitchen. “Have dinner sent to Claire’s suite in an hour.”
Chapter Two
The symphony—Late May 2010
(Consequences—Chapter 8)
In nature there are neither rewards nor punishments; there are consequences.
—Robert Green Ingersoll
From the speaker on Anthony’s desk, he listened to his assistant’s voice, “Shelly is on line three.”
Anthony’s thoughts went from the spreadsheet on his screen to his publicist. “Patricia, put her through.”
Immediately, he heard Shelly’s concern. “Mr. Rawlings, Jennifer McAdams is in Italy on a photo shoot, and it’s lasted longer than she planned.”
“And you’re telling me this because—”
“Because, sir, she’s supposed to accompany you this evening to the Quad City Symphony at the Adler Theater.”
Anthony ran his fingers through his hair. Damn—he’d forgotten all about that, and he actually enjoyed Jenny’s company, unlike many of the women he’s been seen with over the years. “Well, then I’ll cancel.”
“With all due respect, you can’t. The theater will remain open because of your donation. They’re planning on your attending, and there’s a long list of guests coming to see you …”
Shelly rambled about the importance of his presence, as Anthony thought more about the outing. Could this be an unplanned opportunity to test Claire outside the estate? His grin emerged—outside. She’d just recently earned her way outside of the house. Truthfully, she’d been doing much better than he imagined, and outside would’ve happened much sooner, if only she’d asked. He shifted slightly in his large leather chair. Even the slightest thought of his complete control over her life had an effect on his body.
Shelly’s voice brought him back to the subject at hand. The idea of a new test intrigued him. This would push her outside of her newly established comfort level. Besides, if she accompanied him and succeeded, she could earn more privileges. If she failed—well, they both knew what that could bring.
Shelly’s voice quieted. Anthony waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he asked, “What was that?”
“Do you want me to call Julia?”
“No.” Although, like Jenny, Julia too was a model, she was too high-maintenance for Anthony’s liking.
“Do you plan to attend alone?”
Anthony wrestled with his thoughts. If he took Claire out in public and she failed, wouldn’t Davenport, Iowa, be a better testing ground, than say Chicago or New York? He could manage damage control much better in his own backyard, and taking her out into the world would accomplish another goal. Anthony truly wasn’t convinced Claire contemplated the magnitude of his power. Oh, she saw his wealth regarding the estate, and her behavior had steadily improved over the last two months; however, did she really comprehend his reach? Did she truly understand that any attempts at escape could be quickly thwarted? Taking her to an event where he’s the man of honor would show her firsthand the depth and breadth of his power. Anthony made his decision: it was time. “I won’t be attending alone.”