Eternally Yours (13 page)

“Okay, Syneda, if that’s the way you want it, I won’t mention it. Justin and Lorren are the only ones that will know. But I want you to know up front that I don’t care who knows. We’re adults and don’t have to answer to anyone. I won’t ever be ashamed of what we’ll be sharing, and I don’t want you to be, either. You’re very special to me.”

The manly scent of Clayton filled Syneda’s nostrils as he embraced her. She liked being held in the comfort of his arms. “And you’re very special to me, Clayton.”

Clayton’s tongue traced the outline of Syneda’s lips. He then moved his mouth from her lips to her neck and began kissing her there.

His caress on a sensitive part of her neck aroused her, setting her body on fire with desire. He lifted his head.

“Where do we go from here?”

Syneda smiled up at him. “How about the bedroom.”

Smiling, he gathered her into his arms and took her to the very place she’d requested.

Late Sunday evening Syneda walked Clayton to the door wearing his white dress shirt. She looked down at herself. “This is becoming a habit.”

He smiled as he pulled her into his arms. “But it’s one I like. You look good in my shirt. I want you to return it to me in New Orleans.”

Syneda’s eyes widened. “New Orleans?”

“Yes. Let’s meet in New Orleans two weeks from now. Will you do it?”

She looked at him for a few minutes before saying, “Yes.”

Clayton smiled. “I can’t come back to New York this coming weekend. I promised Dex and Caitlin I’d babysit Jordan while they attend Caitlin’s high school reunion in San Antonio. I would invite you to keep me company, but Jordan would love telling her parents when they returned that Aunt Neda spent the weekend with her, too.”

Syneda grinned. “Yes, I can just imagine Jordan doing that.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, momentarily becoming lost in the memories of the weekend. Clayton had been right. Somehow this weekend had far surpassed the last. The last time they had spent together was due to a mixture of curiosity and hormones. This time they had become closer friends, as well as lovers.

On Saturday morning over breakfast they had again discussed the Drayton case. And this time although they still didn’t agree completely, they had respected the other’s opinion.

“Waiting two weeks to see you again will seem like forever,” Clayton said. He pulled Syneda into his arms giving her a goodbye kiss that was destined to be the longest on record.

C
layton Madaris’s slow-paced walk and relaxed smile reflected an extremely happy man. As far as he was concerned he was on top of the world. What man wouldn’t be when he had found the woman of his dreams?

He could barely contain himself as he walked through the doors of the Remington Oil Building. The only thing that would make him any happier, he thought as he scribbled his name on the clipboard the security guard had handed to him, was for him and Syneda to have a Christmas wedding. But first he would have to make sure the future bride had fallen in love with him by then.

He shook his head, grinning. Very few people would believe that he, a man who’d always avoided any serious involvements, would be contemplating something like marriage. At times it was hard for him to believe, and he would find himself spending a very long time in the shower doing some serious thinking.

Then all it would take was for him to remember some of the reasons why he had fallen in love with Syneda to bring him back to reality. From the start, although they’d been at odds with each other, there had always been very good open communication between them. He liked the fact she was a very up-front person. She didn’t believe in sugarcoating anything. And the truth of the matter was that he’d found her combustible nature absolutely irresistible. He still did.

Before, when he’d dated a lot of women, he’d had to date quite a number of them to obtain all the qualities he had found in the one he considered as the ideal woman: Syneda.

His thoughts drifted to the weekend they had spent in New Orleans a few weeks ago. He had been to New Orleans several times before, but never had he enjoyed the city the way he had done with her. They had wined and dined in the French Quarter, had been entertained at a number of hot spots, and had made love in the heat of the night in their hotel room. He had fallen even more hopelessly, madly and passionately in love with her.

As Clayton stepped on the elevator, his thoughts turned to his brothers. Although they were now happily married to the women they loved, he could remember them going through some really tough times in the name of love. In fact, he of all people had had to intervene to keep them from making a complete mess of things. If it hadn’t been for him, Justin would not have had the good sense to accept Lorren as his fate, and poor, pitiful Dex would still be on the “pain and suffering list,” working himself to death at Madaris Explorations trying to forget Caitlin.

Clayton was glad he wasn’t going through any changes over a woman like his two brothers had. Things were progressing smoothly between him and Syneda. For most people, love didn’t grow in a short time as it had done with him. That was the reason why he would give Syneda a little bit more time before springing his true feelings on her. By then, hopefully, she would be in love with him so much that she would agree to marry him right away. Nothing would please him more than coming home to her each and every night.

When the elevator stopped on the executive floor, he got off, checking his watch. He was right on time for his meeting with the president and CEO of Remington Oil, S. T. Remington.

He had gotten the opportunity to work closely with Mr. Remington last year when Dex’s wife, Caitlin, owned a piece of land that Remington Oil had been interested in buying. Caitlin hadn’t wanted to sell the property and instead she had leased it to Remington Oil. He had represented Caitlin as her attorney in the contract negotiations.

S. T. Remington, Clayton had soon discovered, was a sharp but fair businessman. He had taken an immediate liking to the man whose family’s blue-blooded lineage could be traced all the way back to Texas’s beginning when his great-great-great-grand-father rode alongside Sam Houston. Although Remington had been born to wealth and was considered to be a private person, he was caring and concerned for all aspects of human life. That was evident in his generous contributions to numerous charities.

“Good morning, Mr. Madaris,” the secretary greeted. “Mr. Remington is expecting you. You can go right in.”

“Thanks.” Clayton entered the plush office and watched as the tall, distinguished-looking gentleman in his late forties stood to greet him.

“Madaris, how are you?” S. T. Remington said heartily, extending his hand to Clayton.

“Fine,” Clayton responded, accepting the man’s warm handshake. “And thanks for seeing me on such short notice. I hope it wasn’t a problem.”

“None whatsoever,” the elder man said, gesturing toward the chair next to his large oak desk. “You mentioned something about a job referral.”

“Yes,” Clayton said, taking the seat.

“You didn’t have to have a special meeting with me to refer someone for employment with Remington Oil. Stephen James is the manager of my Human Resources Department. He’s always looking for energetic, career-minded individuals to bring on as part of our management team.”

“Yes, but I thought it best to talk with you first. It’s only fair that you know that if your company determines the person I want to refer is suitable for employment, and decides to hire him, there may be possible repercussions.”

Remington lifted a brow. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you know John Drayton?”

“The John Drayton of Drayton Industries?” At Clayton’s nod he said, “Yes, but not personally. Why?”

Clayton told Mr. Remington about the problems Larry Morgan was having finding employment because of John Drayton. He was careful to leave out confidential information or to reveal his source for the information he was sharing. “So, as you can see, no one will hire him.”

“Is Morgan a friend of yours?”

“No, in fact, I’ve never met him and he knows nothing of me, and I prefer to keep it that way. I know of him and the problems he’s having through an acquaintance whose identify I prefer not disclosing. It’s a rather complicated story.”

Remington nodded. “You don’t know him, yet you want to recommend that we hire him?”

“I’ve checked into his employment history. It’s apparent he’s an excellent employee. The only reason he was released from his former job, and the reason he can’t find employment now is because of John Drayton.”

Remington smiled. “If Larry Morgan is as good as you say he is, then there’s no reason we can’t call him in for an interview. And if he meets all of our qualifications, we will consider him for employment with us.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, and I think it’s commendable that you’re taking such an interest in someone you really don’t know.”

Clayton smiled. “I have my reasons.”

“I’m sure you do. And don’t worry about John Drayton. If he wants to start something with Remington Oil let him. I’m just the person to finish it for him.”

Clayton laughed as he stood. He liked Remington’s grit. It reminded him of someone else he knew. The beautiful, feisty woman he was in love with. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Go ahead and be daring,
a devilish little voice droned in Syneda’s ear.

Don’t even think it,
the voice of reason shot back,
Clayton may not like it….

Syneda closed the book with a thump. Why was she beginning to care what Clayton might or might not like? Why was she remembering that he’d once said he liked the way she wore her hair?

“Sorry about running off like that,” Deborah, her hairdresser, said, coming back to her. “But Ms. Jones claimed the relaxer was stinging, and God knows she can’t afford to lose another strand of hair.”

Syneda smiled. She liked Deborah and had been coming to this hair salon for over five years. The hairstylist was good at what she did.

“Did you see a style in that book you liked? You’re long overdue for a new look,” Deborah said, working quickly and efficiently as she applied the conditioner to Syneda’s hair.

Syneda thought for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I saw a couple that I liked.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“You haven’t done anything drastic to your hair since you went from curly to straight over a year ago. How about a short cut? I think it’ll look good on you.”

Syneda frowned. “Why do you want to cut my hair? Is this one of your scissor-happy days? I saw what you did to Carla Frazier’s head.”

Deborah shrugged as she continued to work the conditioner into Syneda’s hair. “Carla got just what she asked for. She wanted her hair cut off like that. And you have to admit, she looks good with short hair. Some people wear short hair well, some do not. That’s why I’m thankful for such a thing as weaved hair.”

Syneda grinned. She could always count on Deborah to lighten her mood. Although the woman could be a chatterbox at times, she enjoyed coming to the full-service salon.

“Well, are you gonna get a cut?”

“Not this time. Let me think about it some more.”

After getting home and settling in for the night, Syneda thought back to her conversation with Deborah and her decision not to make any drastic changes to her hair. For the first time in her life, she had taken into account what a man might or might not like about her. Specifically, she had not gotten her hair cut because she had cared how Clayton would feel about it. When she’d changed from the curly look to the straight look last year, he had complimented her several times about her hair and had told her how much he’d liked it.

She frowned, not liking the way her thoughts were going. In fact, she hadn’t liked the way her thoughts had been going for quite some time. All she had to do, at anytime and at anyplace, was to close her eyes to pick out one of several memorable moments she and Clayton had shared over the past couple of months. Even now, she could clearly remember their weekend together in New Orleans, especially that first night.

Vivid memories of their room, a romantic suite, filled her thoughts. It had been large and spacious with a king-size bed. The room had been cool, supported by the air-conditioning that had provided relief from the already hot “Nawlins” afternoon. But even the air conditioner had not withstood the powerful heat that began surging to unbearable degrees once Clayton had closed the room door, locking them inside.

He had ordered room service and the food had been delicious. But it was the things that had happened after the meal that still had her nearly groaning aloud at the memory. It was when he had scooped her up into his arms and had taken her into the bedroom, making beautiful, passionate love to her.

The ringing of the phone startled Syneda so much that she jumped. A part of her became angry at the intrusion. She picked up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Hmm, I like a woman who says yes right off the bat,” a husky masculine voice said.

Syneda smiled as she stretched across her bed. “I was just thinking about you.”

Clayton smiled. “Were you? Good thoughts I hope.”

“The best.”

“Enlighten me. And be specific,” he said mildly.

Syneda closed her eyes and blushed as her mind did a sort of instant mental replay. However, this time it zeroed in on more things in detail. She could see herself, how she had been that night in New Orleans, naked, languorous, in his arms. She could feel the silk bedsheet against her bare back and the weight of his body, hard as a rock, upon hers. She could conjure up the taste of him in her mouth as he kissed her senseless.

“Syneda?”

“Hmm?” She refused to open her eyes just yet. She could visualize more that way.

“You’re moaning into the phone, baby.”

Syneda’s eyes snapped open. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you were. Did you enjoy our time together in New Orleans?”

“Oh, yes. Tremendously,” she whispered.

“How would you like to meet me again next weekend?”

Syneda felt her mouth arrange itself into a smile. “Where?”

“Atlanta.”

“Atlanta? What’s happening in Atlanta?”

“We’ll be what’s happening. How about it?”

Syneda began to tremble at the thought of being with Clayton again. It had already been two weeks since they had last been together. A part of her wanted to say yes, just name the place and the time, and I’ll be there. But then another part of her, the one that had always kept her levelheaded where men were concerned, wanted her to call time-out and take time to examine the feelings and changes slowly taking place within her.

She heaved a sigh, rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into the pillow.

“Hello? Syneda? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Well, then, what about it?”

Syneda sighed. The “I don’t need a man” part of her was tempted to tell him no, but the “I enjoy being with Clayton Madaris” part of her overruled.

“Yes, Clayton. I’ll meet you in Atlanta.”

“Celeste?” Braxter whispered.

“Hmm?” she answered, her voice sleepy.

“Do you want to spend the night?”

She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Since it’s past midnight and I’m still in your bed, I think that’s not a bad idea.”

Braxter grinned. They had just finished making love. She was everything he wanted in a woman and more. “I’m going to have to leave town for a while.”