HIS By Design -Coveting Claire (5 page)

Still, he’d surprised the hell out of himself
when he acted instinctively and spanked her. When he’d turned her
around, it was only with the intention of putting her in the car,
but the sexual tension along with her naughtiness - added to the
appealing target of her gorgeous ass -were too much of a temptation
to resist. Before he knew it, he’d surrendered to both his erotic
and disciplinary needs. Well aware that he was the one who might
have pushed his luck, he was both relieved and aroused when there
was no mistaking the desire in the huskiness of her voice. Or the
other tell-tale indicators that the spanking turned her on, while
still serving its disciplinary purpose. Her response revealing yet
another area where they shared compatibility.

His guardedness over the years had suppressed
his disciplinary and dominant nature along with his other intense
emotions, but tonight the sexual tension between them was too hot.
He’d spent the last few weeks debating over what course of action
he should take when she arrived. Holding back on his feelings was
one thing when she was oblivious to them and to his sexuality. When
she started getting all hot and bothered around him it was just too
alluring to resist. Making love to her that night had started to
seem inevitable.

Until she confessed her feelings about her
ex-lover.

He knew then he had to back off. She was too
vulnerable. She needed a friend not a lover. He wasn’t about to
betray a trust that they’d built over six years for one night she
might hold against him.  He hadn’t kept hold of his emotions
for all this time just to fail in a moment of weakness brought on,
no doubt, by the fierce jealousy her confidences aroused. Nor was
he willing to risk his feelings on what might simply be a casual
night of ‘friends with benefits’ for her. He never could do casual
sex, well.  Probably because his first experience had been so
moving.  

Susanna hadn't seemed to mind his
inexperience, only surprised that she was his first.  The
reasons for his inexperience were varied.  He put himself
through college, parking cars, waiting tables. He hadn't had much
time for a social life.  The girls he associated with didn't
interest him a whole lot, although there were one or two he might
have liked to see more of.  But he had stayed almost
singularly free from feminine attractions, until the day Susanna
Ainsley walked into the famous designing house where he was
particularly lucky to find a position.

Sitting sketching at one of the drafting
tables, he’d looked up.  She was discussing with the head
designer and he saw his superior indicate in his direction.
 Susanna turned, giving him a better view of her.  He
didn't recognize her as the star of many films, only as the woman
whom he knew, instinctively, would change his life.  The two
women covered the distance leisurely, but he had eyes only for
Susanna, awed by the elegance and grace with which she moved.
 She was so tiny and yet she had an overpowering presence.

The other woman made the introductions. He
only nodded, unable yet to meet her eyes, too entranced to remember
to stand. Susanna moved behind him, leaning over to view the
preparatory sketch he was working on.  Through the material of
his shirt, he felt her breasts brush against his back. Her warm
breath above his nape grew hot like his own. She touched his cheek
softly and when he turned to look at her what he saw in her eyes
filled him with wonder.

As Claire stated, they were married in less
than a month.  Susanna ignoring her friends warnings, Andrea's
the most voluble, saying life was too short to worry about such
things.  And she’d been right.  But then, she’d known
something he hadn't.  She was forty-nine when she died,
forty-eight when she began to fade away in front of his eyes.

And now there was Claire.

She was so different from Susanna and he’d
come to love her differently as well.  He had a quick searing
attraction at their first meeting, but apart from that, he thought
of her as just a kid. When she turned out not to be the giggling
teenager he expected when Andrea practically bullied him into
escorting her to the charity ball, he was glad at that time to know
someone he could take as an uncomplicated, undemanding escort to
the functions his business required he attend.

When their acquaintance grew into friendship,
it never occurred to him that he might come to be anything more
than fond of her.  He was never quite sure when his feelings
began to change.  It must have happened subconsciously, before
the day she came running out of the water to flop beside him on the
beach in front of his house. Lying down, she tossed away her long
mane of hair, handed him some suntan lotion and asked him to put it
on her back.  Then, without so much as a trace of
self-consciousness or coquetry, she un-hooked the back of her
bikini to avoid strap marks. The sexuality of the moment thrust him
back three years to when he took the stairs two at a time to scold
a young girl and was stopped in his tracks by the primal beauty of
a virgin goddess with cascading, golden locks who was all woman.
The woman had retreated into the blushes of the girl who became his
friend. Only now, she was emerging full force. He was thankful she
kept her eyes closed throughout the procedure and afterwards he
went for a swim to counteract the effect she was having on him. At
the time, he told himself it was simply a natural reaction to a
beautiful woman and didn't mean anything other than Claire had
matured. But as weeks passed, he knew it was more than that. He was
in love with her.

It wasn't the intense emotion Susanna had
elicited, but it was love.

After a number of months, the strain of
guarding his emotions began to tell. For once, Andrea's frankness
was welcome. Alone with her among the crowds who frequented her
parties, she was congratulating him on a particularly good review
of his latest collection.  He, on the other hand, was watching
Claire who was in a group further away.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?"

He didn't even bother to pretend.  "Is
it so obvious?"

"To me, yes.  Others, I don't know, but
certainly not to her and that’s all you care about."

She broke off to greet some latecomers and
after they moved away, asked him.  "Why don't you want her to
know?"

He took a sip of his drink while he thought
of a suitable excuse.  "She's too young."

Andrea was not convinced.  "She's a year
older than you were when you married Susanna."

He didn't answer.  He wasn't prepared to
admit his true reasons even to himself.  

Andrea pursed her lips then, surprisingly,
changed the subject. "I was in New York, last week."

"Oh, how was it?"

"Pleasant.  I met John Banks.  Do
you remember him?"

"Yes. He's a few years older than me, but we
went to college together."

Andrea took a sip of her drink, and Julian
got the distinct impression there was more to this than discussing
mutual acquaintances. "He's looking for a junior addition to his
staff at
Choices
.  Someone mentioned Claire's name. He
asked my opinion."

Julian breathed deeply. 
Choices
was the latest success story in lifestyle magazines. It was the
dream of every young feature writer, Claire included, to be
recruited by them.  He tried to keep his voice
unconcerned.  "What did you tell him?"

"That I was unfamiliar with her professional
capabilities, but knew her in other respects to be a pleasant and
capable young woman.  He said he would contact her."

Julian swallowed and put his half-empty glass
down. Suddenly it didn't taste very good.  "I suppose it would
be as good a solution as any."

"You'd let her go?"

"I hardly have much say in the matter."

Andrea abandoned her unusual attempts at
subtly and returned to her normal outspokenness, although she kept
her voice low. "I suppose you imagine you're being gallant.
 Well you're not.  Look at her.  At the risk of
sounding crude, she's ripe for the plucking.  If you don't
take her some other man will."

The idea of Claire with another man was so
unwelcome, Julian did something rare for him. He was rude. 
"Shut up and mind your own business, Andrea."

She was equally rude.  "You're a
fool!"

Remembering, over three years later, and in
the light of Claire's confidences, he couldn't help but agree with
her. Leaving the deck, he walked through the house to his bedroom.
 Jutting out past the living room, it possessed a west-facing
window allowing a view of the ocean.  Despite the king-size
bed there was still a great deal of room, more than enough for two
people to move around.  The rest of the south wall where he’d
entered was taken up by a roomy, double closet that, despite his
large wardrobe, his clothes did not begin to fill. In each adjacent
wall, there was a door.

He entered the one closest to him and looked
around the room. It was filled with various, personal articles
telling of its masculine occupant. The other bathroom was empty.
 Despite the fact that it was clean, he could detect a faint
musty smell. The smell of disuse.  He opened the window and
re-entered the main room.  Lying down on one side of the bed,
he folded his arms, resting them behind his head. He looked across
at the empty space beside him and thought of Claire asleep in the
next room.

Rising, he walked back out to the deck and
stood listening to the ocean, a vague feeling of self-recrimination
washing over him.  He resented the intensity of his own
nature. His tendency for all or nothing abandon. An intensity he’d
spent seven years learning to repress. His emotions were no longer
as intense or as passionate as those that devastated him at
Susanna’s loss. Every day since her death, he’d practiced
restraint. He’d distanced himself from emotion - schooled his
features and habits to provide a guard against such
vulnerability.

Claire in her innocence and childlike nature
had fooled him, managed to sneak in under his guard. But he knew
better now. Now, he could temper his feelings, be in command. Only
allow a manageable depth of quiet, safe emotion. A carefully
planned design. He smiled, satisfied with his reasoning. In the
very early hours of the morning, it dawned on Julian that fate had
dealt him a second chance. Only this time, he’d play his hand
differently.

Claire stirred and then woke, uncertain
why.  The clock on the bedside table said eight-fifteen, but
she knew it wasn’t its alarm that wakened her.  A night owl,
she always found it difficult to wake up and on Saturdays indulged
herself by sleeping late.  So what was different about this
Saturday?  Turning from the clock, she discovered the culprit
as it streamed through the window, causing her to cover her
eyes.

Cursing Julian's predilection for sunlight
that resulted in a total disregard for the intended function of
blinds, she threw off the covers and headed for the window. Fully
intending to let down the blind and return to bed, she was stopped
by the sight that greeted her through the window.  Maybe
Julian’s respect for sunlight wasn't so eccentric.  It was the
warm sunshine, combined with the excellent irrigation system
supplied to California via the Columbia River Dam that allowed the
glorious garden in front of her to flourish practically year
round.

Petunias of almost every shade imaginable
coupled with nasturtiums growing in the shaded areas, allowing
their colors to reach a greater vividness than in the sun.
 Beautiful, but poisonous oleander shrubs grew beside
jacarandas not yet in full bloom.  Opening the window, she
inhaled the delightful scent of lilacs, their purple and white
flowers perfect foils for the vibrant red and orange of the
bougainvillea climbing the trellised garden seats that flanked
either side of the window.

Winter indeed!

The direction of her thoughts reminded Claire
she wanted to go for a swim and all thoughts of returning to bed
left her.  Julian might think her crazy to venture into the
cold waters at this time of year, but they wouldn't be much colder
than the Atlantic of New England in summer and the idea of an early
morning swim appealed to her.

Searching her suitcase, she found her bikini.
 Towel in hand, she moved quietly through the house, not
wishing to disturb Julian's sleep.  Reaching the shore, she
lay down allowing the waves to wash over her, acclimatizing her to
the temperature of the water.

 Phew, it was certainly refreshing.

As her body temperature lowered, she ran
diving into the waves then stood allowing them to batter her
around.  Catching one large wave, she rode it back to shore.
Lying face down she let the calming effect of the ocean wash over
her.  She’d missed the surf.  She contemplated future fun
with a boogie board, maybe she’d even take up surfing again.

"Come in and have some coffee before you turn
blue."

Julian's voice startled her and she
discovered she was becoming chilled.  Draping the towel around
her, she followed his figure across the beach through the glass
doors leading into the kitchen from the deck.  The mug felt
warm to her cold hands and she took a sip before appraising her
benefactor.

He was dressed casually in a red,
open-necked, knit shirt and jeans that seemed molded to his lower
half.  Assessing him, she tried to decide whether she liked
him better dressed this way or in the more formal manner of the
night before.  Both had their merits.

 This way she’d a better view of his
attractions.  The form-fitting shirt showed off the muscles of
his well-developed upper body; no doubt from playing tennis and
racquetball and, of course, swimming.  She’d participated in
those sports with him often in the past and had come a cropper
against his powerful backhand many times.  Idly, she wondered
who partnered him now, hoping it was another man.