To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has done, but at what he aspires to do.

—Kahlil Gibran

Claire was absolutely lovely as she stepped from the master bath. Her green dress accentuated her eyes, and ringlets of hair brushed her proud neck. “You are beautiful, my dear.”

She exhaled and placed her hand in the bend of Tony’s elbow. “Let’s get this over with.”

He stilled their steps. “Claire, perhaps a review is in order. It has been a while.” Her eyes narrowed, but he continued, “I expect you to follow my rules this evening. If you’re to assure SiJo’s recovery from their current problem, you’ll remember that as my companion, I expect you to do as I say and that public failure is not an option. If you have something to say, get it out now. Once we are at that gala, any misconstrued comment could have far-reaching consequences.”

The fire that had been smoldering blazed with new intensity. She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I assure you that I remember your rules, but if you want me to get it out, then here it is. You’re a heartless bastard. This is blackmail and I’m angry at myself for letting this happen.”

He laughed. “There, now we can proceed.”

Just before they entered the golden elevator, Tony lowered his lips to Claire’s ear. Inhaling her perfume and sweet scent, he whispered, “You needn’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have stopped this if you’d tried. Let this heartless bastard take all the blame.” The pools of emerald mellowed beneath his amused gaze. Claire needed to hear—to know—that she couldn’t have stopped it. He grinned, knowing that he could’ve eased her mind more by letting her know that the problem at SiJo was now fixed and no damage had occurred. Of course, he didn’t. That tidbit of information could wait.

Except for a private whisper now and then, Claire performed beautifully. Murmurs and gasps at the news of their reunification rippled throughout the ballroom like waves from a rock shattering the glassy surface of her lake. She smiled and spoke with confidence. Even when Tony spent a few extra minutes with Derek Burke, Claire stayed steadfast. Since Claire was supposed to have been brought to him before she hand a chance to mingle, Tony wasn’t happy to learn that she’d already met the Cunninghams; however, her warning was not only helpful, but refreshing.

It wasn’t until after his keynote speech that Tony saw what he didn’t know he’d sought. It was a look, a stare, something in Claire’s expression. Tony couldn’t describe it, yet it was there. He hadn’t seen it in years, but he recognized it immediately. As he resumed his seat, he reached for Claire’s hand and gently lifted it from her lap. This time, his touch wasn’t meant as a warning; instead, he intended affection as he lowered his head and brushed her knuckles with a soft sweep of his lips, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on hers. Claire’s cheeks blushed as her smile broadened.

Quietly, she whispered, “Very nice speech, Mr. Rawlings.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ms. Nichols, you’re mighty remarkable yourself.”

Someone else was now speaking from the podium; their voices were a faint whisper against the sound from the nearby speaker. Claire raised her eyebrows and asked, “Mighty?”

It was a word Nathaniel had used, reserved for only the truly special people in his life. Perhaps that was what Tony was missing from his envelope. No, she hadn’t been missing, only misplaced, and now she was with him. Although he’d never used that word before, it felt right. Gently squeezing her hand, he repeated, “Mighty.”

They both smiled and turned to listen to the next orator, a woman from the Center for Learning Disabilities who was thanking the audience for their support. When the final speaker concluded, the emcee from earlier came to the podium and announced, “Ladies and gentleman, the orchestra will be in place soon. If everyone could please make their way out to the atrium, dancing will commence in less than half an hour.”

“Are we staying for dancing?” Claire asked quietly.

His eyebrows rose. “Do you want to dance?”

“No, I really don’t; I’m tired, and I’d like to go home. If I could have my phone, I’ll call for the SiJo car.”

Tony leaned back against his chair. He wasn’t ready for this evening to end. He sure as hell didn’t want to send her back to Palo Alto—to him. Roach had been keeping tabs on Baldwin, and Tony knew from a series of text messages that Baldwin had started to drive toward San Francisco but turned around and was now at his condominium in Palo Alto. Although Tony wasn’t sure what made Baldwin turn around; he smugly assumed it was the press release.

Claire leaned in close—too close. Her smile was too large, as threatening tears perched precariously on her lower lids. With a faint crack in her voice, she asked, “Have I done everything you asked?”

“Yes,” Tony replied honestly. “But I want more.”

“Please, I’m tired.”

He broadened his grin. “Then perhaps you should go to bed.”

Though her expression remained flawless to a bystander, Tony saw the recognition of his innuendo in her green eyes. “I’m not agreeing to sleep with you.”

“Sleeping, my dear, was not what I had in mind.”

After a moment of collection, she replied. “I will go upstairs with you; I will complete this scenario; however, I will not have sex with you.”

“Why do you fight it?” Pushing her in public was not his plan. Truthfully, neither was sex, although he wasn’t opposed to changing his plans.