Eternally Yours

“Thanks to you, she has agreed to reveal the depth of her husband's cruelty. I believe once the prosecuting attorney reviews her case, the charges will be dropped. It was clearly a case of self-defense.”

“And Dr. Armstrong?”

“His condition has changed from critical to stable. He'll live. However, he'll be getting quite a bit of bad publicity once the media gets ahold of what he's put his wife through.”

“I'm just glad Mrs. Armstrong has finally realized she has other recourses than remaining in a situation that has caused her to be painfully abused. No one should have to suffer the physical and emotional batterings she's gone through.”

Thomas nodded in agreement. He continued to stare at her. “I hope he's what you want, Syneda. You deserve to be happy,” he said, switching back to their earlier conversation.

Syneda's thoughts immediately fell on Clayton. She had no doubt he would certainly rock her world a bit. “I believe he is, and thanks, you've been a good friend.”

Thomas looked at her, his eyes compelling. “I wanted to be more.”

“I know, but it wouldn't have worked out between us.”

“Because of our ages?”

Syneda shook her head. Although he was forty-three to her twenty-eight, their ages had never been an issue with her. “No, it wasn't that. I'm just not ready for what you want. I doubt if I ever will be. The love and marriage scene aren't for me.”

He stood and held out his hand to her. “If you ever need a friend, I'm here for you.”

Syneda accepted his hand and the offer of friendship that came with it. “Thanks, Thomas. I'll remember that.”

When Syneda returned to her office from lunch, Joanna looked up from her desk. Her blue eyes were dazzling with merriment. “There was a delivery for you while you were out.”

“Oh?” Syneda asked, pushing open the door to her office. The sight awaiting her was breathtaking. Four huge vases filled with roses sat in the middle of her desk. Speechless, she entered her office. The rose fragrance permeated the room.

“They're beautiful, aren't they?” Joanna asked, gazing at the four dozen peach-colored roses. “I wonder who sent them.”

Quickly recovering from her initial shock, Syneda took in a deep breath. She hoped they weren't from Marcus.

“I placed the card on your desk next to your calendar.”

“Thanks, Joanna. Please let Mr. Dickerson know I've returned, and I'm free to go over the Franklin case now.”

Recognizing a dismissal, Joanna nodded and closed the door behind her.

Syneda walked over to her desk, picked up the envelope and pulled out the card. Her hand shook when she read the message inside. She couldn't help the smile that touched her lips nor could she prevent her heartbeat from quickening.

The card read: “A dozen roses for each day we spent together. Saint Augustine wasn't the same without you.” It was signed “Clayton.”

“Clayton.” Syneda whispered the name as she leaned against the corner of her desk to slow down her breathing. Marcus hadn't sent the flowers as she had assumed. They had come from Clayton.

Nervously thumbing through the personal directory on her desk she located the numbers of her search. She picked up the phone and began dialing.

“Clayton Madaris's office.”

“Yes, may I speak with Mr. Madaris, please?”

The woman's response was pleasant and businesslike. “I'm sorry but Mr. Madaris is unavailable. Would you like to leave a message?”

“Yes, please tell him Syneda Walters called.”

“Oh, Ms. Walters. Mr. Madaris left instructions to put you through should you call. Please hold for a minute.”

The secretary clicked off the line and Syneda nervously toyed with the telephone cord while waiting for Clayton to come to the phone.

“Syneda?” Clayton asked coming on the line.

Tremors raced through Syneda at the deep masculine sound of her name from Clayton's lips. Her hands on the telephone tightened as blood coursed hotly through her veins. Even over the telephone, he was reaching out to her and the sensations were like a soft caress. She tried to sound natural when she replied. “Yes, Clayton. The flowers are beautiful. You shouldn't have.”

“I couldn't help myself,” he said huskily. “I meant what I said on the card. I want to see you, Syneda. Soon. This weekend. Is that possible?”

Syneda took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“How about if I fly in on Friday afternoon?”

A lump formed in Syneda's throat. The silkiness of his suggestion touched her everywhere. “I'd like that.”

There was a slight pause before he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

Another pause. “Do you want to go out to dinner when I get there?” he asked.

“If you'd like. Or we can have something delivered. Let's decide when you get here.”

“Okay. I'll see you on Friday.”

“Until then, Clayton.”

“Yes, until then.”

Clayton hung up the phone and glanced down at the legal brief he'd been working on before Syneda's call. He pushed it aside as he sat back in his chair.

He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until the plans had been finalized for his visit to see her. He had been in knots all week at the thought that after returning to New York, she would have had second thoughts about continuing what they had started in Saint Augustine.

He shifted uneasily in his chair, wondering what had actually happened to bring him to such a state over a woman. There had never been a time when a woman had consumed his every thought. There were too many females out there to get hung up on just one. Women had a way of making the most sensible man act foolish. So what in the world was happening to him?

After Justin and Lorren had left to return to Texas, he had tried resting, relaxing and enjoying his time alone. But he hadn't been able to do any of those things. Instead he had thought of Syneda. He had spent an uncomfortable amount of time thinking about her and had begun feeling resentful. Resentful that any woman's overpowering allure could bring forth such a need in him.

So he had tried not to think about needing her and wanting her. He had even made up his mind not to contact her when he returned to Texas from Florida. But something had happened to him that he hadn't counted on, something that had gone beyond any rational thought. It was something that—after taking more showers than he could count—still had him mystified until he had finally faced the truth. Syneda had been able to do something no other woman had done. She had somehow exposed deep feelings within him.