“What?” Claire asked, “What did you realize?”

“I was so angry with Emily, because she was doing the same thing to you that I’d done. I didn’t just hate Emily. I hated myself!” He knelt before her and bowed his forehead to her knees. “I will not allow anyone to hurt you again. That includes me.”

Claire’s fingers weaved through his hair. “Tony, you were at Everwood. You heard me. I forgave Emily. And many years ago, I forgave you, too. I don’t want to be free from you. I lived almost two years believing I’d killed you. I thought that was why no one mentioned your name. During that time, I fantasized about you and cried for you. Now you’re here. I can touch you! I want my family back together. Besides, I’m still an outpatient. If you divorce me, they’ll never allow me to have custody of Nichol. If you do this, you’re not freeing me; you’re abandoning me.” Her tears were freely flowing once again.

Tony stood and squared his shoulders. “You’re right. I don’t want you to lose Nichol. We’ll start with a separation…” He explained how it would work. She and Nichol could live at the estate, and he’d stay at his apartment. He didn’t want to stop her from getting custody of their daughter, and with the help of a nanny, there shouldn’t be any legal concerns.

It took every ounce of restraint, but he did it. Tony dampened the flame and worked to set Claire free. Eventually, Claire stood, straightened her shoulders, and silently walked past him, back into the bedroom. He didn’t know what to do. His heart told him to follow her, fall at her feet, and beg for forgiveness. The pain in her eyes had been almost too much to bear. But he’d made his decision, and given his word. This was what was best for her.

Hearing his name, he turned toward the suite. Claire was speaking, “I can’t see Nichol looking like this,” she said, her tone emotionless. “I’m going to take a shower and clean up. I presume my closets are full, like Nichol’s?”

“They are,” he replied.

“Where’s the staff? I’d like something to eat.”

There was no emotion in her voice or her eyes. Perhaps, she too could dampen her flames. No, he knew she could. He’d taught her to do it, required it of her, a long time ago. He replied, “I gave them the night off. I’ll go into town and get something. By the time I get back, you should be ready.”

Claire nodded, turned, and walked away.

As he walked toward the car, he reassured himself that this was for the best. It was for her, and for his Claire, he’d do anything, even give her up.

Driving toward the Vandersols’, Tony maintained his eyes on the road before him. He couldn’t look to his right. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that Claire was the most beautiful woman in the world—he did. It was that when he returned to the estate with their food, she was stunning and took his breath away. Instead of speaking, he stood mute, watching her from the doorway and trying to remember that she deserved better. It took some time, but he did what he was supposed to do. He reined in the red hunger of desire and dampened the flames. Nevertheless, with the intoxicating scent of her perfume, he didn’t dare look her way. That hunger may have been subdued, but Tony knew too well that it was still present, white-hot coals merely covered with ash. The slightest infusion of fuel would set a raging fire ablaze. Maintaining his feigned indifference, he listened as she spoke.

“I don’t want to tell Emily and John, not yet. I don’t think they’ll understand.”

Tony nodded. “It might be better if we ease Nichol into the idea that her parents live in two separate homes.”

Claire agreed.

When they pulled onto the Vandersols’ drive, Tony noticed Claire’s hands trembling. Without thinking, he reached over and covered them with his. “It’ll be all right,” he encouraged.

“I’m scared. What if she doesn’t want us?”

“She will,” he encouraged, maintaining his forward gaze.

“I haven’t even asked: have you seen her?”

“No, pictures are all that I’ve seen.” He thought of all the pictures Courtney had sent. “I was just released yesterday, and she was never brought to me. It was probably better. A little girl shouldn’t be visiting her father at a federal prison camp.”

“Yesterday?” Claire’s eyes widened in wonder. “And you’ve accomplished all of this?”

“Like I said, I had help. I’ve been planning for my release for some time.”

With his hand still on hers, he felt her stiffen as she asked, “And our divorce? How long have you been planning that?”

Tony pulled his hand away and glared in her direction. Damn, he thought this was done. “Claire, not now. Let’s not go back there.”

“Is there someone else?”

“What?” He could scarcely believe that she’d even ask such a thing. He’d told her that there had never been anyone but her. That was true. It didn’t mean that there weren’t women with whom he’d had physical relationships. There were, but all before her. Never had anyone else owned his heart. No one but his Claire.

“Is—there—someone—else?!” She repeated louder than the first time.

This was ridiculous. “I told you that I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

“Well, you obviously don’t want me! And you’re Anthony Rawlings. You were in prison and your wife was crazy…”