Eternally Yours

“Marcus and I are no longer seeing each other,” she said slowly. “We decided it was for the best.”

“Mmm. Could it be you're also suffering from a broken heart?”

Syneda frowned. “Not hardly.”

Suddenly Clayton sat up straight. His eyes gleamed bright with an idea. Before checking out of the hotel, he had phoned his parents and asked their permission to spend a week at their time-share condo in Florida. They had given him the okay. “I have a wonderful idea,” he said.

“What?”

“My parents have a condo in Saint Augustine, Florida. It's right on the ocean. I'm leaving next Sunday and will be there for a week. Come with me.”

Syneda's brows arched in surprise. “Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? You want me to go on vacation with you?”

A wide grin broke across Clayton's face “Sure. Why not? You need a rest and I think it's a wonderful idea.”

She shook her head. “Clayton, get real. You know I can't go on vacation with you.”

“Why not?”

“For a number of reasons.”

“Name one.”

“My work. I've appealed the Jamison case.”

“So. It'll be a while before the courts review it. If you ask me, you need a vacation to deal with what you'll be up against when they do.”

“True, but I still can't go anywhere with you.”

“Why?”

Syneda refused to believe the man was so overlooking the obvious. It was rumored that no woman spent too many hours alone with Clayton Madaris and managed to keep her reputation clean. She considered herself a modern woman—and in some people's opinion she carried her fight for sexual equality too far—but she was cautious by nature in some things, although impetuous and aggressive in others. In this case, she needed to carefully weigh Clayton's invitation.

“What will people think, Madaris? Specifically, what will your family think?”

Clayton inwardly smiled. She always resorted to calling him by his last name whenever she was getting all fired up to stand her ground against him about something.

“If I remember correctly, my family has extended itself to become your family. They won't think anything of it. For Pete's sake, Syneda, they know we don't think of each other as sexual beings, and they know we aren't romantically involved.” He chuckled. “If anything, they'll wonder how we'll spend a week together without doing each other in. We're usually completely at odds over just about everything.”

Syneda laughed. “That's an understatement.”

He grinned. “We aren't compatible. You know that as well as I do. There's nothing sexual between us. We're good friends, nothing more.”

Syneda nodded in agreement. “But I wouldn't be any fun. What if you meet someone while we're there and want to get it on with them? I'll just be in the way.”

“Women will be off-limits to me that week. I'll be on vacation for rest and relaxation, nothing more.”

“Maybe you should get away by yourself.”

Last night he would have agreed with her, but now he didn't think so. He liked Syneda. She was intelligent, witty, highly spirited and fun to be around, even when she was giving him hell about something. Besides, he could tell by the tone of her voice when she had talked about the case she'd lost that she needed a vacation as much as he did.

“The beach isn't any fun when you're by yourself,” he said. “I plan to unwind and relax and have a good time. I want to just chill and do whatever I want to do, whenever I want to do it.”

“And you think you can do that with me?”

“Yep, just as long as we agree not to talk shop. For one week I don't want to be an attorney, a player or anyone's lover. I don't want any worries or problems. We both need that. I think the two of us going away together is a wonderful idea.”

Syneda still wasn't easily convinced. She gazed at the man sitting across from her, who was impeccably dressed in an expensive printed tie, Brooks Brothers' shirt, and a costly dark blue suit.

Like his two older brothers, Clayton Madaris was a good-looking man who possessed sharply defined features. She had noticed those things the first time they had met. She'd immediately taken in his dimpled smile and dark brown eyes. A short beard—something he'd grown since she had last seen him—covered his nut-brown complexion, and his neatly trimmed mustache enhanced his full lips. His broad shoulders and towering height—almost six feet two inches—made him totally masculine. And his charismatic nature was like a magnet that attracted women to him in droves. But what he had said earlier was true. He wasn't her type, and neither was she his.

In Texas, Clayton had a reputation for being a ladies' man. And according to his sisters, Traci and Kattie, he kept a huge case of condoms in his closet and used them with as much zeal and vigor as a shoemaker used leather. However, in spite of his more than active love life, she had to admit he did have a few redeeming qualities. He generously spent his free time helping others. He was an active member of Big Brothers of America, and he spent a lot of time doing such noble community services as aiding senior citizens, the homeless and underprivileged kids. He was also a wonderful and adoring uncle to his nieces and nephews.

Clayton's sigh echoed loudly in the room. “I really don't understand the problem. You and I both know that all the two of us can and ever will be is friends. I think by getting away, we'll be doing us both a favor.”

Syneda launched one objection after another, and Clayton had a reason to shoot down every one of them. “Are you sure about this, Clayton? I'd hate to be a bother.”

“You won't be. The condo has two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It'll be plenty big enough for the two of us. You can fly to Houston and from there we can take a direct flight to Florida. Just think about the fun we'll have spending an entire week on the beach of the nation's oldest city, not to mention all the historical sites we can check out while we're there. Come on, let's go for it.”

A smile touched Syneda's lips. Clayton was right, she really did need to get away for a while. And a trip to Florida sounded mighty tempting. “All right, I'll go.”

Clayton came over and pulled her into his arms and gave her a big hug. “Great! We'll have a good time together. We won't argue at all about anything. You'll see.”

Chapter 2

Clayton and Syneda argued as they boarded the plane for Florida. Clayton had fronted the expenses and flatly refused to let Syneda reimburse him.

“I can afford to pay my own way, Madaris,” Syneda said, glaring at him.

“I didn't say you couldn't. Just consider it my treat.”

“But, I'd rather—”

“Let's drop it, Syneda,” Clayton snapped.

Angry frustration swept over Syneda's features. “Fine with me. It's your money,” she replied curtly after they had taken their designated seats.

“I'm glad you finally realized that,” he said, getting in the last word.

Syneda decided not to respond. She didn't want to appear ungrateful, but she had a hang-up about a man doing anything for her. She had learned early in life not to depend on one.

After fastening her seat belt, she turned to Clayton. “What did your family say about us going away together?”

Clayton settled back in his seat. “They didn't have a thing to say.”

Syneda raised a brow. “Not anything?”

“Not anything.” He smiled. “Except for Dex.”

She lifted her head. “Dex? What did he have to say?”

Clayton chuckled. “Dex didn't say anything. He just made the sign of the cross. I guess he thinks we're going to do each other in on this trip.”

Syneda couldn't help but laugh. “Are we really that bad?”

“I guess, but we'll get along okay this trip. We did agree to be on our best behavior and not discuss any controversial topics. Remember?”

Syneda met his gaze then smiled slowly. “Well…” She dodged an answer, turning to look out of the window as the plane lifted off.

“Syneda…” Clayton said her name in a warning tone.

She turned back to him with her smile still in place. “Oh, all right. I remember, and I plan on keeping my end of our agreement. We'll get along just fine.”

Dallas, Texas

The sun was setting in the afternoon sky when the man alighted from the parked car. Instead of being dressed in a business suit, which over the years had become his usual mode of dress while out in public, he had worn only a lightweight jacket and dress slacks. With the person he was going to visit, he could always be himself.

He crossed the dusty road and climbed the grassy hill before entering the meticulously cared-for grounds. In his hand he carried two bouquets of mixed flowers.

The walk seemed to take forever as he weaved his way toward the hillside and the marked stone. He was fully aware of the tears that misted his eyes as he knelt to place the flowers next to the grave. The headstone, although worn with time, still clearly showed the name and inscription written on it.

JAN WALTERS—REST IN PEACE

A knot of pain and sorrow formed in his throat. He closed his eyes as poignant memories resurfaced. It had been exactly thirty years ago today that they had met. It had been a day that changed his life forever. It was a day that brought him here every year, after finding out about her death fifteen years ago. By that time she had been dead three years already.

His heart grew heavy when he thought about all the wasted years they could have had together. They had begun dating during their senior year of college. Then a few days after graduation, after he had left for the Air Force Academy, she had left town without telling him or anyone where she had gone.

He stood, straightening his tall frame. The woman in the marked grave would have his heart until the day he died. He also knew that he would continue to come here each year and share this special day with her. It was their day.

Tears gathered in his eyes and slowly spilled down his cheeks as he turned toward the direction where his car was parked.

Until next year.

“This view of the ocean is breathtaking, Clayton,” Syneda said, leaning against the railing. From the balcony she watched the blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean ripple gently toward the shoreline of St. Augustine Beach.

“It sure is,” Clayton replied, coming to join her. He handed her a glass of wine. “Compliments of the management. They also left some entertainment brochures, as well as a visitors' guidebook to all the places to check out while we're here.”

Syneda accepted the glass.

“Thanks.” She looked out toward the ocean again. “I just can't believe all of this.”

“All of what?” Clayton asked, sitting down in a patio chair.

“All of this! The ocean view, the size of this condo, the list of activities lined up for us, this city's history. Everything! And don't you dare sit there and pretend not to be moved by all of it. This place is wonderful, and I plan on enjoying myself immensely the next seven days. Thanks again for inviting me.”

“You're welcome.” He took a sip of his wine. “I told you what Dex's reaction was to us vacationing together. What did Lorren have to say about it?”

Syneda set her glass on a small table and reclined in a nearby lounger. “At first she didn't believe it. She couldn't imagine the two of us being anywhere together for too long without arguing about something. But after I explained we agreed to stay away from controversial issues, she thought it was a great idea. According to her, no one will think twice about us going away together. She said everyone knows the differences in our personalities and philosophies make the two of us ever getting it on impossible.”

“See there. What did I tell you? You were worrying for nothing.”

“Maybe, but a girl has to know when to safeguard her reputation.” She grinned.

Clayton frowned. “You don't think your reputation is safe with me?”

Syneda smiled. “Let's put it this way, Clayton. Everyone knows about your womanizing lifestyle.”

“Really? And what exactly do you know?”

Syneda gave him a rueful smile. “For starters, thanks to your sisters, I know all about that case of condoms in your closet. Do you deny it?”

He chuckled, thinking he needed to have a talk with his sisters for getting into his business. “No. I don't deny it. It's better to be safe than sorry.”

“Have you ever given any thought to just doing without?”

He gave her a slow grin. “I've been doing without for a couple of months, and I don't like it too much.”

She laughed. “Poor baby. What's the matter? The women are finally resisting that Clayton Madaris charm?”

Clayton laughed. “No, that's not it. Would you believe for the past couple of months, I've had a totally insane idea running through my head.”

“What sort of insane idea?”

“I've been thinking that maybe it's time for me to stop playing around and get serious about someone.”

Syneda almost choked on her wine. “You gotta be kiddin'. I can't imagine you ever getting serious about any woman.”

Clayton grinned at the startled expression on her face. “Neither can I, and that's the reason I desperately needed a vacation. I needed to get away to rid my mind of such foolish thoughts. I must be going crazy to even consider such a thing.”

“I totally agree.”

He smiled. “I'm glad someone does. However, my family would disagree with you. They think it's past time for me to settle down.”

Syneda shook her head. “The reason I agree with you is because I understand completely. Falling in love isn't for everyone. I know it's definitely not for me.”

Clayton raised a brow. “Really? I thought most women dreamed of their wedding day.”

“Well, I'm not like most women. I have no intention of ever falling in love,” Syneda said matter-of-factly. She stared at him, eyes bright with curiosity. “What has held you back from ever getting serious with a woman?”

“Fear.”

“Fear? Fear of what?”

“Fear of becoming bored with the relationship. Because of my parents' rather close relationship, marriage to me means ‘forever after' and ‘till death do us part.' The thought of spending the rest of my life with the same woman is enough to give me nightmares. I'd be afraid of eventually becoming bored with her and feeling trapped. For Pete's sake, Syneda, forever after is a hell of a long time. Any kind of routine would drive me nuts.”

He then smiled. “I enjoy spontaneity, creativity and excitement. I don't want to be tied to a woman who would eventually have me settled into a dull life.”

He lifted his dark brow. “What about you? What's your hang-up about falling in love?”

Syneda took a long, deep breath before answering. She met his inquiring gaze. “As far as I'm concerned, falling in love means becoming dependent on that person for your happiness. I did that once and will never do it again.”

She stood. “I think I'll go unpack and turn in early. Our flight wore me out. What would you like to do tomorrow?”

Clayton set his glass on the table next to hers and also stood. “How about if we go on one of those sightseeing tours around town.”

“That sounds like fun. Well, good night, Clayton. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Syneda.”

Clayton watched as she walked off through the living room and toward the bedroom she had chosen to use. He couldn't help wondering about the man who had evidently hurt Syneda to make her feel the way she felt about falling in love.

Leaning against the balcony Clayton took his first sip of morning coffee and then released a satisfied sigh. “Ahh, good stuff,” he commented as he looked out at the ocean to enjoy the early-morning sunrise. He had gotten up before dawn to make coffee, and had tried to be quiet while moving around in the kitchen. He hadn't wanted to awaken Syneda.

Rest, unwind a bit, have some fun and clear his overworked mind were the only things on his agenda this week. He turned and was about to go back inside when his gaze caught sight of a lone figure walking along the beach. The first thing he thought was that the woman, dressed in running shorts and a halter top, probably had the best body he'd ever seen. He couldn't make out her face because she was wearing a big straw hat and sunglasses, but he suspected any woman with a body like that had to have a terrific face to go along with it.

He stood transfixed, mesmerized, as she strolled along the beach apparently looking for seashells. A fragment of something teased at his consciousness. Had he met her before somewhere? There was something about her walk that was familiar to him for some reason.

He momentarily closed his eyes thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. There was no way he could ever have met this woman and not remember it. He reopened his eyes in time to watch her lean down to pick up a seashell and put it in the basket she was carrying. From his position high on the balcony, he could see the shorts she was wearing, which were already cut close to her hip bone, had ridden higher and showed a very good-looking backside.

Clayton drummed his fingers against the railing. Perspiration began forming on his forehead. For crying out loud, he was on vacation to unwind and just looking at the woman had him all wound up. He wiped his forehead thinking this wasn't good. Women were supposed to be off limits to him this week.

He was just about to leave when the woman turned and looked up in his direction and waved. He frowned, not understanding the friendly gesture. He had not known she had seen him watching her and had definitely not expected her to acknowledge it. Not knowing what else to do, he waved back.

Only after she'd taken off her sunglasses and removed the big straw hat from her head did he recognize her.

The woman was Syneda.

Clayton turned and whispered in Syneda's ear. “Our tour guide has the hots for you. He's been checking you out ever since we boarded this train.”

Syneda ungraciously shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth, followed by a big gulp of cola before responding. “You're imagining things.”

“No, I'm not. I know when a man is interested in a woman.”

Syneda giggled. “I guess you would, being an expert in womanizing and all.”

Clayton frowned. “It's not funny, Syneda.”

“Yes, it is. Men have been girl watching for ages. Will you stop being so uptight? What's wrong with you?”

Clayton took a deep breath. He was asking himself that same question. It had all begun that morning when he had seen her on the beach. Then later, things had gotten worse when they had decided to take an early-morning swim before breakfast. She had joined him by the pool wearing the sexiest bikini he had ever seen. He had always thought she had a great pair of legs, and the bathing suit only made how great they were more obvious. His mouth, along with every male's around poolside, had watered as they gazed at the sight of her delectable breasts swelling out of her bikini top and her well-rounded hips filling the bikini bottom. For one brief moment he'd experienced the oddest sensation—a heat flowing through his body and settling down toward his midsection. He had also felt something else, too: possessiveness. He hadn't liked the idea of the other men looking at her. Then he'd shaken off the feeling, but now it was coming back. And he knew at that moment, without a doubt, he was in serious trouble.

“Clayton?”

Unwilling to consider just what was happening to him, he took a deep breath and met Syneda's bemused gaze. “What?”

“I asked what's wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me,” he replied, placing a hand in the small of her back and leading her toward the nation's oldest jail. “By the way. Where's the rest of your outfit?”

Syneda took a quick look at herself. She was wearing a printed backless skort set. The sides were held together in a few places by snaps. A wide-brimmed straw hat whose band matched her outfit covered her head. “What's wrong with my outfit?”

Clayton raised his eyes heavenward. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, and from the cut of the garment one would question if she was wearing underwear, as well. He was tempted to ask her but thought better of doing so. “There's not much to it.”

Syneda laughed as she eyed Clayton from under her hat. “That's the idea, Clayton. This is Florida. It gets too hot for a lot of clothes. The fewer the better.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way,” Clayton replied drily.

Syneda raised a brow. “Why?”

“I'm going to be spending all of my time keeping the men around here in line.”

The guide led them back to the sightseeing train and then on to the next stop. After touring the Fountain of Youth, Zorayda's Castle and the Lightner Museum, they caught another bus to have lunch in a popular restaurant in the Lincolnville Historical District.

Lincolnville constituted the heart of the city's black community. It was a large residential neighborhood whose occupants could trace their ancestors' origins to the city's sixteenth-century founding.

After lunch they took a carriage ride through the Colonial Historical District before doing some extensive walking while touring the old homes along George Street.

It was midafternoon when they decided to call it a day. Clayton draped his arm across Syneda's shoulder as they walked from the bus stop in front of the condos.

At the door Syneda turned to face him. “I can't believe all the sights we took in today. There is so much to do and see here. And I can't believe how architecturally grand the buildings are. They were simply amazing.”

“Yeah, amazing,” Clayton replied, feigning interest as he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. The only thing that had held his attention all day was her and that outfit she had on. He had been ever mindful of more than a few male stares sent her way. She hadn't noticed but he sure had.

Syneda dropped her purse onto the entry table. “Where do you want to go for dinner, Clayton?”

“I'll let you decide. The only thing I want to do right now is rest my poor aching feet.”

Syneda laughed. “Aren't you used to walking?”

“No.”

“How do you stay in such good shape?” she asked as she eyed his masculine body outlined in the shorts and top he wore. He was in great physical shape. “Surely all those nights spent in bed with women didn't do it,” she teased.

Clayton gave her a wan smile. “I keep in shape in a lot of ways. I work out at least twice a week at the gym, and I play basketball with the guys every chance I get.”

“Oh, I see.” She looked down at her watch. “It's four now. How about if we go out for dinner around seven. That will give you a couple hours to rest up.”

“That sounds good to me. What will you be doing while I'm resting up?”

“I think I'll go to the beach and build a sandcastle. The beaches around here have the whitest and silkiest sand I've ever seen.”

Clayton frowned. “What will you wear?”

“Where?”

“To the beach.”

“Clayton, that's a silly question. I'll be wearing a bathing suit.”

“The one you had on this morning?”

“No, not that one,” Syneda replied, turning toward the direction of her bedroom. “But it's one similar to it. Why?”

“Wait up. I think I'll build that sandcastle with you.”

Syneda turned around and gave him a surprised look. “I thought you were tired.”

“I've suddenly found myself with a new burst of energy.”

Later that evening Clayton and Syneda entered a restaurant that the condo's management had recommended. It was a place on Anastasia Island known for fresh seafood and tropical drinks. After enjoying a feast of assorted seafoods, they left the restaurant section of the establishment to enter its lounge. They were led by a waiter to an empty table in the back that had a wonderful view of the ocean.

After the waiter departed with their drink orders, Clayton rested back in his chair. “I'm curious as to where you buy your clothes.”