have. Your marriage to Scott was the pits.”
“True, but it's the opposite with Justin. That just goes to show miracles can happen.”
“But I don't want a miracle in my life, Lorren, nor do I need one. All I want out of life is happiness, namely mine. I don't want to be responsible for anyone else's. Nor do I want a man to become my other half. I just want to become my entire whole self, and I think I'll start with an affair.”
Lorren sighed. “But why with Clayton?”
“Why not with Clayton? I like him, I trust him and I've recently discovered I'm attracted to him. Isn't that enough?”
“What do you think, Syneda? Will affairs be all you'll ever want?”
“Possibly.”
“I don't believe this! You sound just like Clayton. His attitude on life seems to have rubbed off on you. I ought to say that the two of you deserve each other, but I can't. I want you to want more.”
“But I can't allow myself to want more. Every time I feel myself wanting more, I remember Mama and how she died believing in a man who didn't come through for her or for me,” Syneda replied quietly.
Lorren sighed deeply. She was among the few people who knew the situation regarding Syneda and her father. “All men aren't the same. For example, there's no comparison between Justin and Scott. One day you'll meet someone who's your soul mate, Syneda. Just like Adam was to Eve, like Ruby Dee was to Ozzie Davis, like—”
“Beauty was to the Beast?” Syneda cut in.
Lorren laughed. “Yes, just like Beauty was to the Beast. And like Prince Charming was to Cinderella, like—”
“I get the picture, Lorren.”
“I hope you do, Syneda. I honestly hope you do.”
Clayton glanced at his watch for perhaps the one hundredth time since he had awakened that morning to find Syneda gone. It was now four o'clock. Where were they? What he had told Justin earlier that day had been the truth. He could wring Lorren's neck.
He stood on the terrace drinking a glass of wine and staring moodily at the ocean. What would Syneda's attitude be toward him when she saw him again? Would she regret what had happened between them last night? Had Lorren convinced her she was making a mistake getting involved with him?
The sound of the doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Evidently Justin had returned. He had left a few hours ago to play a game of tennis with another physician he had met at lunch.
Leaving the terrace, he went to open the door.
“Telegram for Syneda Walters.”
Clayton stared at the young man. “She's not here but I'll make sure she receives it,” he said, taking the telegram and signing for it. He went into his pocket and handed the guy a bill that brought a bright smile to his face.
“Thank you, sir!”
Clayton was staring blankly at the sealed telegram when the door opened again a few moments later. Lorren and Syneda walked in carrying a number of packages.
Clayton's eyes immediately met Syneda's. He was stunned by the rush of pleasure surging through him at the sight of her. His eyes wandered over her face for a long moment, and the slender hands holding the packages she placed on the sofa. She was wearing a printed romper and looked absolutely fantastic. The rare beauty of her sea-green eyes touched him. Her beauty was exquisite and overwhelming.
There was a noticeable pause in the room before Lorren cleared her throat. She couldn't help but pick up on the sexual magnetism radiating between Clayton and Syneda. At the moment, she wasn't quite sure which of the two individuals most needed her sympathy. “Hi, Clayton. Where's Justin?”
Clayton swallowed and forced his gaze from Syneda to his sister-in-law. All thoughts of wringing her neck were temporarily forgotten. “He's playing tennis with another doctor he met at lunch.”
He then turned his sharp and assessing gaze back to Syneda. “How did shopping go?”
“It was okay,” Syneda answered, almost unable to breathe. Clayton looked wonderful dressed in a pair of cutoff jeans and a tank top. He definitely had a monopoly on virility, she thought. His arresting good looks totally captivated her.
“I almost forgot. This came for you a few minutes ago,” Clayton said.
Syneda forced her eyes from his to the item he was handing her. “A telegram?”
She tore into it and read it quickly. Regretful eyes met Clayton's. “It's from my firm. Something has come up and I have to get back to New York immediately.”
“Why?” Clayton and Lorren exclaimed simultaneously.
“What's wrong?” Lorren asked as she threw her packages down next to Syneda's and gave her friend her absolute attention.
“A few weeks ago I was handling a case involving an abused wife. However, she wouldn't file for a divorce from her husband.”
“Yes, I remember you mentioning it,” Clayton replied, taking a step closer.
“She's been arrested.”
“Why?”
“For shooting her husband. He's in critical condition.”
“I don't understand,” Lorren stated bemusedly. “Why would she be arrested? It was probably a case of self-defense.”
“That has to be proven in a court of law,” Clayton replied to Lorren's statement, taking the position of the attorney that he was.
“What does any of this have to do with you, Syneda?” he asked, his mouth set in a taut frown. “You're not a defense attorney.”
“I know, but the woman asked for me and refuses to talk with anyone else. The firm has requested that I come back to New York as soon as possible,” Syneda replied.
“But you're on vacation. Surely there's someone else who can help the woman until you return next week.”
“Unfortunately there isn't. She feels comfortable with me. I have to go back.” Syneda turned to Lorren. “Could you call the airlines for me and book me on the next available flight back to New York? There's a phone in the main office, which is located next to the tennis courts. I need to pack.”
“Sure,” Lorren replied and left immediately.
“I'll go back with you.”
“That's not necessary, Clayton. You shouldn't ruin the rest of your vacation just because of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to begin packing.”
Syneda went into her bedroom, leaving a disgusted Clayton standing in the middle of the floor.
A few minutes later Clayton entered her bedroom. “Things aren't over between us, Syneda.”
She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I
