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.
