Perfect

by Delaney Diamond

  He turned away from the window and studied her for long seconds before responding. “It’s just a house. It’s not that important. You’ll need it more than I do with the baby coming. This place serves my needs.”

  For the first time she noticed he wasn’t wearing his ring. He’d worn that ring for the three years of their separation. Now it was gone, and the shock of its absence splintered her heart into fragments. He’d officially given up on their marriage.

  He didn’t even want the house—his beloved house. He would give her anything she wanted to get rid of her.

  She drifted back into the conversation, catching the last bit of his current sentence. “…get Shaun to start research on someone to help with the baby.”

  Eyes on her feet, Daniella nodded numbly, afraid if she tried to speak she’d fall to her knees, grab him about the ankles, and beg him to forgive her.

  “So everything is settled?” he asked.

  She barely managed to nod again—paralyzed, finding it hard to move.

  “Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate you coming to tell me in person.” So impersonal, as if he was thanking one of his employees.

  Tears burned the back of her throat, but she managed to keep her composure. She could barely see her feet through the cloud of tears.

  She couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now. Not in front of him.

  Where was her purse? Daniella scanned the room.

  Forget it. She’d leave it. She had to get out. Everything around her was distorted because of the moisture in her eyes. She blinked rapidly and rushed toward the door. A tear crept from the corner of her eye, and she brushed it away.

  “Dani?”

  His voice halted her escape. She placed a hand to her stomach to smother the pain expanding there. What was he going to give her now? More money? Another car? Another house?

  “I can’t do this.” The words were spoken so low, she almost didn’t hear them. His voice sounded strangled. Strained, even. “I can’t…I can’t let you go. I know it makes me selfish, and I’m an asshole, but you have to give me another chance. I want…” His voice fell off, the heaviness of it calling out to her. She held her breath as she listened. “We’ll go on more dates, and we’ll take things slow. Real slow. Slower than we did before. I…I can’t let you go again, Dani. I’m miserable without you. I need you. I love you. I want us to raise our child together. I can’t get through the rest of my life without you.”

  She finally faced him, her emotions no longer a precarious jumble because he’d said the words she’d longed to hear. Slowly, she moved toward him. Then stopped. “You love me?”

  He stood proudly, his handsome face taut with tension, his chin tilted up and body braced like a fighter preparing for a blow. “Yes, and I’m not giving up on us. I refuse to—”

  He never finished because she rushed toward him and wrapped her arms around his body, squeezing her eyes shut.

  “Dani?” Confusion colored his voice, and she laughed. It was a shaky but contented sound.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispered.

  Cradling her face in his hands, he tilted her head up and searched her eyes, clearly unable to believe what he’d heard. The coffee-dark eyes of her big, strong, invincible husband were filled with anxiety, and the frown he wore was so cute.

  With her fingertip, she traced the crease in his forehead and made the lines disappear. “I love you, Cyrus, and I don’t want to go through life without you, either.”

  Long seconds ticked slowly by before her words finally registered. A wide grin broke out on his face, like nothing she’d ever seen before. There was no arrogance or smugness, only pure and simple joy. He rested his forehead against hers. “Dani, you’re my life. I was so lost without you.” He planted a tender kiss on her mouth, and she sighed with happiness.

  “I was lost without you, too.”

  Epilogue

  Their son arrived in the world with an imperious cry forewarning everyone that even at such a young age he was ready to take over the world. They named him Michael Andrew—giving him the middle name of his father and his grandfather, but his own first name. Family members had been surprised, some even disappointed, expecting a Cyrus the third. But Daniella understood how important it was for her husband to allow their son to have his own identity, and she supported his decision.

  The family’s PR firm released the name and photos to the press to avoid the mad dash for the first image of the newest member of the Johnson family dynasty.

  For his part, Cyrus was as involved as he could be with their son’s care. Xavier working at the company allowed him to pass on some of the operations, which freed him to come home a little earlier and significantly cut the time he had to travel for business.

  Every free moment he had, he spent with his son, playing and talking to him. A spare playpen had been set up in his home office, with plenty of colorful toys for Michael to occupy himself with. Yet it wasn’t unusual to see Cyrus holding his son in one hand and typing with the other. Michael was also captivated with his father. He was especially drawn to his voice. Every time he heard it, he turned in his father’s direction and stared, his brown eyes wide and alert, as if soaking up bits of knowledge in every single word.

  ****

  Daniella said goodnight to her father and hung up the phone. She climbed the stairs to the second floor. She and Carlos spoke on a regular basis now, but tonight’s conversation had lasted longer than usual.

  The upstairs hall was quiet. Outside the nursery door she met the nanny, a buxom black woman they’d hired from England to help with Michael’s care.

  “He won’t let me do my job,” the nanny whispered, a frown settling over her features.

  They’d discussed the situation before, how whenever Cyrus was around, the nanny seldom had the opportunity to take care of Michael. The woman was worried she would be seen as useless and then dismissed, and Daniella’s reassurances hadn’t been enough.

  “I’ll take care of it.” She patted the nanny’s arm.

  “Well…”

  “We’ll see you in the morning,” Daniella said with a smile.

  “All right, then.” She still appeared uncertain and lingered for a moment before finally taking the stairs down to the lower level.

  Daniella entered the nursery to find Cyrus seated in the wing back chair beside the baby’s crib. He held four-month-old Michael in one arm, safe and sound against his bare chest, both of them fast asleep. She stood there for a moment, taking private pleasure in watching them both. She’d snapped photos of them like this before, so it was nothing new, but the sight still warmed her insides.

  Cyrus was every bit the doting father she’d expected him to be. She couldn’t imagine what the employees and business people he dealt with every day would think if they saw him the way he was tonight—in a pair of dark slacks, cradling his son against his chest. He could bottle feed and burp with the best of them. Changing diapers was another matter altogether. Whenever his son soiled his diaper, Cyrus always found her or the nanny, holding his son away from him with a wrinkled nose. It was the only time he would willingly hand him over.

  He claimed he was no good at changing diapers. Cyrus Johnson, who did everything perfectly. Yeah, right. She smiled to herself as she watched him. That was his excuse so he wouldn’t have to perform the unsavory task.

  She placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered his name. His eyes flew open and he blinked several times to catch himself. “Time for you to go to bed.”

  He had an early meeting before a flight to London the next day. They were still searching for someone to head up European production. A headhunting firm had narrowed down and vetted the list of candidates, and he and Xavier were on their way to London to interview Hardy Malcomb’s potential replacements.

  She lifted their son out of Cyrus’s arms and Michael protested, whimpering until she rocked him back to sleep with soothing caresses to his back. She kissed her little bundle’s so
ft cheek before placing him carefully in the crib. When she turned around she saw Cyrus staring at their son between the slats. He was always staring at their son, as if he still couldn’t believe Michael actually existed.

  She took his hand. “Come on.”

  She led him into their bedroom and sat him on the bed. She knelt before him and removed his shoes and socks. When she stood and started unbuckling his belt, he pulled her between his legs, and his hands slipped to her bottom.

  “How’s your father?” he asked.

  “They want us to come visit,” she said. Carlos and his wife had moved to the beautiful island of St. John. He had invited her, Cyrus, and Michael to come see them, and she’d promised to discuss it with Cyrus. A year ago she would never have guessed she could have such a fulfilling relationship with her father. The resentment she felt toward his wife was still hard to set aside, but she was working on it.

  By reconnecting with her father, she’d learned a few things about his relationship with her mother she hadn’t known before. He had, in fact, tried to reestablish a relationship with Daniella after he divorced her mother, but her mother had been opposed to it. He’d overnighted a box of mementos—cards and letters he’d sent her for the first five years after the divorce that had been returned unopened. Afterward, he’d given up.

  When she demanded to know why he didn’t try harder, he’d said, “After what I’d done, I felt she needed you more than I did.”

  Her mother’s role in her painful past had been difficult to digest, but Daniella had accepted it and forgiven her. People made poor decisions when they loved deeply. She knew all about that.

  “I think it’s a good idea to go see them,” Cyrus said. “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing his grandson in the flesh.”

  “He is, so you’ll have to let someone else hold Michael for a change.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll consider it.”

  She kissed his forehead. “You need to go to sleep,” she said, pushing away his hands, even though she enjoyed his touch. “You have a big day tomorrow and you’ve had a crazy weekend.”

  “I’m still awake,” he pointed out, looking down at the rise in his pants.

  “Behave.” She slapped his roving hand, but he pulled her down on top of him.

  “At least turn off the lights,” she whispered.

  “No way. I want to look at you. I never get tired of looking at you.”

  Daniella smiled contentedly and rewarded her husband with a deep kiss. She appreciated him so much, and how could she not love him when he constantly reassured her she was still as beautiful and sexy as ever?

  She was self-conscious about the weight she hadn’t taken off since the baby’s arrival, but Cyrus didn’t seem to mind at all. It bothered her, though. Maybe because she’d always been thin, but she wanted to get as close to her former weight as possible. She’d recently hired a personal trainer to help her lose those last pounds, and since he was a sadistic drill sergeant, she expected to be back to her old self in no time.

  Their lovemaking was an unhurried exploration where his hands brushed across her nipples and moved slowly along the contours of her waist and hips. His mouth trailed over her nakedness in the same leisurely fashion and, as if to reassure her, he kissed her rounded belly and the stretch marks on her hips, which he affectionately called her “tiger stripes.”

  She welcomed him between her legs with a contented sigh. His hips rocked back and forth—slowly, gently. Moaning and matching his movements, she wrapped her arms around his strong neck as tension tightened in her belly. Gradually, their breathing became sporadic and their words came out like broken beats of heated air. When she climaxed, her entire body gripped his—arms, legs, even teeth, which she sank into his shoulder.

  Afterward, he turned out the lights and she lay her head on his shoulder, an arm thrown across his firm stomach. They lay quietly, with him lightly rubbing her bare back, from her shoulder blades down to the curve in her lower spine.

  “Michael’s getting so big,” Cyrus said after a few minutes.

  “Babies grow fast,” she agreed. She fell silent, but she couldn’t sleep. “Are you still awake?” she asked, when he had stopped caressing her back.

  “Mhmm.”

  “Can we get our own place in Costa del Sol? I love it there. Nothing big. Maybe one of those little white houses on the hillside near Mijas, with a rooftop terrace and a little yard. Or even a place on the beach. Something with a few bedrooms. One for us, Michael, and our next one.” They’d discussed having at least one more child.

  “Sure. I’ll get Shaun to do some research and you can decide what you want.”

  “I want you to choose with me,” she said, watching his profile in the darkness.

  “Okay, whatever you want.” He was slipping fast. She could hear it in his speech.

  She pressed her nose to his neck. She loved to smell him. “Thank you. You’re such a sweetheart.”

  He growled. “Stop calling me that. You make it sound like I’m a big softie.”

  “You are,” she teased. “You’re my big softie. My teddy bear.”

  “I’m a grizzly bear.”

  “No matter what you say, you’re my teddy bear.”

  “Grizzly,” he countered. Of course he’d have to have the last word.

  Daniella kissed his cheek, and within a few minutes he started snoring. To have fallen asleep so fast, he was definitely tired.

  She nudged him. “You’re snoring,” she said.

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled. He shifted in the bed so he lay on his side and pulled her against him so they were spooning. “Better?”

  “Mhmm.” She snuggled deeper into his arms.

  Her life was much better than it had ever been and surpassed her expectations. She’d mended the relationship with her father. She had a husband who loved and supported her. Her business was doing well and her son was healthy and happy. Life couldn’t be better.

  In a word, it was…perfect.

  The End

  Excerpt from Just Friends

  (unedited)

  Trenton and Alannah’s story…

  When Alannah swung open the door, Trenton couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face. He was always filled with such pleasure whenever he saw her.

  “Hey, stranger,” she said. “What’s that?” She grabbed for the bag.

  “Is that all I’m good for?” he asked, holding it just out of reach. “Come here, girl. I missed you.”

  He grabbed her up in his arms and lifted her off the floor. She giggled softly and wound her arms around his neck. “Glad to see I was missed.”

  He set her back on the floor and closed the door. Taking her in, he said, “You know you were missed.”

  She stood before him in a pair of gray gym shorts and a white tank top with her hair hidden under a burgundy satin bonnet. “Why you looking like you’re ready for bed?”

  “Two reasons. I didn’t know if you’d be staying late with one of your hos.”

  “I don’t mess with hos, thank you very much.”

  She ignored him. “So I figured I’d better get ready for bed. The other reason is, I have a surprise for you. But before I tell you my surprise…” She sniffed the air and eyed the bag in his hand. “I smell Thai.” She snatched it from him and he chuckled.

  He trailed behind her to the kitchen. “How was Arizona?” he asked.

  “Nothing special,” she replied. “My parents were happy to see us. My sisters flew in for a few days while I was there, so the whole family spent time together. It was nice.”

  He leaned against the counter and watched her remove the contents of the bag. She pulled plates and utensils from drawers and started scooping out food.

  “So, what’s my surprise?” he asked.

  Alannah turned to face him. She seemed to think about what she wanted to say first, her eyes meeting his hesitantly. “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said. “I’m not getting any younger.”<
br />
  “None of us are.”

  “And…well, I want to make some changes in my life. So…you know what, it’s better for me to show you than to tell you.” She removed the bonnet from her head and released her hair. She ran her fingers through the strands, sifting them loose until they tumbled past her shoulders. “What do you think?”

  He took a good look at her. “You colored your hair.”

  “Yes.” She bit her lip. “What do you think?”

  “I like it,” he said slowly. What was this all about?

  “I had it cut in layers, too.” She turned around so he could see the back. She pushed her fingers through the shiny auburn strands and shook her head so the thick mass rippled back and forth across her back. Turning to face him again, she said, “I know it’s pretty drastic. Well, for me it’s drastic, but I only had a few inches cut off. The craziest thing is the color. Auburn. Can you believe it? After having dull brown hair all my life, I went with auburn.”

  “It’s an attention getter,” Trenton said. “Where are your glasses?” She seldom went without her glasses because she was near-sighted. Every time she took them off, she walked around squinting.

  “Oh, that’s the other thing.” She pointed at her eyes. “Contacts.”

  “Contacts?”

  “Yes. I have the long-wearing ones that you can sleep in. It took me a while to get used to them. Sometimes I absentmindedly reach for my glasses and then realize they aren’t there. It’s crazy, but yep, I’m wearing contacts now. I’ve had them for a week already.”

  Trenton scratched the back of his head. “I don’t understand. What’s going on with you? What’s with all the changes?”

  Alannah shrugged and started spooning food onto the plates again. “Like I said, I’m not getting any younger. It’s time for me to act and look like a woman.”

  “I liked the way you looked.”

  She smiled briefly at him over her shoulder. “That’s sweet, but you’re just saying that cause you’re my friend. I want to know what a man thinks.”

  “I’m a man.” What the hell?

  She giggled on her way to the refrigerator. “You know what I mean. You’re more like a girlfriend than a man.”