“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he whispered. “You’re my wife, and it’s my job to make you feel good, but I don’t want us to rush.”
“You have surprising restraint.” She closed her bra, squeezing her ample bosom to do so and creating the most beautiful cleavage he’d ever seen. His penis jumped. He watched with regret as she started buttoning her blouse and couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the right decision to wait.
He stepped back so she could step down onto the floor. “Not always. Look at my desk,” he said. “Look at all the chaos you’ve caused again.” The words had a double meaning. He was talking about something bigger, grander than the desk. He couldn’t keep order in his life when Daniella was around.
She kept her head bent, continuing to button the blouse. Her fingers shook a little with each movement. “This didn’t exactly go as I’d planned. I guess you were right about us having chemistry.”
“You had doubts?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted. She finished buttoning her blouse and looked up at him with resignation in her eyes.
He ran a finger down the velvet soft skin of her jawline. She didn’t turn away but lowered her lashes. “Ivy’s engagement party is next weekend, and I want you to come with me.”
Her eyes narrowed a little, and he saw the distrust in the copper-brown depths as clearly as if she’d spoken it out loud. “If we’re getting back together, we have to let people know. Why are you making this hard?”
“First of all, we’re not getting back together, and you know why I’m being difficult.”
“Because you think I can’t be trusted.”
“You can’t. The things you do…to people…it’s not right, Cyrus. You can’t force everyone to bend to your will every time you get an idea.”
Her words disturbed him, but his tactics were the most efficient way he knew to get things done. “It works.”
“You can catch more flies with honey, Cyrus. Your way is not the only way.”
He didn’t say anything at first, merely looked at her, examining her features. “It’s not,” he conceded.
She seemed surprised he’d agreed with her. “Do you think…will you give Roland his job back?” she asked in a tentative voice.
He watched her closely, trying to gauge if there was more than a friendship between her and Roland. “What does it matter to you?”
“I think it’s the right thing to do.”
He would make this one concession, but only because she asked. “I don’t know why you care about that lowlife, but I’ll give him his job back on one condition. He stays the hell away from you. For good this time.”
“I’ll tell him.” He frowned, and she added hastily, “I’ll only talk to him to tell him what’s going to happen.” She tucked her shirt back into her pants and smoothed her hands over hips. “One more thing,” she said. She hesitated before she continued, a sign he wouldn’t like the next words. “After three months, if I don’t get pregnant, you’ll give me a divorce.”
“No way.”
“We can’t do this indefinitely. We don’t know what will happen. What if we can’t get pregnant? You have to give me an out.”
Normally Cyrus didn’t negotiate if he had the upper hand, content to smash the other party with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. In this case that behavior wouldn’t be necessary.
“Six months,” he countered. “Not a day less.”
She let out a deep breath and nodded her agreement to the compromise. “Do I have your word?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Dani. You have my word,” he said. “I expect you to move in right away. I’ll give you the number to my assistant. He’ll help you.” He’d have Shaun move her in quickly, before she had a chance to rethink her decision.
“Fine.” Daniella walked toward the door.
“And Dani?”