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.