Johnson Family 2: Perfect (15 page)

He tugged on her lower lip with his teeth. She moaned. He could give lessons on how to kiss right.

When he withdrew, she felt a pang of disappointment. He tilted up her chin, searching her eyes. For what she didn’t know.

“What?” she said uneasily, unable to remain quiet under such intense scrutiny.

“Nothing.” He dropped a final kiss on her nose before walking out, and she watched him leave with a strange hitch in her chest.

Daniella started setting breakfast on the table in front of the bay window instead of the formal dining room. The plates rattled in her unsteady hands. What was happening to her? She stopped moving and placed her hands on the table to steady her nerves and the shortness of breath.

“I’d do anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”

The last thing she needed to do was fall in love with Cyrus again, but when he said things like that, when he looked at her the way he did, it was so easy and so tempting to believe in him and forget his reprehensible behavior.

He bought companies and tore them apart. He bought
people
for his own selfish purposes, and he had a sense of entitlement ten miles wide. Hard to blame him when he’d grown up in such a wealthy household with the expectation that everyone would do as he commanded.

She
couldn’t
fall in love with him again. It would be the epitome of foolishness. She’d seen what love could do. She’d been young at the time, but her parents’ divorce had been bitter. How could the relationship of two people, whose wedding photos had displayed their love and affection for each other at one time, deteriorate into the hate fest their divorce had become?

She had to guard her heart. If she fell in love with him again, she would regret it. No doubt about it. Because love was like an insidious disease that crept up on the unsuspecting. One that, even after its cure, left the victims with lifelong scars.

****

A few weeks later, Cyrus chartered a plane to
Málaga
, Spain in the Costa del Sol region—the southern part of the country. Located on the Mediterranean Sea, the city was a popular vacation spot for Europeans and where Cyrus and Daniella had spent their honeymoon—a honeymoon cut short because an unforeseen business emergency had cropped up back in Seattle. This time Cyrus promised their visit wouldn’t be shortened.

Despite his promise, after a jetlag-induced “nap” that lasted six hours, a phone call interrupted their lunch on the balcony of their rented villa overlooking the sandy beach. Cyrus took the call inside the bedroom and minutes later, he returned. He shot her an apologetic look, told her he was sorry, and ducked back inside.

He couldn’t realistically disappear as the head of a multi-billion dollar company. Too many people depended on him. Not only immediate family, but family members working at their restaurants and the breweries, and the tens of thousands of employees across the globe.

To put his mind at ease, she went into the bedroom where he was stalking back and forth and tapped him on the shoulder. “Take care of business,” she said softly. “I’ll still be here when you get done.”

Phone to his ear, he pulled her close and kissed her. He then took off out the door in the direction of the temporary office they’d set up, though she expected him to use it more often than she did. She heard him down the hall, his voice angry and annoyed. “What the hell is going on over there? I thought we had the Vegas deal locked up.”

Daniella went back out to the balcony and watched with envy all the people sunbathing and swimming in the warm blue waters. Cyrus couldn’t enjoy himself, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t.

She donned her white two-piece and joined the other vacationers. She spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach and met a friendly couple—Rex and Sylvia O’Ryan—originally from New York but now living in Norway. They kept her company and since she wasn’t sure if Cyrus would be busy at night, too, accepted their invitation to meet for dinner later.

When she returned to the villa, Cyrus apologized again, but she assured him she wasn’t upset.

“I hate I missed spending time with you,” he said. “I promise that won’t happen again.”

He was frowning, obviously struggling with the balancing act of taking care of business and being in the present, here, with her. She walked over to him and brushed her fingers over his furrowed brow. The lines immediately disappeared.

Gazing up at him, she said, “I’m fine. I’m a big girl and I know how to entertain myself.” She walked toward the bathroom to wash the sand and water from her sun kissed skin.

Before she could shut the door, Cyrus shouldered his way in. His gaze swept her body, sliding in appreciation over the slender lines. Being outside for hours had transformed her skin into a slightly darker caramel hue, showed off to perfection in the white bikini. “I like that bathing suit,” he murmured, his voice rich and dark. She glanced down at the rise in his pants and smiled.

“You do, huh?”

“Mhmm.” His fingers traced a line under the curve of her breast in the halter-topped bikini and her nipples puckered in response.

“What about the green one?” she asked. She’d worn it poolside in Seattle and he’d paid her plenty of compliments at the time.

“I like that one, too,” he said with a slow grin that made her breath hitch. “But this is my new favorite.”

He pulled at the bow behind her neck and the top fell away to reveal her breasts, her nipples turning into even harder pebbles.

“Yeah, this is my new favorite,” he said. He covered her mouth and backed her toward the shower.

They undressed slowly, kissing and stroking each other in a leisurely manner, as if they had all the time in the world. And it felt as if they did. Being away from the hustle and bustle of their everyday life had slowed them down.

When they finished their shower, Daniella wasn’t just washed clean. She’d been licked and kissed with a thoroughness that had sent her spiraling into two satisfying orgasms.

Chapter Sixteen

Dinner with the O’Ryans was at an open-air restaurant in
Málaga
, chosen for its proximity to the beach and abundant fresh seafood. While they waited for the other couple, Cyrus and Daniella perused the menu and decided on one of the special grills or
especial parilladas
, for two persons. Daniella didn’t think she could eat that much food, but with Cyrus’s appetite, the amount of seafood promised would probably be perfect for him.

They were chatting quietly when the O’Ryans finally arrived, both flustered as they hurried over to the table.

“Sorry for the delay,” Sylvia said. She sounded out of breath, as if they’d sprinted to the restaurant from their hotel near the villa. After they were introduced to Cyrus, she said, “We left the kids with my mother-in-law, and we had a minor emergency. My youngest wasn’t feeling well and wanted to talk to me. She’s the baby.”

“She’s not a baby, but you treat her like it,” Rex said with a good-natured smile. He rested his hand on the back of his wife’s chair. “Our youngest is five, and ever since she turned two, my wife has been trying to convince me to have another one. To make up for it, she treats our daughter like a baby.”

“I do not.” Sylvia hit him on the shoulder.

Rex rubbed the spot, pretending to be hurt. “Kids are expensive, and I think four is enough, don’t you?” He looked at Cyrus for agreement. He didn’t know who Cyrus was. Daniella had only told them her husband hadn’t been able to join her on the beach because of a business call. They had no idea the extent of Cyrus’s wealth.

“I wouldn’t know,” Cyrus said. “We don’t have any yet, but we’re working on it.”

Daniella took a sip of her wine. She felt a twinge of guilt over the pills she’d brought on the trip.

“How long have you been married?” Sylvia asked.

“Four years,” Cyrus supplied.

“Don’t rush. Enjoy each other while you can,” Rex advised. “Because once the kids come, your life will be completely different.”

“In a good way,” Sylvia said, shooting her husband a chiding glance.

“Most of the time,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye. Their differing viewpoints were a sight to behold. They managed to disagree without being disagreeable, argue without being argumentative and mean to each other. A skill no doubt learned over their fifteen years together.

“We are looking forward to it,” Cyrus said. “We’re definitely ready to start a family.” He slid his arm across the back of her chair.

Daniella remained silent, conflicted. He trusted her, but she had been deceiving him for weeks. And with their newfound intimacy, having a baby didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Maybe they
could
make their marriage work after all.

As they sat there talking with the O’Ryans, Cyrus impressed her with his ability to switch gears. One minute he was the affable husband making small talk and discussing how he looked forward to having a family of his own. The next he spoke Spanish to the waitress and translated the conversation to the rest of them so they could better understand what was offered in each dish. She was impressed and a little jealous, regretting that she’d never learned to speak her grandmother’s language.

He appeared to be quite relaxed, laughing and talking easily with the O’Ryans. He should take time off more often. The only other time she could remember seeing him like this was during their honeymoon. Perhaps the difference was because no one here knew who he was, and therefore had no expectations in regard to him. When they inquired about his business, he briefly mentioned the restaurants without giving the names, and avoided telling them about the beers. If they were curious, they didn’t pry, but it was obvious he wanted to maintain his anonymity.

All of a sudden she felt the need to connect with him, and she touched his thigh with her hand under the table. The muscle there flexed, but he didn’t miss a beat in the conversation. Across from her, the O’Ryans were none the wiser about what she’d done.

Feeling daring and mischievous, she squeezed his leg, wanting to unnerve him a little bit. He simply covered her hand and held it in place. She allowed him to do so for a little bit longer and joined the conversation. The O’Ryans did most of the talking, discussing their children and their antics.

Daniella slipped her hand from Cyrus’s and commented on something Sylvia said. At the same time, Daniella brushed her fingers over her husband’s crotch. He nodded his head at one of Rex’s remarks, but her action elicited an almost unnoticeable tightening of his hand on the table. His right hand, still resting on his thigh, swiped across her mons so unexpectedly she almost leaped from her chair. She moved suddenly, and to cover her reaction, she started coughing.

“You okay?” Cyrus asked, his face filled with false concern. He rested a hand at her back.

Continuing the charade, Daniella pressed her hand to her chest and cleared her throat. “The wine went down the wrong pipe,” she said, even though she hadn’t touched her wine in several minutes. “Excuse me. I need to run to the restroom.”

“Hurry back,” Cyrus said, his eyes filled with amusement.

Daniella knew exactly what to do to fix him. In the bathroom, she removed her underwear and balled it up in her hand. She checked her appearance briefly and smiled at the playful expression on her face. This trip had been good for them. She was actually feeling a little giddy.

She made her way back to the table and sat down.

“Feeling better now?” Cyrus asked.

“I’m feeling a bit flushed, but I’ll be fine,” she replied.

“Would you like some water?” Sylvia asked, already picking up the glass pitcher.

“Thank you. That would be nice.” Daniella accepted the glass and took several sips before rejoining the conversation.

They’d moved on to favorite vacation spots. Rex said their trip to Australia had been his favorite, but Sylvia said their honeymoon touring southern Italy had been hers.

“How about you two?” Sylvia asked.

“I work a lot, so we haven’t had much opportunity to travel together,” Cyrus said. “That will change in the near future.” He said it with such confidence, she didn’t doubt him for a minute.

“This region is my favorite,” Daniella said. “It’s where we spent our honeymoon and coming here again was a good idea to re-energize our marriage.”

Cyrus glanced at her and she smiled. She meant it. The different environment had caused them both to relax. Hopefully the longer they stayed the closer they’d become.

Cyrus’s hand remained on his thigh, and she slipped her panties under his fingers. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend what he held. She knew the exact moment he did because he stiffened slightly and then looked briefly down at his hand. As he stuffed the black lace into his pocket, she took the opportunity to entice him further by crossing her legs and pulling her dress higher, up to mid-thigh.

He looked sharply at her. “What did you say?” he asked.

Daniella frowned at him in confusion. “I didn’t—”

“It seems my wife still isn’t well,” Cyrus said, talking over her. He touched her forehead. “I should get her back to the villa. She feels hot.” His eyes met hers, and the desire there did indeed heat her blood.