Of Love and Deception (35 page)

She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his now glossy blue eyes. He leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers.
She turned into him, her lips still settled against his half parted mouth where short lustful breaths escaped. “Baby…” he whispered before he took full control, his tongue slipping inside, caressing every inch of her own mouth, her heart beating faster with each stroke. He slipped his hand under her dress and slid it up her thigh, his fingers slowly slipping inside her lace panties.

Butterflies in her stomach surged out of control, a sensation so good it was almost nauseating. She was about to spread her legs wider when the happy moment ended.

There was a bang on the door as a nurse ran into it with a wheelchair. They both jumped and quickly parted.

“Are we ready to go?” the nurse asked.

~~~

Bright lights and rounds of questions greeted Daniella the instant they wheeled her out of the hospital. She covered her eyes from the sting of snapping flashes.

None of their questions registered, but one reporter kept shouting over all the others. His words came loud and clear.

“Mrs. Canton, Mrs. Canton? Meg Landers and Blake Sheldon are both dead. It’s official. She shot him in the chest.”

“Did you see her shoot him?”

“Did you watch her fall to her death?”

“Do you know about her husband?”

“Are you glad it’s over? With them dead?”

“Mrs. Canton?”

Cruz shook his head as he lifted Daniella from the wheelchair, cradling her in his arms and shoved past them. “What kind of stupid questioning is that? Of course she’s glad it’s all over with! She doesn’t want to relive the nightmare all over again. Would you?” he shouted, waving a fist at them.

The cab offered some privacy with the back windows covered in dark tint. Cruz sat next to Daniella and helped her trembling hands guide the seatbelt into the latch until it clicked.

“You okay?” he asked as he pressed her head into the crook between his arm and chest.

“Yeah.” Daniella sucked in a deep breath. “I have to keep reminding myself that it’s over and I don’t have to constantly look over my shoulders.” She glanced at him. “But more than anything, I’m beside myself. You’re here with me. We’re going home. And… and it’s yours.” She patted her belly.

Cruz rested his chin on top of her head and settled his hand on top of hers. He gave a little squeeze and whispered, “Ours.”

~~~

Daniella and Cruz settled into their first class seats on the jetliner. After all the announcements were made, the plane traveled down the runway and went airborne. Shortly after, additional announcements were made, and they removed their seatbelts.

“You know your brother took the first flight to the states after he found out about the…” Cruz hesitated, “…kidnapping?”

“Really? Mom never mentioned it.” She fiddled with his fingers. “I… I don’t want company right when we get… we get…”

“Home.” Cruz finished her statement with finality in his tone. “Our home, where
we
belong.” He lifted the armrest between their seats, draped his arm across her back, and squeezed her shoulder.

Daniella curled up against him and slept through the rest of the flight.

She scanned the parking garage, in search of his BMW, but it was nowhere in sight. As she attempted to turn toward the entrance, Cruz redirected her. He stopped in front of a pearl colored Escalade—a window sticker in the back window indicated he’d just bought it.

Lost for words… still numb from everything that had happened, Daniella climbed into the passenger seat with Cruz’s help. He snapped her seatbelt in place with a discernible click and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. She curled into a ball and shed a few tears. Exhaustion took over, but she couldn’t quiet her thoughts. She knew Cruz was taking her home… to
their
home. She was excited but anxious.

As Cruz pulled into the driveway, Daniella observed the landscape and the house. The surroundings were familiar, yet unfamiliar. Months had passed since she’d set foot on their property. She’d become accustomed to her upscale apartment and half concluded that was where she’d spend the next few years without her baby, then with…

My baby. His baby. Cruz’s baby. It’s… it’s his.
The knowledge drew tears to her eyes and she placed her hands against her rounded belly.
His baby.
To think this very thought caused Daniella’s heart to ache, ache in a warm and loving way. She wanted this baby more than ever. Was it wrong of her to feel this way now? Or to have felt the way she had previously? Less connected to the life growing inside of her womb?

Guilty.

~~~

The interior of their home was just as it had been prior to her leaving. All but the family room. Pillows and blankets lined the couch.

Cruz must have caught her staring at the couch. He said, “I haven’t been able to sleep in our bed since you left.” He rushed to the living room, scooped the linen in a pile, then sat down. He patted the couch. “Come.”

She stood in the entryway, unable to move or will her feet to go. It was the sway of dizziness in her head that kept her still, until her mouth filled with salty saliva. Daniella darted around the corner, skipped a few steps in a rush to get up the stairs and into the main bathroom, and collapsed in front of the toilet—not a second too late. She heaved and heaved.

Cruz crouched down behind Daniella, brushed her hair aside and gently stroked her back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?”

His voice. How she missed his warm and loving voice. Daniella wiped her mouth and blew her nose before she sat up. “I...” she shivered, “I w-want to take a… a bath in the jacuzzi in our bedroom bathroom.”

“Of course you can.” He stood and held out his hands. “Let me help you up.”

“No, no. Just give me a minute.”

“I’ll go draw up your bath.” Cruz walked out of the bathroom. As soon as she heard the water running in
their
bathroom, she crawled forward and pulled herself up in front of the sink. She took note of her toothbrush and toothpaste still displayed on the counter where she had left them the day she left. She brushed her teeth, rinsed out her mouth and went back to the bedroom.

Cruz sat on the edge of the jacuzzi with his hands clasped between his knees, head dropped down, until Daniella walked in. She stopped at the entrance—heat rushed to her cheeks when he rose to a standing position.

Does he plan on staying in here? I’m not ready for that.
Daniella glanced at the floor suddenly feeling shy. He hadn’t seen her naked, well, other than the hospital, for over two months. And the last time she shaved was the morning of the kidnapping.

“Are you going to get in?” Cruz asked.

Daniella shook her head.

“Why not?”

She couldn’t look at him, only shrugged her shoulders.

“Do you want me to leave?” He sounded hurt.

“Yeah. I… I just need a little privacy… some time to adjust.” A few tears tumbled down her cheeks.

Cruz stood in front of her. With his thumbs, he wiped the fluid away from her cheeks in small circular movements. “I want you back… my wife. I’ve always wanted you back.” He cupped her face between his hands and tilted her head. “I love you. I love you so damn much, Daniella.” He pressed his lips against her forehead and gently kissed her before leaving her to her privacy.

Warm tender lips.
She held her hand where his lips had met her skin.

Daniella stood speechless, shivering, her hands drawn toward her face. Was she really in
their
bathroom?
Their
home? Would life stop throwing mortars at her and could she finally find happiness once again, before the baby arrived? Was it all too good to be true? She and Cruz back together, again? The baby was really his. After so many slams, lies, and the ultimate deception, would it be safe to believe? Believe in anything?

~~~

Daniella laid in the Jacuzzi after washing and shaving. She reviewed everything that had happened, focused on whether or not Cruz slept with Meg. The woman was sick in the head. She lied about so many things and took away the joy Daniella once had. Pregnancy was supposed to be a beautiful experience—a sharing of the most intimate kind between two people. All of it stripped away—all but maybe the next six weeks. She closed her eyes and reached deep within her soul.

Please, God, let me find resolution. Let me move past this horror. Tell me in your own way everything will work out and that Cruz really loves me.

Like a prayer answered, Daniella’s heart suddenly lightened. Visions danced through her head. She visualized Cruz tossing and turning on the couch, unable to sleep. She imagined him punching the cushions, distraught, lonely, tear stained cheeks, his head between his hands as he lay prostrated. It was enough to cause her to pain for him. And that was enough to give her the answer.

After Daniella dried off, she escaped the bathroom and slipped into the walk-in closet, in search of her favorite shirt. Cruz’s shirt. She couldn’t find it. She searched both her half-empty rack and Cruz’s side of the closet. She grabbed the stool, unfolded it, and climbed to the third step. She examined the top shelf and reached for a dusty bag in hopes that it was the shirt.

Whew!
She snatched the shirt and stopped when she discovered a notebook wrapped inside of it. She slipped it out of the shirt and stepped down.

After slipping her arms into Cruz’s white button-up shirt, the one he used to wear under his blazer, until she claimed it, she leaned against the wood frame of the closet.

Maybe it was wrong to open the notebook, but the temptation was too great. She opened it and read the first entry.

Not sure why I feel compelled to write, but here I am penning my thoughts. All
thanks to a girl, Daniella, whom I can’t keep out of my thoughts since our encounter at Designers, Inc. What is it about her! She drives me nuts, makes me wait for her call, then asks if I’m gay… Why does she torture me? Ha. But I’ve got to wonder why she agreed to go out with me that same night. God, I think I’m in love with her. Wow. Never thought I’d say that. Okay, maybe I’ve lost my scruples…

Daniella chuckled. She skipped to the middle and stopped at a page with heavy ink spots.

She tortures me. Her silence hurts. The avoidance, weeping and always in bed when I get home, only confirms the truth. Meg’s telling the truth. Daniella’s heart is with him. The kid is his, not mine. I’d have forgiven her, but knowing the child is his, how can I forgive that? Now I’m forced to confront her…

Reading Cruz’s personal feelings, knowing he had believed Meg, angered her. She skipped to the next page and continued.

She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. Four hours later, she hasn’t returned.

DANIELLA! WHERE ARE YOU?

Each page was dated, but the page she read was also marked
day/night 1.
The following pages were also marked with a date and number.

Day/night 2:
I can’t believe you left me. Most of your things are missing. OH, GOD! She’s really gone, left me alone and broken. WHY?

Day/night 5:
Another night without sleep. I can’t find you. WHERE ARE YOU! You haven’t been to work. Parker doesn’t say much. Nobody will tell me anything. Why do they hate me? What did you tell them, Daniella?

Day/night 10:
I’d rather be dead than living this hell. My only connection with you is by your scent on the pillows, your towels, and the wedding pictures lying on the floor. God, you’re so beautiful. I thought I’d have you for the rest of my life. I never imagined our lives would turn out this way. Never!!!!

Daniella skipped further ahead.

Days and nights all blend together. Everything has been a blur. I was put out at work today—forced to answer questions about you. Lori dropped by and drilled me. “What if it’s yours Cruz? And you find this out after the baby is born and in the arms of the adoptive parents? And if it’s not yours because ‘asswipe’ used Blake’s sperm purposely?” All were good questions and after much thought about it, I’ve come to realize that I could love this baby no matter what. So I’ve decided to step in and stop the adoption. I have legal rights too.

The following pages were blank. Daniella closed the notebook and held it against her chest. It was torture reading his pain, his agony, and the way he kept mentioning how much he loved her. What more did she need? She had her answer. Cruz loved her.

She held her hands up, cufflinks against her nose, eyes closed as she wept, again. She had always sprayed his cologne on the shirt just to smell him. The scent still lingered and the memories came rushing back. Powerful memories that caused a high pitch sob to escape her lungs. Her heart was full of painful memories… memories of leaving, of the horrible fights, the turmoil, all of it.

Without a doubt, Daniella knew she’d never love another man the way she loved Cruz. To smell him, know him, and to feel him again, seemed too good to be true after all the unanswered pleas she’d asked God for. She’d previously begged for this to all disappear—never to have happened. And now, the reality was overwhelming.

“Hey, hey.”

Daniella jumped, unaware Cruz had entered the room. She tried to calm herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She gasped uncontrollably, unable to catch her breath, unable to uncover her eyes.

Cruz drew her into his chest after withdrawing the notebook. He cradled her face in his hands, touched his lips to hers. They were warm and seductive, unexpectedly tender. In a gentle motion, the crest of his tongue lavished her tongue. When he stopped, Daniella opened her eyes and met his gaze. Dark circles etched around his orbs clearly showed his increased stress and lack of sleep.

Sudden feelings of guilt overwhelmed her. The floodgates opened. “S-sorry. I-I c-can’t s-stop crying,” she mumbled.

Cruz held her steady. “I know, I know.” He stared into her eyes. “Do I ever know.”

His gaze broke and he pulled her into him, enclosed her in his arms. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and knew he, too, was overwhelmed. Slowly, his head dipped low, his eyes locked with hers, and their lips crashed together in great desperation. His tongue was so deep, so intense as he swirled it around and sucked hers deep into his mouth.