by M. O. Kenyan
Rich laid her down on the bed, putting her on his usual side. He wanted to watch as she slept. Holding her wasn’t enough anymore. He wedged a pillow behind her, making sure she would always remain laying on her left side. He chuckled when a protesting moan escaped her lips. He loved how her nose scrunched up when she pouted and how her lips turned down, sticking out her stubborn jaw and her bottom lip.
“I want our daughter to look like that when she pouts.” He climbed over her and lay down next to her.
“You think we’re going to have a girl?” Catalella asked, her eyes still closed.
Rich kissed the back of her hand and cuddled it to his cheek. “We’re going to have a little girl, and we’ll call her Camellia, a beautiful flower like her mother. And a little boy called Ethan.”
“Camellia and Ethan,” Catalella whispered, the awe thick in her voice.
Rich caught the tear rolling down her cheek then repeated, “Camellia and Ethan.”
“They’re going to be fine. They will stay in here until I’m ready to let them out.” He watched as Catalella rubbed her belly. “We’re going to be happy. We won’t sleep much in the first couple of months, but we’ll be happy.”
“I know.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips and just then her eyes fluttered open. He looked into their swirling depths and the look of love in her eyes stole his breath away. “I will be happy because I have you and our babies.”
“I still can’t believe there are two in there.” She giggled.
“Actually that explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?” The smile had dropped from her lips and her pout was back. “Are you saying I’m fat?”
“You are my pregnant, fat girl.” He kissed her gently at first, then deeply when she responded to him. Rich pulled back before his desire got away with him. “I know I didn’t ask you to marry me—”
“You forcefully suggested it,” Catalella cut him off.
“All right, then.” He chuckled. “But I want to ask you now.”
Rich moved from the bed and stood to start walking to his room. But as soon as he got to her door he cursed. “Shit! I forgot my room was occupied.”
“Why? What do you want from there?” she asked as she turned to face him.
Rich thought about telling her. But he had already made a mess of his first proposal. He made his decision—he was going to venture into the lion’s den and get his treasure. “Stay here, and if I don’t return tell my babies I love them.”
Catalella burst out laughing, but suddenly she gasped and her hand fell to her belly. Rich was at her side in a second, his hand over hers. “Is something wrong with the babies?”
“No,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “This is the first time I felt them move since I was in the hospital.”
Now more than ever he knew he needed to get the ring. He gave her a hurried kiss on her forehead then ran out of the room. Not caring about disturbing the nurse’s slumber, he dug through his safe, tossing confidential papers and bundles of cash on the ground, digging for the small velvet box.
“What’s going on?” he heard the sleepy nurse ask.
“Nothing, just go back to sleep.” He shoved everything back, locked his safe and ran back to Catalella’s room.
* * * *
Catalella watched in a panic as Rich paced around the bed and tried to steady his breathing. She knew what he was going to ask and part of her dreaded it. But Rich was still married and who knew how long it would be before Ava gave in, or before a judge ruled in the divorce. She sat up, her clammy hands clutching her pillow. Should she say no before he even asked? Let him down easy and fast, or should she say yes and take the time of his divorce process to find a way out? But then what said that, during that time, she wouldn’t fall completely in love with him and want to be Mrs. McCrery?
The thumping in her heart and butterflies in her belly told her something else. They didn’t clear her doubts about marriage but they helped her stay focused on this moment and what it meant to Rich. Everything in her body, her heart at the forefront, told her she loved him, but her head was ingrained with memories of Michael Mathews. But Ethan McCrery wasn’t Michael Mathews. First of all he was part Irish, part French, he was much taller, better built and kinder than Michael Mathews could ever be.
So what was stopping her from saying yes when he asked her to marry him? Fear. Pure fear.
She watched as he got down on one knee, his trembling hand holding her own. She saw his usually calm face twist in uncertainty and fear. Catalella smiled, thinking it would set him at ease.
“I know how you feel about marriage. I know that what that bastard did to you makes you not trust men. But I need you to trust me. We are going to have a family and I…and I love you.”
The shock must have registered on her face because Rich added hurriedly. “I know I have been mean, sometimes indifferent. And I don’t want you to think us not having sex means that I don’t find you attractive—”
“Rich, what'd you want to ask me?” Catalella smiled, urging him on.
“I want you to marry me. I mean…will you marry me?” He paused and when she didn’t respond immediately he added in a rush. “DJ has been working on getting rid of Ava. Please give me a chance. I love you and—”
“I think I love you too. And I will marry you—eventually,” she added in an almost whisper. “I would prefer a long engagement. I want to get to know you better. And just in case…maybe you won’t want to be with me if…” She couldn’t bring herself to utter the words.
“Nothing bad is going to happen. We’re going to be happy, you’ll see. And we can have more kids, and if we can’t conceive naturally we’ll get medical help.”
“A long engagement, Rich.” She put in her ultimatum.
“Long engagement, but don’t wait for something bad to happen, or for a reason to leave me again.” Catalella gasped when he opened the velvet box. The cushion-cut diamond ring with a diamond studded band felt a bit too big for her finger. “I promise to love, take care of you and our babies forever. I will never do anything to make you mistrust me.”
“I just need you to be honest with me.”
“I will, forever.”
“Forever is a long time, Mr. McCrery. Are you sure you want to tie yourself to me for that long?” she teased as he sat on the bed next to her, holding her to his chest.
“Maybe a day short of forever.”
* * * *
Catalella sat on the floor of her closet and looked at the clothes littered around her. She had dug through every piece of clothing she owned and nothing fit anymore. Huffing a discouraged sigh, she tossed the pair of trousers she had in her hands over her head.
“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed.
“Believe what?”
Catalella turned back to see a worried DJ looking back at her. He stood at the door, afraid to walk into the active war zone. She watched as he scanned the room and she saw her predicament register in his eyes. A smile crept onto Catalella’s lips as she watched her childhood friend raise his hands above his head in mock surrender then pace slowly backward.
“Please don’t ask me how that shirt looks on you. I have a mother and a sister and I was never good at that game.”
Catalella’s head shot back as she let out a hearty laugh. This was what she needed. If it had been Rich, he would have retreated without a word or walked around her like she was invisible—anything to avoid the ‘do I look fat in this’ question.
“Come help me up at least.” Catalella wiggled her fat fingers at him. She’d been disappointed that morning when she had to take off her engagement ring a day after getting it because her porky finger was turning blue.
“Where is papa Rich? I thought he was never going to let you out of his sight?” DJ asked as he put his hands under Catalella’s armpits and heaved as she pushed up and onto her feet. DJ grunted then let out a groan.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Catalella asked, her eyes slici
ng through him.
“I was just wondering where Rich is.”
“No, the groan…what does the groan mean?”
“Nothing,” he said nervously. “I hurt my back unloading boxes. I got a new apartment.”
“Oh really, that’s awesome DJ,” Catalella said with a smile.
“I thought you said you would be ready to go when I got here?”
“I tried to be. But I can’t find anything to fit me,” Catalella said, her pouty lip quivering.
“Don’t cry…please don’t cry,” DJ muttered as he rubbed her back.
Catalella didn’t mean to but she felt so emotional. The smallest thing had her in tears. Yesterday the yogurt bottle wouldn’t open and Rich found her in a crying heap on the kitchen floor as the nurse looked on with an irritated scowl on her face. Today it was because nothing she owned fit her—she had even taken up wearing Rich’s tidy whiteys.
“Why don’t you wear this?” DJ retrieved a pair of sweat pants from a chair in the room.
“That’s Rich’s ‘go’ clothes,” Catalella said. “He’s laid out everything just in case I go into labor. Look,” she said, pointing around the room. “His car keys are on the bedside table, plus his wallet, my bag is next to the door and the car is parked next to the entrance.”
“Was he ever a scout?”
“He was. He believes in the ‘be prepared’ motto. But I think he’s scared something might happen. He wants to be ready to do his part. He knows when the ball starts rolling he won’t be able to do anything but watch.” Her shoulders slumped uncharacteristically. “This is what he can do and I let him obsess over it for a few minutes before going to sleep.”
Catalella wanted to choke the life out of DJ to get that pitying expression off his face. And the guilt—the guilt she didn’t understand was starting to get to her. “I’ll wear something of his.”
Catalella went back into the closet and walked to Rich’s left side of it. She went through his shirts, hoping there might be one that could fit her monstrous body. Once she had changed, she took a look at herself in the mirror. Her hips filled Rich’s pinstriped black slacks, his black shirt was tucked in and his pinstriped vest finished the look, holding everything together. Catalella then pulled back her hair, recruiting DJ to help with the taming of its wildness. They had managed to hold it back and it didn’t look like it would snap away from its restraint anytime soon. A little makeup and Catalella was ready for the office.
“Where are you going?”
Catalella frowned when her nurses’ husky voice made her nerves stiffen. “I’m going to work.”
“No, you are not.” The nurse marched into Catalella’s room, invading her space. “I was told to watch you. You need bed rest.”
“I have been on my ass for four days. I need to get out of here before I lose my mind.” Catalella groaned. “All right, let’s both calm down.”
“I am calm,” the nurse shot back.
“Why don’t you come with me? I bet you’re bored here.”
“Mr. McCrery doesn’t pay me to entertain myself.”
Catalella’s teeth gnashed against each other as she groaned inwardly. “I’ll pay you to come with me. I will be perfectly safe, right, DJ?”
“Right!” DJ said enthusiastically.
“How much?”
“How much for what?” Catalella asked then answered herself. “A thousand for you to let me out of here.”
“Fine, I’ll get my purse.”
“Whew!” DJ snorted a laugh. “I have never seen anyone beat you in an argument.”
“She didn’t beat me. I just wasn’t going to waste my breath arguing with her. I can’t believe I had to bribe her.”
“You should fire her,” DJ offered.
“I would, but Rich would bring someone else. This one is already house-broken and I couldn’t bear to have to get used to another one.”
* * * *
Rich was angry. He was livid to the point that he could feel the blood boil in his veins as he sat in the back of his car while his driver took him to Ross and Kent. He had tried calling Catalella again after Darcy had left a message with his assistant, but she wouldn’t pick up. He knew why—she was afraid that he would give her a tongue lashing. But she would get one in person, Rich decided as he made his way to her office after being summoned.
“Where is she?” he growled at Darcy as he walked out of the elevator and into her office. He snarled at the nurse he found in there, comfortably reading the new issue of Cosmopolitan.
“She’s on her way,” Darcy stammered.
Rich heard Catalella’s laughter and he turned in the direction from which it came. He saw her as she walked beside DJ, her arm locked through his as they shared a joke. But when she looked up at him she froze, and for a second he thought she was about to turn around and run in the other direction. Rich didn’t exactly expect Catalella to cower in front of him, but when she seemed to have regained her courage her beautiful jaw stuck out in disobedience as she marched toward him with a stubborn stride.
“I will not be held prisoner in my own home,” she said in defiance.
Rich smiled. He couldn’t help it. Everything his little minx did seemed to amuse him. His gaze trailed to her bulging center where his two children grew, and love and warmth filled his heart. His hand went up and rested on his chest as he sighed. And then something else caught his eye. His woman’s body was clothed in his designer shirt, vest and trousers. He gazed at her, curious and amused.
Bringing her face forward she glared at him. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything? Aren’t you even going to kiss me?”
“I should put you over my knee and spank you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m too big for that. And I might just enjoy it.” Catalella winked mischievously at him.
His lips lifted into a smile as he lowered his lips to hers, biting on her full, thick, bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth. Rich pulled away then whispered against her lips, “You never have to demand a kiss, my little orchid. But I want you to remember that you are my dearest responsibility and those are my babies growing inside you. You cannot fault me for trying to protect all of you. My methods may be extreme, but locking you in the house is all I can do to stop myself from being useless.”
“You’re never useless.” Catalella quickly kissed his nose. “All right, I’ll concede to your methods but I don’t have to like it or you.”
“But you have to love me.”
“Even if I don’t say it, you know that I do. I just need—”
“—time. I know, sweetheart. Let’s go home,” Rich said as he tried to move her toward the elevator.
“No, not yet, I have a surprise for you,” Catalella said, casting a cheerful look at him.
“Where is this surprise?”
“In the conference room.” Catalella took his hand and tugged him along. But, as they got to the conference room doors, he leaned in next to her ear then asked, “What are you wearing?”
“Nothing would fit me. I didn’t think you would mind.”
“You remember what I told you the first time we made love and you wore my shirt?” He would never forget that night for the rest of his existence. He and Catalella had spent the better part of that night in each other’s arms fulfilling their desires. He remembered when she put on his T-shirt and he said you look sexy in my shirt. Rich saw the color rise in her cheeks and he knew she remembered too.
“You remember what I promised to be when you signed the contract with Ross and Kent?”
Rich chuckled at the memory. “You said you could be my bulldog.”
“You remember what you told me after you signed the contract?” Rich’s face frowned with regret. “Look—I fetched for you.”
Rich walked into the conference room and his heart was a lump in his throat as his anger ran away with him. He took three massive steps towards Michael Mathews, but DJ stopped him in his tracks.
“Why are you here?” he growled
.
“It seems like the Ross girls can’t get enough of me. First Lisette, then the little, frail Catalella.”
“There’s time for that later, Rich,” DJ said in a firm voice.
Rich took a step back, his shoulders heaving as quick, short breaths escaped his lips. With a growl he let it be known that he didn’t appreciate Michael Mathews' presence and neither did he like that Ava’s French perfume was masking his little orchid’s scent. Rich moved back to Catalella and stood protectively by her side.
“You don’t have to fight over me, Ethan.” Ava’s French voice echoed through the room.
“DJ, please open a window,” Catalella said, seemingly out of breath.
“Are you all right?” Rich ushered Catalella to a chair, worried as she turned green.
* * * *
Catalella felt like her head was swimming around in nothingness. A bout of nausea came over her but she tried her best not to look weak in front of the enemy. She took the glass of water DJ offered her and soon she was fit to continue.
“Her perfume is making me nauseous.” Catalella turned to Ava and fixed her with a hard look. “The sooner you sign this, the sooner you get out, the better our chances of surviving that biochemical waste you call a scent,” Catalella said in an authoritative tone.
“Sign what?” Michael took his seat, a wary eye cast at Rich.
Catalella wanted to laugh. Michael didn’t look so big and strong with Rich beside her. For a second she wanted Rich to pummel the idiot to the ground, but when DJ intervened sensibility returned to her. That would be bad for them. They didn’t need assault charges to muddle today’s feat.
“You’re going to sign these annulment papers or my client is going to file a case against you for bigamy.” Catalella watched as the life drained out of the porcelain French doll.
“What are you talking about?” Michael asked worriedly.
Catalella cast a glance at Rich. She had expected him to be concerned or to want some more information, but he sat back, his business mask on, and he watched from the sidelines. Either he trusted her or he was pissed off about the ambush. Catalella hoped it was the former.