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.
“Yes, we should probably go,” she agreed, putting on as much of a pitiful face as she could, considering she wanted to burst out laughing.
“Oh no, too bad,” Sylvia said. Her mouth turned down in disappointment.
“Yes, it is,” Cyrus said regretfully.
He stood quickly, and the O’Ryans looked startled at the speed with which he bolted from the chair. His behavior was comical because he remained calm on the outside, but his speedy movements contradicted his tranquil exterior.
“Have dinner on us.” Cyrus went for his wallet in the same pocket as her underwear. He tried to maneuver around it, but in his haste, the black lace fell onto the table.
Daniella covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. To his credit, Cyrus behaved as if there was nothing unusual about a thong falling out of his pocket. Completely unruffled, he calmly retrieved the scrap of fabric and stuffed it back in. Meanwhile, Sylvia flushed, her mouth partially open.
Rex had a small smile on his face and looked at Cyrus with a bit of envy and admiration. “Like I said, enjoy your freedom for as long as you can.”
Daniella stood. “I’m so sorry we disrupted your meal.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” Sylvia said, waving off the comment.
Cyrus tossed the colorful bills of currency onto the table. “Enjoy your evening,” he said.
“Thank you. You, too,” Rex said, a broad grin on his face.
“I plan to,” Cyrus said.
The men shared a look, and then without further ado, he grasped Daniella’s hand and hauled her toward the front door of the restaurant. She’d abandoned all pretense and was grinning from ear to ear. They flew down the steps as if running from a fire.
“I haven’t eaten,” Daniella said, laughing.
“Don’t worry. I have something to fill you up.”
A thrill shot through her. She loved when he used sexual innuendo. He didn’t leer or smile slyly like other men. He kept the same neutral voice, as if having a perfectly normal conversation without any sexual overtones. Normally, she thought it was sexy, but today it was hilarious and super-sexy.
Long fingers clasped her wrist and forced her to keep time with him, but she barely managed with his long, purpose-filled strides extending over the ground in a wider arc than hers.
“Cyrus, I can’t keep up. You’re walking too fast.”
“You started this,” he reminded her.
Then he stopped abruptly and without warning picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Daniella squealed in surprise and glee. At the same time she placed a hand to her bottom to keep her dress from riding up and exposing her bare backside.
She laughed even harder now, hanging upside down over her husband’s shoulder as he rushed along the sidewalk parallel to the beach. He maneuvered between pedestrians to get her back to the villa as expeditiously as possible, uncaring about the stares as only Cyrus could be.
This was the Cyrus most people didn’t see. She loved his playfulness, and seeing this side of him made her feel as if she were in on a secret few people were privy to. As if he could let down the walls with her.
“You better not trip and fall with me. You need to slow down.”
“No way. You started this,” he repeated. “I’m going to finish it.”
She snorted and lifted her gaze, peering through the cascade of her hair to watch the people behind them. A family of five turned around as they passed and she waved at them. Only the little boy waved back.
At the corner, Cyrus stood and turned this way and that, searching the area for a taxi. He didn’t act as if he held a grown woman over his shoulder. He stood upright and wasn’t even winded, like he only carried a sack filled with feathers.
He finally flagged down a taxi and they piled in. He pulled her on top of him and they made out heavily—his hand between her thighs, their mouths devouring each other. Petting and kissing like randy teenagers who had limited time to take advantage of their time alone. Or maybe it was more like horny adults on a second honeymoon.
By the time they arrived back at their temporary home, Daniella was certain she would spontaneously combust. Up on her tiptoes, she nibbled on his ear.
Cyrus pulled out a fifty euro bill and handed it to the driver. Rather than wait for the change, he pulled her toward the front door by the waist to an enthusiastic shout of “Muchas gracias” from the taxi.
At their door, Cyrus jammed the thin plastic into the lock slot and let them into the house, Daniella still clinging to him like a vine.
He pushed her against the wall and kissed her neck. His warm breath fanned her heated skin when he muttered, “You’re in so much damn trouble.”
They reached for each other at the same time, she to undo his pants and he under her dress to mold her bare bottom in his hands.
She looked up at him, and his face softened into a devilish smile that melted her heart.
I love him.
She’d run from this feeling all her life, avoided it, dodged it, because of fear of losing herself and losing her independence. Yet here she was, completely unfazed by the emotion. She laughed, oddly happy at the prospect, not even knowing or caring if he felt the same way. Right then, her heart felt so full she was certain she had enough love for the two of them.
He caught her face in his hands, studied her, and then she saw the transformation—happiness in his eyes.
“I’m glad we came back to Spain,” he said.
“Me, too,” she whispered back. They needed this. The trip would be a clean slate for them, a do-over. Maybe the entire reconciliation was a do-over, giving them the chance to reconnect and get to know one another again.
His mouth swooped down onto hers. She strained closer, and the ridge of his erection prodded her stomach as he sucked gently on her bottom lip. His fingers stroked her bare hip, across her belly, and then down to the slippery warmth between her thighs. Her clit swelled and ached with the need for him. She moaned against his warm mouth, widening her stance and tightening her arms around his neck.
When his pants and boxers fell around his ankles, he stepped out of them and lifted her against the wall. They came together with urgency, and her internal muscles clamped around him. Still, it felt as if they couldn’t get close enough.
“Legs around my waist,” Cyrus rasped, hoisting her higher.
She obeyed, and a wild, pulsing dance of their bodies began. Grinding and thrusting, their kisses landed with ravenous intensity.
He thrust deep, hot and hard, and she cried out, burying her face in his neck as pleasure filtered through her veins.
I love you, she thought. The pressure of forthcoming tears burned the back of her eyes, and she squeezed her eyes tight to hold them at bay.
She pressed affectionate kisses to his ear, his neck, and his hard jaw. They mingled with breathless pants against his skin.
He groaned, his big hands on her bottom tightening as he maintained the manic pace. Then, as her body splintered around his, she heard him whisper, “Dani,” right before he shook from the force of his own climax.
****
Daniella awoke and listened. By his steady breathing she could tell Cyrus was fast asleep. Easing from his arms, she moved slowly and quietly so as not to wake him. She stood for a while beside the bed and listened to make sure he stayed asleep. When she was certain, she picked up her purse and went into the bathroom. She removed the pack of birth control pills and was about to take one when she noticed she’d miscounted. She paused, studying the packet.
There was an extra one in there, which meant somehow she’d skipped a day. With the time change, she’d lost track and missed one. Or had it been a subconscious decision?
She snapped the container shut. There was no reason for her to continue taking the pills. They were getting along so well, why delay having a child when they both wanted one? She smiled a tremulous smile at the bathroom mirror, acknowledging that yes, she wanted to start a family with him. She loved him, and even though she couldn’t tell if he loved her or not, she knew he cared for her, and it was obvious he was trying to make up for the past.
The prospect of having his child no longer seemed daunting. It would be okay. They would be okay.
Daniella dropped the pills back into her purse and turned out the light. She climbed into bed, but this time she woke Cyrus when she settled down.
“Why are you all the way over there and I’m all the way over here?” he mumbled drowsily. She smiled. There was barely two inches of space between them.
He pulled her closer and she settled her back against his chest. He kissed the top of her spine, provoking a flicker of desire in her loins. When his hand cupped her breast and started to knead, her desire escalated into a full-on bonfire. She rubbed her ass against his rigid erection, and he groaned.
“Minx,” he muttered, grabbing her hips.
He sucked her neck and kneed her legs apart. Throwing her head back, she let out a whimpering moan. He filled her and she gave her body over to the sensations only he could create. She thrust back harder, her heart aching for this temporary connection.
He increased the tempo, almost outpacing her, but she kept time with him. With half her face in the pillow, her lusty cries were muffled and breathless. Her orgasm broke free, and at the same time she felt him stiffen above her.
“Dani,” he said, his voice a helpless, broken pant. His entire frame shuddered through the release.
Spent, he kept his weight from collapsing on top of her by bracing himself on his elbows. His warm breath fanned the back of her neck, where damp tendrils clung to her skin. She didn’t move and allowed his breathing to return to normal.
He dropped a tender kiss to her shoulder blade. “Missed you so damn much,” he said, his voice thick.
She’d missed him, too and had purposely requested they only communicate through their lawyers because to see him or talk to him on a regular basis would have been too hard. Her feelings for him and her decision to leave had warred inside of her for a long time, and now she realized what a mistake she’d made when she left him. She’d been so afraid of losing herself to his dominating personality and afraid of the hurt she’d been sure would eventually come.
Daniella twisted onto her back. She hated the loss of intimate contact with him, but she had to look him in the eye. In the dark, her eyes were adjusted enough to see his proud, angular face. A thin layer of perspiration dotted his forehead and made his dark brown skin shine in the ambient light. “I missed you, too. I won’t leave again.”
Cyrus dropped his head to her chest and breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief.
Chapter Seventeen
For the next two days, Cyrus and Daniella spent their time as tourists. They met the O’Ryans for dinner once—this time managing to actually complete a meal—but the rest of the time they spent alone, exploring the coast.
Today they had rented a car, and with maps in hand they drove to the neighboring town of Mijas Pueblo. In the quaint hillside village, all the buildings and houses were white, and they stopped several times so Daniella could take photos from several vantage points along the way.
Once in Mijas, they visited La Ermita de la Virgen de la Peña, where the virgin was said to have miraculously appeared. The small shrine, formerly a cave, had been excavated in the rocks at the base of the hill that led up to the village. Another must-see was the Plaza de Toros, a small bullring built in 1900 where bull fights were still conducted.
At one of the restaurants in the village they ate a leisurely lunch and then strolled through the streets, stopping every now and again in a shop so Daniella could purchase souvenirs in the form of crafts and leather goods for herself and as gifts.
Before they left, she convinced Cyrus to take a ride on one of the burro taxis. Each donkey was covered in beautifully woven fabrics that riders could sit atop, and they were “parked” on the street level near the main plaza. At first Cyrus had been adamant he wouldn’t ride one, but she finally talked him into it and giggled at the sight of his tall figure on the small donkey.
“Don’t you dare take a photo,” he warned.
“Too late.” She grinned and snapped another, and they formed a procession with other riders to make their trip to other parts of the village.
By the time they made it back to the car, it was starting to get dark, and they had a long drive back to Málaga.
“I smell like donkey,” Cyrus grumbled, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“No you don’t.” Daniella giggled, snapping her seatbelt into place.
He paused with the key in the ignition.
She stopped laughing. “What?”
He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re laughing.” He said it as if he’d noticed for the first time.
“I’ve been laughing a lot lately,” she said softly. “I guess I’m happy.”
He leaned across the seat and kissed her. His mouth was soft and sweet and warm. “Good.”
****
“Who are all these things for?” Cyrus asked. They dropped all the bags on the plush settee in the sitting area of their bedroom.
“Friends, my employees, and remember the colorful glass bowls I picked up in the shop with all the ceramics? They would be nice on the shelves in the kitchen, don’t you think?” He watched as she took out her earrings and kicked off her shoes, and he couldn’t care less about bowls in the kitchen. If she wanted to put them in the bedroom, he’d be fine with that, too.
He stalked over to her and placed his hands on her hips. She tilted her head up to him and graced him with one of her cute smiles. “Did you hear me?” she asked.
“I was distracted by you getting undressed.”
“I said, I’m going to take a shower before dinner. Are you planning to join me?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“Silly me.” She took a few steps back and pulled the sleeveless top over her head. The satin bra she wore underneath cupped her breasts, and soon he’d be replacing it with his hands. Her lashes lowered over her copper-colored eyes, but couldn’t hide the heat in them. “Are you coming?” She turned and added an extra sway to her hips as she headed toward the bedroom, her hand resting provocatively on the zipper at the back of her skirt.
“About to make you come,” Cyrus said. He was about to follow when his private cell phone rang. He swore angrily. Since not many people had that number, it had to be important.
“Don’t move,” he said.
Daniella stayed put at the door, and he looked at the phone. Trenton. Damn.
“Trenton, this better be damn important,” Cyrus said into the phone.
“I hate to bother you, but I thought you should know about the latest with Hardy Malcomb.”
“Hold on.” Cyrus hit the mute button. “I’ve got to take this,” he said to Daniella with regret.
“I’ll take my time. Maybe you can catch up and help me finish,” she said with a saucy smile. Then she went into the bathroom and closed the door.
She was so good about his work schedule, and he was grat
eful. Hopefully, he could wrap this up right away and get back to her. The past few days had exceeded his expectations, but they only had a few days left before they had to leave and go back to the States—which he didn’t look forward to. He would have preferred to stay longer.
Cyrus unmuted the call. “What’s the problem now?” If Hardy had missed the quota again he was going to fire him. Clearly it was time for some new blood because the man had lost his ability to problem solve.
“Seems the hops Hardy claims were bad were actually good enough for him to sell to someone else. He’s got his own side deals working.”
“What?” Cyrus hadn’t expected to receive this kind of information. “He’s stealing from us? Do you have proof?”
“No, but one of our production managers reported him, and she wants to talk to you directly. You have something to write with?”
Cyrus’s eyes swept the room until he spotted Daniella’s Chanel bag peeking out from under the plastic and paper sacks filled with souvenirs. She had to have a pen in there. The bag was the size of a small suitcase and he’d once seen her pull out a pair of scissors. “Hold on.”
He dug in the front pocket of the purse and didn’t find one, so he unzipped the main compartment and rummaged inside. He pulled out a pen, but in his haste knocked the purse to the floor, spilling the contents. Not wanting to keep Trenton holding any longer, he decided to clean up the mess after he’d gotten the details from his brother. Over at the desk he found a notepad and wrote down the name and phone number of the production manager.
“I told her you were on vacation, and she said she could wait until you returned to give you the details.”
“What do you think?” Cyrus trusted his brother’s judgment.
“I agree, it can wait. A few more days won’t make much difference, but I wanted to give you the option in case you thought it was worth pursuing right away. Since you’re already in Europe, you may want to even go up to London.”
Cyrus stood silently in deep thought. He’d made Daniella a promise and he intended to keep it, which meant he would not cut his trip short for business. He would simply monitor the situation from here. “You’re right, it’s not an emergency, but keep me up-to-date on what’s going on, and I’ll speak to…” He glanced down at the paper to get the name right. “Ms. Wozniak in person. Let her know I’ll call her in a couple of days to set up a meeting. I’ll fly up there before coming back to the States. Until then, let’s see if we can give Hardy even more rope to hang himself. Here’s what I want you to do.” He laid out a plan to work with Ms. Wozniak and how he wanted Trenton to monitor Hardy’s actions until he could dig more deeply into the situation. After a few more minutes of conversation, they hung up.
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