Of Love and Deception (37 page)

She nodded.

“The swat team had me step inside, but not to identify the body,” his voice broke. “I saw the straps, the set up… and… blood. Fuck, Daniella. I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch who doesn’t deserve to have you here, in my arms…” His body shook and his hand stroked up and down her body, resting over her belly. His nose was buried in her hair, and she knew his face was wet with tears.

“I knew Falcon had to be there somewhere, in or near the cabin, and hoped he was still alive. He was on the floor, blood soaked his white shirt where Meg had apparently shot him.” He brushed his fingers through her hair, twirling it down her chest as he continued.

“You know he called me at a vital time. I was told about the results of the ultrasound, which I already knew this,” he circled his palm over the length of her tummy, “belonged to me, but the radiologist said you never showed up for your appointment. I knew something was wrong and it was bad.

“Falcon wanted me to know that
you
were…
innocent
—” The last three words came out choked. “Dammit, Daniella. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the guilt, and the hell I put us through.”

She pressed two fingers against his lips and said, “Stop it. Stop blaming yourself. You can’t do that. Because if you do, then I’m to blame too because I believed you were having an affair with
her.
That you never really loved me and you wanted her. So, no blaming you, okay?” A solitary tear trailed down her left cheek. He brushed it away with the pad of his thumb and nodded.

“Falcon said:
Your wife and Blake were never an item, only paired in the delusional mind of Meg. She loves you and in some sick, crazy way, Meg did too. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. I think she always did and I was just the next best thing... a way for her to be near you.

“He kept apologizing and went on:
Daniella was already pregnant before she came to the clinic. Meg did a sloppy job of disposing evidence and the procedure was a hoax, just as Meg’s pregnancy was. She staged the whole thing. I should have paid attention! Known she wasn’t pregnant, but she refused to be with me in any way.

“I thought he died when he gurgled and choked, and then blood dribbled out of his mouth and nose.”

Daniella gasped.

“Do you really want me to continue?” Cruz asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her softly.

“And then his last words were:
Your wife, Cruz. She’s an amazing woman and she loves you. She loves your baby so much, she put herself out there to save it. Tell her I’m glad I found her, even if I die… and if I survive… I… hope… we… can… s-still be… f-friends—

“He gasped just then, but managed to spit out:
without Meg!

“The EMT’s took over and that’s when I heard all the commotion outside. The helicopter hovering and voices of rescuers and officers shouting orders. I’ve never ran faster than I did that day, baby. And that’s the truth.” Cruz traced the outline of her face with his finger.

Daniella smiled and whispered, “Falcon kept telling me I’d have to thank you and would not accept any praise. Said it was because you kept hounding him and forcing him to find out where Meg was. He said you screamed, saying I was missing and you were certain Meg, and that ‘filthy bastard, Blake,’ were behind it. Said you swore you’d kill him if I and your baby…” she paused to swallow the lump in her throat, “were found… dead.”

Neither spoke for a while but only stared into each other’s eyes, knowing they were blessed to be here, to take back what was stolen but not lost, and their undying love would carry them through anything.

“Falcon. Is… did he…”

“He survived.”

“Whew. I feel at ease now, but sad for him. Meg was an awful person and a master manipulator.” She snuggled up next to him and buried her face into his chest.

“Thank you, baby.”

She raised her head. “For what?”

“For being you. For loving me. For letting me back in when you should’ve kicked me to the curb. I don’t deserve you, but I’m glad you think I do.”

Reaching up and gently laying her hand on his cheek, she said, “No one deserves me more than you do, Cruz. Don’t you ever forget it and promise me you’ll never take you away from me because I’m positive my heart wouldn’t survive losing you again.”

He clenched her hand in his and closed his eyes momentarily.

Settling beside her, he gathered her in his arms. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was fast at first and slowly simmered to a normal rhythm. He laced their fingers together while softly pressing his lips to her forehead.

~~~

Before the break of dawn, Daniella woke to find Cruz lying on his side with his head perched against his palm on a half bent arm, staring down at her.

“Hi,” she said in a sleepy voice. He didn’t speak, but greeted her with a sexy-as-hell smile stretching from ear to ear and stripped
her bare.

The morning hunger raged in his eyes as he traced the bottom of her lip. “Too many days apart—too many empty nights. This morning you’re mine,” he said with heated rapture.

She delighted in the feel of his solid body pressed against her, inside of her, knit together, flesh to flesh.
She found his mouth and contained the soft sounds they were making,
and he seemed
astounded and awestruck
. Watching him intensely, his
face was a portrait of passion and hunger as he, too, watched her experience the pleasure he had just given her.

Moving slower, tasting, touching, and reclaiming one another, her hips moved in rhythm with his, increasing with him, in a perfect tempo
that had him biting his lower lip, holding back the noise coming from his throat when he hit the right spot.

She moaned softly, the sensations resurfacing, flooding her even more at the sight of his mouth falling open, his body tensing, and the look of euphoria washing over his magnificent features as
the collision of pure passion brought them into the glorious rise of the sun.

~~~

Daniella woke to an empty bed. She rolled over to see where Cruz might be, but a bright flash greeted her less-than-awake eyes.

“Did you... just take a picture of me?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yep, and it’s a good one!” Cruz grinned. “We need to catch up, since we last left off at, what, a little over four months?”

“Yeah. Four months—wait. No. I was almost six month, but we didn’t know it at the time.” She smiled, but her eyes filled with tears.
If only we’d known, the terrible things might not have happened.
But, she knew there was a great possibility that Meg would have found a different way of breaking their relationship.

~~~

Their vacation did wonders for healing their souls and repairing their hearts, but Daniella was happy to finally be at home. Cruz promised he wouldn’t be going back to work for several months, and for that, she was thankful.

Her mother and friends had packed up the apartment and unpacked her belongings at home.

The one thing she hadn’t expected—Lori crushing on her brother, James. They’d be an unlikely couple, like sweet and sour. Lori the sweet, and James the sour, but to her surprise, James was all mushy, putty in Lori’s arms.

~~~

Waking before Cruz, Daniella slid out of bed and wandered down the hall. She paused, and then entered the baby’s room she’d so diligently worked on, so passionately looked forward to rocking their precious baby in the white gliding rocker. Nothing was touched or removed. Cruz left it just as she had finished it. She might have expected him to tear it down after the lies, and when all assumed she wasn’t with his child…

Unable to hold back her tears, she wept and wept, until Cruz came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him.

“Shhh,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and down along her neckline.

“Ih-ih-it isn’t fair… all stolen... everything we had… h-how’d this happen? HOW?” She shrugged.

“I’ve asked that question every day since… but I want to leave it behind and be me and you again. Me, you, and our soon to be baby. OURS. Ours, Daniella. Ours. Feels so good to say that, and know it.

“MINE.” He pressed his lips against her ear. “You’re mine. The baby is ours. Ours, Daniella,” he whispered, and then stepped back.

“I-I know.” She sniffled. “But keep telling me that. I love how you say it.”

“Take off your shirt.”

Daniella glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

“Please, just take it off. I won’t get your boobies in the picture. I promise.”

Daniella let the shirt slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor. She had a bra on and wasn’t about to remove it. “You’re right. You won’t get my boobs in the picture.”

Cruz stepped behind her and slid his hands around the center of her swollen abdomen.

“Now what are you doing?” She observed the white polka dotted gray ribbon. He tied a bow in the center of her belly, just above her popped out navel.

“Your belly is a perfect, little round ball. This will be a good picture.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck.

Both hands placed on either side of her belly, Daniella held the pose while Cruz took a side shot of her.

 ~~~

Making up for lost time, Cruz drove Daniella crazy, the good kind of crazy, with all of his ideas. He’d decided they needed to make a mold of her belly.

“But it’s so perfectly round. C’mon. It’ll be great. We could have it bronzed or made into pottery. It’s something we can look at in the future—always a reminder of all we’d been through and how much we all love each other.”

“Fine,” Daniella said stubbornly, and then laughed about it.

~~~

Several weeks later, Daniella lay in bed, wrapped in Cruz’s tender embrace. Gone were the nights of crying herself to sleep and the loneliness she suffered while they were apart. She shifted positions to admire Cruz’s peaceful face. She couldn’t resist touching his cheek and rested her palm against it. Tracing his lips with her thumb was out of the question. He’d surely flinch or startle and she didn’t want to wake him.

Daniella’s moment of adoration ended with another contraction. She’d had them off and on throughout the day, but hadn’t thought much of it. Braxton Hicks were common in the last trimester, and she wasn’t due for another week. After it subsided, she closed her eyes and attempted to sleep. By three in the morning, the cramping in her abdomen hadn’t let up. She scrambled off the bed and darted toward the bathroom. After sitting on the pot for a while and nothing happening, she stood and went to splash some cold water on her face, and then went to lay back down. Seven minutes later the cramps came back, but it was the strongest one yet and she couldn’t stifle a moan.

Several more rounds of contractions caused Daniella to sweat and moan louder, waking Cruz.

He reached over and caressed her cheek. “Hey, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer; only continued to moan.

Reaching above the headboard, he flipped the light switch on, slipped off the bed, and headed toward the bathroom. He came back with a cool washcloth. After placing it on her forehead, he sat next to her.

When Daniella glanced at him, he smiled. “Bad dream again?” he asked.

She shook her head and placed her hands on her abdomen.

“Your stomach hurts?”

“Cramps.”

“Oh. Bummer.”

“Bad cramps,” Daniella said as another contraction was on the rise. She started to moan again.

Cruz’s eyes widened. “Are… Are you in labor?”

“I’m thinking so.”

“Shoot! Why didn’t you say so? We gotta go!” He rushed out of the room and then rushed back in. “Where’s the baby bag?” He looked panicked.

Daniella chuckled. “I didn’t tell you because I’m not ready to go yet.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because. Do you have any idea how long I could be in labor? Yeah. It could be twenty-four hours or more. And the contractions are not five minutes apart yet.”

“Well, how far apart are they?” He leaned over, pulled up her nighty, and placed his palm against her abdomen. “It’s getting hard.”

Daniella nodded. The contractions were stronger, leaving her breathless.

~~~

Six hours later, connected to an I.V. and baby monitor, Daniella’s labor progressed. Fully effaced and eight centimeters dilated, she was seriously rethinking the epidural she had declined. The intense pain of the contractions had her tipping over the edge of sanity.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Don’t give up now,” Cruz encouraged, his voice soothing as he massaged her lower back, attempting to ease her pain.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Daniella screeched at Cruz. “Don’t do that anymore. Just… just don’t touch me. I hate it.”

Taking in a few more shuddering breaths, she shivered at the peak of the contraction and exhaled when it finally subsided. She rolled on to her back and caught the devastated look on Cruz’s face.

“Whoa. Sooorrrrryyyy! I won’t touch you again.” He turned away from her and began to pace. He made several phone calls as he ambled about the room. “No… Yeah. Mm-hm, and she’s crabby as hell… Um… I think eight centimeters…” He glanced at Daniella. She nodded. “Yeah, eight centimeters. No… no, she didn’t want the epidural… yes, believe me, I know. She’s tough and one heck of a woman. Okay, see you when you get here. Yes, Mother, I will.” He pocketed his cell phone.

“Cruz, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I can’t help it, and…” She suddenly went silent, unable to speak. A contraction like no other brought her into a depth of indescribable pain, and then she was flooded with an abrupt need to push.

“What is it, Daniella? Are you—”

“I gotta push! Now. I gotta—” The urge to bare down was uncontrollable.

Cruz called for the nurse.

“So you feel like you want to push, Daniella?” The nurse asked.

Daniella nodded.

“Okay. Let’s see if you’re ten centimeters,” she said as she gloved up. “I’m going to check your cervix now. Just a little pressure here.” She paused, then glanced at Daniella. “Well! Looks like we’ll be having a baby really soon. You’re ten centimeters. We can start pushing with the next contraction.”