She glanced at the first one and every ounce of oxygen in the room vanished.
"It's you," she whispered. She flipped through the pages. "They're all of you."
Gorgeously rendered. Drawn by the hand of a master who knew himself intimately and who was unashamed to show the world all the glorious details of what made up Leonardo Reynolds.
And he was completely naked in every single one.
He shut his eyes. "I stripped myself bare. Emotionally, physically, spiritually. For you. I cannot possibly explain what it cost me to put all of it on the paper. But it's there. Tell me it's enough."
Oh, my God.
"Leo," she croaked through a throat suddenly tight with unshed tears. This had all been for her. "Yes. Yes. It's enough."
More than enough. She clutched the pages to her abdomen. It was the deepest expression of his love she could possibly imagine and these pictures were worth far more than a thousand words. They told the story she'd yearned to hear, lifting his shell once and for all, revealing everything important about the man she loved.
Artist Leo touched her deep in her soul with invisible, precious fingers.
He deflated, almost collapsing. But then he opened his eyes and caught her in his arms, binding her to his strong, solid body. Her knees weren't too steady either as she let the drawings flutter to the floor and burrowed up against him.
Warm. Beautiful. Hers.
Her brain was having trouble spitting out anything coherent. And then he kissed her and she stopped thinking at all.
It was hungry, openmouthed, sloppy and so powerful. As he kissed her, he mouthed words she couldn't understand.
He broke away and murmured into her hair. And the phrase crystallized. "I want to be the husband you need."
"Oh, darling, you are." In every sense. He had been from the first moment, providing a safe, secure place for her to bloom into his wife. He was her match every bit as much as she was his.
He shook his head. "I haven't been. I don't deserve you. But I want you. So much."
"You have me. Forever. We're married, remember?" She smiled but he didn't return it.
"Not like this. No more agreement. No separate bedrooms. No separate hearts." He put his palm flat against his breastbone like a pledge. "I could've hired a personal assistant. But I didn't. I went looking for a wife because I needed one. I need a wife who sees past all my faults and loves me anyway. It's not too late, is it?"
She placed her palm on top of his. "Never. But, Leo, you didn't go to work today. You're not throwing away your company's success for me. I won't let you."
"I can't-so tired." His knees buckled and he fell to the carpet, taking her with him. He pulled her into his lap and cupped her jaw in his strong hands, fiercely, passionately, as if he'd never let go. "Like you said. You didn't draw the line. I did. It's what I do."
With a lopsided half smile, he jerked his head at the hundreds of drawings decorating the bedroom behind him. "You weren't trying to force me to make impossible choices. The choices weren't yours to present. You were simply helping me see what options had been there all along. Reynolds Capital Management is a part of me I can't give up. So are you."
"You want both? Me and your company?" Hope warred with reality. The drawings were a big, flashing exhibit A of what happened when Leo focused on something. His preferred spot on the sidelines made troubling sense.
"I want it all." His eyes closed for a beat, a habit she'd noticed he fell into when he struggled with what was going on inside. "I don't know how to balance. But I want to. I have to try."
His voice broke, carving indelible lines in her heart.
This was the open, raw, amazing man she'd fallen in love with. But she and Leo were the same, with facets of their personality that weren't always easy to manage.
"You can do it. We'll do it together." Who better to help him figure it out than the woman standing behind him, supporting him? "I love your intensity and I don't ever want you to feel like you can't be you. If you want to hole up on a Saturday because you've got a hot new investment opportunity to work, do it. Just don't expect to get much sleep that night. Don't ever deny any piece of yourself. I need all of you. As long as we both shall live."
Her job as Mrs. Reynolds was so simple: provide a foundation for him to blossom, the way he'd done for her.
"That sounds promising. If I have to work on a Saturday, will you still make me coffee?" he asked hopefully.
She smiled. "Every time. We'll both give a little and balance will come."
Nodding slowly, he cleared his throat. "I think it must be like when you have children. You love one with all your heart. Then another one comes along. Somehow you make room. Because it's worth it."
Children. Leo was talking about having children in the same breath with trying to balance.
The tears gathered in earnest this time. He'd transformed before her very eyes, but instead of a pirate or Rhett Butler or even a battered Mr. Fourpaws before her, he was wholly Leonardo and 100 percent the love of her life. "Yeah. I think it must be like that. We have stretchy hearts."
"Mine's pretty full. Of you." He was kissing her again like a starving man, murmuring, but this time, she had no trouble deciphering what he was saying-I love you.
Then he said, "My hand hurts."
She laughed as she kissed it. "Wait right here. I have pills to throw in the trash and a red-hot wedding night outfit to wear for you. I guarantee you'll forget all about your sore hand."
Technically, it wasn't her wedding night. But in her book, every night was her wedding night when she was married to a man who loved her as much as Leo.
Epilogue
Leo Reynolds wished he could marry his wife, but they were already married and Daniella refused to divorce him just so he could have the fun of proposing to her in some elaborate fashion.
"Come on, you can't fool me," Leo teased her as they gripped the railing of the observation deck on the third level of the Eiffel Tower. Nine hundred feet below, the city of Paris spread as far as the eye could see. "You missed out on the proposal and the wedding of your dreams. You wouldn't like to do it all over again?"
Daniella kissed his cheek with a saucy smile, throwing her loose brown hair over her shoulder. "I'm getting the honeymoon of my dreams. And the husband. All that other stuff pales in comparison."
Sure it did. His wife suffered from an affliction with no cure-overt romanticism. Since he loved her beyond measure, he took personal responsibility for ensuring she never lost it. "Then you'll have to forgive me when I do something pale and lackluster like...this."
He slipped the ring box from his pocket and popped it open to reveal the rare red diamond ring inside. "Daniella Reynolds, I love you. Will you promise to be my wife the rest of our days, always wear that sexy lingerie set and let me make you as happy as you've made me?"
Daniella gasped. "Oh, Leo. I love you, too, and of course I promise that, with or without a ring. But it's beautiful."
"It's one of a kind. Like you. This ring is symbolic of a different sort of marriage, one based on love. The one I want with you. Every time I see it on you, I'll think about how love is the best security and how easily I could have lost it." He pulled the ring from its nest of velvet and gripped his wife's hand, slipping it on her third finger to rest against her wedding ring. And then he grinned. "Plus, the stone is the same color as pomegranates."
A tear slipped down her cheek at the same moment she laughed. "Thank you. Paris was enough but this..." She stuck her hand out and tilted it to admire the ring. "This is amazing. When in the world did you find time to shop for jewelry? You've been cramming for Tommy's product launch for weeks so you could squeeze in this trip."
"Tommy came with me and we strategized in between." Leo rolled his eyes. "Trust me, he was thrilled to be involved. I never imagined when he said he wanted to learn everything that would include how to pick out a diamond for a woman."