Page 79 of Claimed By the Boss

His voice breaks, and I see a rawness in him I have never seen before. This man who has always been so controlled, so powerful, looks undone by the sight of his child.

Becca is crying outright now, covering her mouth with both hands.

“He’s beautiful,” she says softly, leaning close to kiss my cheek. The doctor checks us both quickly, then smiles and nods.

“He’s perfectly healthy,” he tells us. “We’ll just get him cleaned up.”

Relief surges through me again, fresh and overwhelming. The nurse takes him away for a few minutes before giving him back, all freshly scrubbed and swaddled in a warm blanket.

Eventually, the doctor and Becca step out, giving us privacy. The room falls quiet except for the soft cries of our son as he nestles against my chest. Damien sits on the edge of the bed, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, pulling us both into the circle of his strength. He strokes our son’s tiny back with one hand, his other hand clasping mine.

I look up at him through my tears, and the words fall from my lips without thought. “I have never been happier in my life.”

He presses his lips to mine, slow and tender, then leans to kiss our son again. “Neither have I,” he answers.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

DAMIEN

Three Years Later

Lyra knocks lightly on my office door, but she doesn’t wait for my answer. She never does. I used to punish men for interrupting me so casually, but Lyra knows she never has to wait for me. I’m always happy to see her.

She’s wearing the expression I know too well, a look of satisfaction after finishing something complicated, with the glow of a job well done. She leans down and kisses me, just a brush of lips, but I can taste the smile she’s holding back.

“I finally finished the software update,” she announces. “Everything should be running smoother now. No glitches, no lag. You might even get fewer panicked calls from the systems team for once.”

I smirk, tugging her closer until she ends up perched on the edge of my desk.

“You make it sound like you didn’t just pull off something most companies would need a team of twenty to manage.”

She shrugs, modest as always, though her eyes shine. “Well, I did have a little help.”

My hand settles on her thigh, squeezing once. “Without you, Integrated Systems would be limping along. Take the credit every once in a while.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t argue. She’s learned I do not flatter for the sake of it.

“Fine,” she says, tilting her head. “But I want more than just credit. I want us to go on a vacation.”

I can’t help but remember our first one, that private island where she first saw who I really was. Everything changed between us there. We went to the same island for our honeymoon, leaving Damien Jr.with her sister and spending the entire week naked on the beach.

“The island?” I ask. “It’s been too long since we watched the sun come up from that beach.”

She grins, shaking her head. “As tempting as that sounds, I was thinking more about the little one. Junior would be bored out of his mind with just sand and waves. He needs trees to try and climb, trails to explore, something that burns that endless energy.”

Her words paint a picture of our son running ahead on a path, hair flying, laughter echoing. I can see it as clearly as if he’s already there.

“There’s the cabin in the mountains,” I suggest. “He’d have plenty of fresh air, space to run, and no one for miles. He’ll be too tired to protest bedtime.”

She laughs, leaning down to kiss me again. “Exactly what I was thinking. The cabin it is.”

The kiss lingers, sweeter this time. Her hand slips across my chest before she eases back. She stands, pulling her bag over her shoulder, and then her hand rests on the small swell of her belly. She’s showing just enough now for me to notice the curve, and it makes my chest tighten the way it did the first time.

“This little one needs some fresh mountain air too,” she says softly.

My eyes follow the line of her hand, my thoughts already moving to the image of a daughter wrapped in pink blankets, tiny fingers curling around mine. The idea that our family is about to grow again fills me with the same awe it did when she first told me she was pregnant three years ago.

“I agree,” I murmur, standing to kiss her forehead. “We’ll give her the best air there is.”