Page 67 of Daigo

"You're my wife, and I am the head of this house. You're not stepping foot out of here dressed like that! I can see through the damn material. What the hell were you thinking?"

Marching over to him, she shoved him in the chest, eyes blazing. "I'm thinking that I got back my figure after carrying three babies inside me. I'm thinking that I have a right to dress however I want and not have some idiot tell me how to do so. Now, are we leaving or not?"

"Not," he told her grimly. "I'm not going anywhere with you dressed like that."

She stared in shock as he shrugged out of his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"Undressing. We're not going anywhere." To prove it, he dug out his phone and placed a call.

"Yes, Dryden." Forcing a pleasant note into his voice, he continued. "I apologize for the late notice, but the children need our attention." He nodded. "I'm very happy you understand." He glanced over at her. "I will pass on your regards to my lovely wife. Thank you."

"You- you! Oh!" She screamed and stamped her foot. "You bastard."

"I'll be in the nursery," he told her coldly. He had not gotten to the door when he barely missed being creamed by a six-inch glossy red leather shoe.

"And stay in there," she raged at him. "Don't even think about sharing this bed with me."

Turning his head to look at her for a minute, he wrenched open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

She fumed, pacing the length of the bedroom, before sitting on the edge of the bed. Rising, she slipped the shoes back on and was tempted to go without him. The nerve of the man! The goddamned nerve, treating her like a child.

Shoving off the bed, she started pacing. He had no idea what it felt like walking around with that huge belly, barely able to see her toes. She had worked hard for almost six months to get back her figure and was proud of her accomplishment. She had been getting lots of compliments from people she came across, and wide-eyed wonder at the fact that she could look this way after carrying three children.

So what if the dress was a little revealing? she fumed. She was proud of her figure and did not need some stuck-up Japanese prude to make her ashamed of it. The head of the household, indeed! She huffed. How dare he try to muzzle her, to control her? If he thought for one minute that she was going to be the meek little wife and toe the line, then he was definitely a fool. No one told her what to do, husband or no.

She was not a doormat, and it didn't matter that she loved him; she refused to be the traditional Japanese wife. She was not his mother. His mother might have been willing to meekly allow her husband to dictate her life, but that wasn't going to happen to her, Shelby decided on a fresh blaze of anger.

And if he didn't apologize and come groveling at her feet, he wasn't getting back into that bed. He could go and sleep in one of the guest rooms for all she cared. And she was standing her ground.

Whirling, she happened to catch sight of herself in the mirror. The light from the full moon filtered through the treated glass of the window. One hand flew to her throat as she saw exactly what her husband had. The material of the dress was so delicate, so fine and light, that it drifted around her from the one-strap shoulder to below her ankles.

That was what had attracted her to it in the first place: the way it shimmered and moved when she did. What she hadn't taken notice of was the transparency. She could see right through the material to the shape of her body. The black lace teddy she had on underneath was clearly evident, not just the shape, but the color and everything as well.

Sighing softly, she closed her eyes and realized that she owed her husband an apology. Damn him! she thought bitterly. She was going to be the one to grovel, because if she knew him, and she damn well did, he wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"All right, Shelby, let's get the anger under control and try and be humble." Shaking her head, she stepped back from the mirror. "Screw that! I'm marching right in there and demanding that he come to bed. But I'd better change first," she decided. "It won't do to remind him what had pissed him off in the first place."

*****

He was fast asleep. After all her efforts, the man was fast asleep. She stood just inside the room and gazed at him sprawled on the sleep chair, long legs hanging over the edge. He had taken off his white shirt and his shoes. Keira's pink stuffed elephant was cradled in his arm. Her expression softened as she took note of the dark hair falling over his forehead, giving him a boyish look.

Love for him flashed through her body like a rushing river, and she felt the last vestige of anger dissipating.

Walking over to Keira's cot, she stared at the baby, who was lying flat on her back, her chubby arms thrown wide on either side of her body. Her hair was no longer sparse but was straight and dark, just like her daddy's. They all looked like him, she thought with a smile, from the shape of the face and eyes to the texture of their hair. The two girls had her mouth, but nothing else.

And they were beautiful! It was not just a mother's prejudice. People had commented on their looks, and even now, photographers, including Brian, were still begging to feature them in magazines.

Pulling the blanket up over her, Shelby brushed back the hair from her forehead before going to check on Kaya. A soft chuckle escaped her when she peered down at her other daughter. She was on her stomach, with her little bottom pointing upward and her fingers curled into fists.

Daigo had commented that he could see the contrariness in her at this early age, and Shelby was starting to agree with him. Touching her fingers to the satiny cheek, she felt tears pricking her eyes. They were gifts from God, and she was never going to forget it. Nor was she going to forget that her husband had been there for her through it all.

She also recalled a promise they had made after they reconciled: never to go to bed angry with each other. That was a promise she intended to keep. Pulling the cover more securely around the baby, she turned away and moved to the sleep chair. As soon as she sat on the edge, his eyes flickered open, instantly alert.

"Are you coming to bed?" she asked quietly.

"I think I'm comfortable right here."