Damien (Stark Trilogy 6) - Page 30

He actually laughed. Even though it felt as if a fist was squeezing his chest, a strangled laugh bubbled out. “Yes,” he said, because everything she said—every word, every syllable—was an echo of his thoughts.

She brushed his forehead with kisses. “Talk to me.”

“Christ, baby, what do you want me to say?”

She shrugged. “The truth.”

The truth. “Hell, where do I even start?”

“The beginning?”

He met her eyes, nodding. “That would be you.”

“Me?”

“And Dallas. I saw you that night on stage. A beautiful woman in an elegant dress. And I wanted you so damn bad. And I got you. Because you’re what I wanted, I made it happen. You’re mine, Nikki, because I wanted you to be.”

“I think I might have played a small role.”

“Maybe.” He allowed her a half-smile before continuing. “But this…” Christ, it was hard to even get the words out. “Baby, I don’t know if we’ll ever find this guy. Not ever. And the force of my will isn’t worth shit. I can’t just make it happen. I can’t make it be over, the bad guy caught, our family safe, simply because that’s the way I want it to be.”

Her brow furrowed as she studied him. “You said this was about me,” she whispered. “Damien, do you think I’m under some illusion here? You’re a force of nature, sure, but I don’t expect you to beat back the storm.” She clutched his hand. “What I need to know is that you’ll be there to help me weather it. You’re my strength, Damien. But that doesn’t mean you have to be strong all the time.”

“You cut, baby,” he said again. “The man we thought was behind Anne’s kidnapping was shivved. And a woman I trusted—who I let back into our lives—trashed your office. Jesus, Nikki, why the hell would you ever trust me again?”

“Do you think my trust in you is that fragile? That it’s illusory? Do you really believe that learning there’s another kidnapper erases everything? It doesn’t. Or that what Sofia did makes it all just go away? No way. Not even close. I trust you, Damien. I have from the moment I met you. You know that.”

She pressed her palm over his heart. “You know it here, and don’t tell me that’s not true, because I’ll know that you’re lying. But if you want me to prove it, I will. Anything you want, any way you want it. Do you want to take me to Masque and strip me bare in the living room? Fuck me in front of all the other guests at the club? Do you want to take me to one of the clubs where Ryan takes Jamie? Whatever you want, Damien. Anything you want. I’ll go as far as you want to take me, and I’ll always trust you to bring me back again.”

Dear God, she filled him up. He looked at her, feeling as if he would burst with love for her. Need for her. Gently, he cupped her face, then slowly moved his hands down, stroking her breasts, teasing her nipples, watching her face flush and her lips part.

Lower and lower until he cupped her sex, then stroked her gently as his fingers grew more and more slippery.

“Damien.” Her voice was heavy with passion, so heated it made his cock ache.

“I thought about a portrait,” he whispered.

Her eyes had fluttered shut, but now she looked at him, confusion on her face.

“That trust you said you’d prove to me. I thought I might want a portrait of you.”

“I think you have one. You paid a pretty penny for it.”

“Mmm, no. I mean a photograph. I thought Wyatt could take it. One of his erotic images. You, naked. Your legs spread wide, your fingers dancing over your clit. And your eyes looking straight into the camera, bold and sexy as hell.”

“Oh.” She licked her lips. “That’s what you want?”

“For me,” he said. “A portrait of my wife just for me.”

“Okay.” The word was soft, but the thrill of it spread through him.

“Okay?” he repeated.

She swallowed. “Call him now. He’ll make the time for you. He’d come over in a heartbeat.”

“He probably would. You’d agree to that?”

She nodded. “I told you. I trust you.”

“And I love you,” he said, then kissed her, slow and sensual, his fingers teasing her sex in time with the motion of his tongue. “So no.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “It’s a nice fantasy, but no. Wyatt’s a friend. It would be too strange for you. I think that crosses a line.”

He watched as relief washed over her. “And that, Mr. Stark, is why I trust you.”

She started to unbutton his shirt as he let his hands roam free over her naked body. “Tell me, are there candles in the bedroom, too?”

“There are.”

“In that case, I think it’s time I made love to my wife.”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes looking deep into his. “I absolutely think it is.”

Chapter Twenty-two

“This is excellent,” Quincy was saying to Bree when Damien crossed the open area Monday morning, Lara clinging to his back like a monkey.

“What’s excellent?” Nikki asked, putting a wriggling Anne down and aiming her toward the kitchen.

“Choca-pipcakes!” Lara squealed as Damien disentangled her, and Moira reached for her.

“Those are excellent,” Damien agreed. “But I think Mommy was talking about something else.”

“For bekfast, Daddy. Please? Choca-pipcakes!”

“Give Mommy and Daddy a minute with Miss Bree and Mr. Quincy, and we’ll see.”

“Come on, girls,” Moira said. “We can get all the ingredients ready for your daddy.”

“Pipcakes?” Quincy asked, once the chaos had settled and Damien and Nikki were able to cross to his workstation.

“A rare delicacy. Although not even close to bangers and mash or blood sausage.”

“Insult my heritage and I won’t share Bree’s good news. Actually, I won’t share it anyway. I’ll let her do that. Bloody brilliant detective work, first time out of the gate, too.”

Bree’s cheeks bloomed pink from the praise, but she sat up straight, the picture of professionalism. “My parents always gave me grief for spending too much time on the phone in high school, but I developed some mad skills, and I’ve been living on the phone all weekend.”

“I’m guessing it paid off?”

“Well, I think so. It’s only—”

“A lead,” Quincy said. “Our first, but not only,” he added as Ollie walked up.

“One of Rory’s coworkers told me about a girl he was fostered with for a while. I don’t know her name, but I guess he really cared about her. Not romantically, I don’t think. But like a sister. Again, I don’t know exactly what was between them. But this coworker—Dan—said he was sure Rory sent her money a few times. And it may have been a regular thing. This is all gossip, right? But I figure if he’s sending her money maybe there’s a blackmail thing going on? Something that happened with him and her back when they were both fostered?”

“I’m going to see if I can get the record of his foster homes and foster siblings through channels,” Ollie said. “And if not, I figure Ryan should be able to manage to get the records.”

“It may not turn into anything,” Bree said, her shoulders rising. “But—”

“It’s excellent work,” Damien said. “Exactly the kind of detail that lead to answers.”

“Absolutely.” Beside him, Nikki squeezed his hand. “Great work,” she said, then stood to answer the house phone.

“It’s Edward,” she said a moment later, handing Damien the handset. “And Abby’s here. She’s heading in and wants to see both of us. Good work again, Bree,” she said as she headed for the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

“Did Sofia get away okay?” Damien asked his driver as he shot Nikki a thumbs-up.

“That’s why I’m calling, Mr. Stark. I’m with Mr. Howser, the security that Mr. Hunter assigned, and it appears that she left the suite through the maintenance and housekeeping entrance off the kitchen while he was

in the living area. We think she left right before I arrived, but we haven’t been able to locate her.”

Shit. “Thank you, Edward. I’ll let Mr. Hunter know. Tell Howser to stay put.”

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked as Nikki and Abby approached.

“Sofia,” Damien said. “She gave Howser the slip.”

As Ryan cursed and stepped away, his phone in his hand, Damien pulled out his own phone. He dialed her number, not surprised when it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit, Sofia,” he murmured as he opened the tracking app she’d agreed to months ago that would let him see the location of her phone. Nothing.

“She turned off her phone.” Not that he was surprised. Sofia was far from stupid. If she wanted to run, she certainly wouldn’t want to be tracked.

Quincy came over. “What happened? Is she okay?”

Tags: J. Kenner Stark Trilogy Billionaire Romance
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