Damien: A Stark Novel (Stark Saga Book 6)

by J. Kenner

  He swallowed, but said nothing.

  “The world’s spinning away from us, and don’t tell me you’re handling it. Because I know you are. So am I. But it still hurts.”

  She kissed him lightly. “Add in that I cut and that the woman you suffered through your childhood with vandalized my office, and I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you’re having a whole series of pretty crappy days.”

  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 wan
ts 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?”

  “Sofia?” Abby said. “The girl who visited you at the office?”

  “The girl who tagged the office,” Damien said gravely as Abby’s mouth dropped open. He caught a glimpse of Quincy, whose expression was as dark as a building storm. “What?”

  Quincy just shook his head. And before Damien could ask what the hell that was about, he turned and walked away.

  Nikki slipped an arm around Damien’s waist. “She probably just didn’t want to be told what to do. Maybe she only wants to prove that you can’t control her completely. She’ll probably turn up tomorrow with an apology and tell you she got LA out of her system and is ready to go back to London.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I intend to find her before then.”

  “Already on it,” Ryan said as he returned. “I’ve got a team at the hotel looking at the security video in the elevators, stairwells, lobby, and garage. We’ll figure out where she went and in what type of transportation.”

  “I know you will.”

  “Damien—” Ryan’s voice was tight, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Howser’s actions weren’t up to standard, and that falls on me. It won’t happen again.”

  Damien looked at his friend, a man whose skill and attention to detail had not only put him on Damien’s radar all those years ago, but had formed the foundation of their friendship and Ryan’s rise in the company.

  He thought of all the mistakes he’d made himself since Anne’s kidnapping. The wrong choices, bad judgment calls, and misplaced faith. He’d be one hell of a hypocrite to bring Ryan down a notch for not having complete and total control over his men.

  “It’s okay, Ryan,” he said, intentionally using his friend’s first name. “I’ve never doubted your ability or your follow-through. I know you’ll handle it just fine.” He shifted his attention to Abby, dismissing Ryan’s apology as so much fluff, and saw the hint of a smile touch Ryan’s mouth. “Should we head to the kitchen where we can talk easier?”

  “Actually, I was hoping I could get everyone involved,” Abby said, looking around the room. “Or at least as many of you as are willing to help.”

  “We got the prototypes in,” Nikki explained, referring to the colorful, plastic encased GPS trackers that were the main feature of the upgrades rolling out soon as part of Fairchild & Partners’ Mommy’s Helper app.

  “We’ve done some tweaks to the refresh rate—Travis is brilliant, I have to say—and we’ve also added the step counter. Next iteration will include a passive listen-in, but we’re still working on the underlying tech.”

  “Listen in?” Bree said.

  “Yeah, so, like, if your kid is being bullied at school, you can actually stream the sound around them.”

  “That’s really cool.”

  Abby nodded, looking giddy. “I know, right?”

  “This app is Abby’s baby.” Nikki flashed Abby a pride-filled smile. “And she’s done an amazing job.”

  “I just want the roll-out to go smoothly, and I’m nervous. We have our beta testers lined up, but I want to use all of you as alpha testers for one particular issue we need to resolve. We’re having some addressing problems—showing the tracker one house over on the app’s map, for example, which would suck if you’re trying to figure out where little Johnny is.”

  She grimaced. “I know it’s a pain, but you just have to wear it on your waistband or bra for forty-eight hours. And keep your phone with you. The app won’t actually be useable yet—so don’t dump the kids at the Beverly Center and assume you can track them. You’ll only be able to see the location of your own tracker in the analytics app, but right now, that’s the only information I need.”

  She looked imploringly around the room. “Okay? Do you mind?”

  Ryan grinned at her, then smiled up at Jamie, who was coming in from taking a phone call outside. “We’re happy to, aren’t we, babe? And so are these guys,” he added, waving a hand at the tech team hunched over laptops as they crunched data.

  “I have no idea what we’re talking about, but sure.”

  “And you know Damien and I are in,” Nikki said, and he nodded agreement, then added, “I’m sure Quincy will be, too.”

  “And me,” said Bree. “And Moira and the kids. If you need more, I could ask Kari. The manager at Upper Crust. She’s coming over tonight with more muffins.”

  “You two are going to spoil us,” Nikki said. “Not that I’ll turn down her chocolate chip muffins.”

  “Who would?” Abby asked. “And yeah, that would be great. I’ll leave a few extras for her and anyone at the bakery who’s up to helping.” She glanced around the room, smiling. “Seriously, thanks. I’m just so nervous about this roll-out. Nikki can email everyone the link to download the analytics app and set up your account.”

  “It’s going to be terrific,” Nikki said, clipping the tracker to her waistband. “Eric’s all over the ad campaign?”

  Abby nodded. “We’re good. The PR team is coming to the office on Tuesday.”

  Nikki glanced at Damien, and he nodded, then attached his tracker as well. They were looking for a needle in a haystack, and while he wasn’t willing to scale back the hunt yet, there was no reason Nikki should miss her meetings. But until they found Sofia, he’d make sure that she went back and forth to work with two or three of Ryan’s best men.

  “I’ll be there,” she told Abby.

  “Great. And tomorrow night, right?” This time the question was directed at both Nikki and Damien.

  He shrugged, then glanced at Nikki, who looked equally clueless.

  “Dammit, this is my fault,” Abby said. “I meant to have Marge call you, but it must have slipped my mind.”

  “What’s going on?” Nikki asked.

  “Bijan is in town. He wants to meet for dinner.”

  “Oh.” Nikki’s eyes shot to Damien’s. “We can do that, right?”

  “Of course.” Bijan Kamali was one of the principals of Greystone-Branch, Nikki’s biggest client aside from Stark International. A client that had been hard won during the traumatic months surrounding her miscarriage. And Damien knew how much the continuing relationship with Greystone-Branch meant to Nikki. “When and where?” he asked Abby.

  “Oh, good.” The younger woman’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I was afraid I’d have to handle it. I’ll text you the time and place, okay? I’m guessing around seven.”

  “That’ll be fine,” Nikki assured her.

  “Okay. Um, do you want me there, too?”

  Damien bit back a smile as Nikki’s eyes widened. “Of course. We’re partners, right?”

  Abby’s face lit up. “I know. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real.”

  “It’s real,” Nikki said as she slipped her hand into Da
mien’s, “and I couldn’t do it without you.”

  * * * *

  “Not in the water, girls,” Damien called as he walked along the beach with Nikki’s hand in his, the girls running along in front of them.

  They’d pigged out on chocolate chip pancakes, and now both little girls were bundles of sugared-up energy.

  “This is nice,” Nikki said, swinging their hands as they walked. “I want answers, don’t get me wrong. But I miss having our house to ourselves.”

  “Do you want me to kick them out?” He could easily move the command center to Stark Tower, but he wanted to be involved. And if the team was in the Tower, he’d be living out of the apartment. And he wasn’t willing to live without Nikki and the kids, so…

  She started laughing.

  “What?”

  “You. You’re completely transparent.”

  His brows rose. “On the contrary. I have a reputation for being a killer in negotiations precisely because I’m unreadable. And I’m one hell of a poker player, too.”

  She pulled him to a halt and hooked her arms around him. “Maybe to everyone else. But I see you clearly, Mr. Stark.”

  “And thank God for that.”

  She tilted her mouth up to meet his, and he kissed her gently, then slid his arm around her waist. She sighed as he held her and they both stood there, watching the girls run along the surf’s edge, chasing waves and picking up shells.

  “I want normal again, Damien. I want it all back the way it was.”

  “It will be.”

  She nodded. “I think it will. This is going to sound crazy, but I feel like we’re making progress. Like the vandalism thing with Sofia.”

  He took a step back, studying her face. “You think Sofia had something to do with Anne?”

  She shook her head, and he exhaled, realizing in that moment how much he’d feared that she believed exactly that—and afraid that deep down he was weighing that possibility as well.

  “No, no. And I’m so angry at her for what she did to the office, and so sad for her as well—but it’s an answer, you know? Not about the kidnapping, but an answer.” She lifted a shoulder. “I figure that counts for something.”