"Me, too," I whisper, my pulse tripping.
"And, Nikki?" His mouth quirks in the sexiest of smiles. "This time we're taking it slow. Very, very slow."
"Why don't we take forever?" I ask, and I see the answering fire in his eyes. I see so much more, too.
I see our future.
And it is wonderful.
Chapter 10
"Merry Christmas, beautiful."
I'm still in that soft place between sleep and wakefulness, but I smile at the brush of Damien's lips against my ear and the low murmur of his voice rumbling through me.
Then the oddity of what he's saying strikes me. Merry Christmas? Not Happy New Year?
And why am I in a bed? For that matter, why don't I feel the vibration from the jet?
Slowly, I sit up, then look around, blinking and confused. It's our bedroom in the Lake Arrowhead house. And there's Damien sitting on the bed next to me, his expression so full of tenderness it makes me want to cry.
"Damien," I begin, then don't know what to say. "Damien, I--"
He shakes his head, then gently presses his fingertip to my lips. "I'm sorry. I should have said it last night, but I wanted you to sleep."
"Sorry?"
"For buying the condo. I shouldn't have."
I blink, and fat tears spill down my cheeks. "No." My voice feels raw. Thick. "No, this one's on me. I should never have gotten upset. It wasn't fair."
"You had every right to be annoyed. I overstepped. I moved in and took away something that you wanted to know you could accomplish yourself."
"But I do know that I could," I say. "I'm certain of it. Maybe it would have taken more time, maybe it would've been harder, but I know that I could do it." I think about the fact that a company like Stark International wanted to license my app even though I'd said no to Damien. Then I frown, because I didn't say no to Damien. He's here, and he's my husband, and I'm confusing my dream with my reality.
I shake my head a little to clear the lingering cotton from my mind. "My work's good, Damien. And I'd done the math. I had the resources to purchase, I just hadn't done it yet." I sit up straighter as I gather my thoughts. "Even if we'd never met--even if I'd never had your million as start-up money--I would have made it. Hell, I might have even licensed my web-based note-taking app to Stark International and made a small fortune. But the fact is that none of that matters, because it's not the point."
His brow furrows, and for a moment he looks confused. Then his expression clears and he takes my hands in his. "It is the point, because we did meet, and we are married, and I should have--"
I rise up on my knees, then lean in and kiss him, just to shut him up. "You got it, Mr. Stark. We are married. You're mine, and I'm yours, and there aren't any what-ifs that could change that. No matter what, we will always find each other. So what does it matter if I buy the condo or you do? That's just timing. The important part is us. And I think I forgot that last night, just for a little bit. I'm sorry."
"Oh, baby," he says. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"
"You know I do," I say, then lose myself in his long, slow kiss that makes me tingle all over, lighting me up just like a Christmas tree.
"It's early," he says when he breaks the kiss. "Barely dawn. But Ronnie'll be up soon, and I'd like us to do our presents first. Alone. Do you mind?"
I shake my head. "Of course not," I say, then slip on Christmas pajamas and a matching robe while Damien puts on green and red flannel pajama bottoms. I sit on the bed and watch him dress, enjoying the way the muscles in his chest and abs move as he slides on a plain white T-shirt. When his head appears again he's grinning. "Enjoying the view?"
"Enjoying my view," I retort.
He holds out his hand, and we move quietly into the great room. The world beyond the glass doors is still gray, with just the slightest hint of purple beginning to color the sky.
"I just got you the one," Damien says. "That was our deal, right?"
In light of Damien's resources, it seemed prudent to put a limit on the whole gift exchange thing, especially considering how many presents he buys me on a regular day. And, honestly, when I think about the trouble I had coming up with the pocket watch idea, I'm glad we limited the number of presents.
"You first," he says, handing me a small package that weighs next to nothing.
I shake it and tap it, but I have absolutely no guess as to what it could be, and so finally I just rip into the pretty red paper. I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor, and by the time I reveal the plain cardboard box beneath, there's a pile of paper and ribbon beside me.
"Any ideas?" he asks.
"Not even one." But since I really can't wait to find out, I open the box, then clap my hand over my mouth to hide an otherwise loud squeal when I see what's inside.
It's a Looney Tunes lunchbox. The very one that I coveted throughout my childhood. Except I don't remember ever telling him about it, at least not at any time that wasn't in a dream.
But surely I must have, because here it is, and I'm holding and touching it, and hugging it to my chest.
"Damien..."
"Open it," he orders, looking exceptionally pleased with himself.
I comply, and find what appear to be hundreds of little origami stars. I put my finger in and stir them around, then look up at Damien curiously.
"Pick one," he tells me. "Just one, then open it."
I do. It unfolds easily into a small strip of paper with tiny printed words. This one says Whatever you want, whatever you need.
I swallow a gasp and feel my eyes well with tears. "Oh my god, Damien."
He is grinning wide, clearly proud of himself. "One for every day this year."
"It's amazing." I lean forward and kiss him. "You're amazing."
"I often think so," he quips, and I have to laugh as he grabs the box I put under the tree for him. It's about the size of a laundry basket to camouflage the small present inside. "My turn," he says, then starts to tear off the paper, leaving at least as much of a mess as I did.
My stomach is in knots, and I wish I'd somehow managed something cleverer or more heartfelt than a simple pocket watch.
Damien opens the top of the cardboard box and peers inside, then sucks in a sharp breath. I roll my eyes, knowing he's being a goof, because all that's in there is crushed up wrapping paper until he gets to the tiny box at the very bottom. But then he reaches in, and it's not paper he pulls out--it's a teddy bear.
An old-fashioned bear with soft fur and jointed limbs and a little vest with a red kerchief.
I stare, completely flummoxed, because that is not what I wrapped. And yet there it is, the bear from my dream. And peeking out from the pocket, tucked in front of the kerchief, is the gold pocket watch.
"Nikki," he says, as he looks at the bear, touching it reverentially and smiling with what I can only assume are happy memories. "This is incredible."
He pulls out the watch and opens the case, then reaches for my hand when he sees the engraving:
N & D 4ever, inside a delicately drawn heart.
"It's perfect. All of it. The watch, the bear..." He trails off, looking away as his lips curve down into a soft frown, and I don't say a word, because I'm certain that I know what he's thinking.
I see it in his eyes when he turns back to me, and I know what he's going to say before the words leave his lips. "Baby, did we--"
"I think so," I answer, my voice a whisper. A chill tingles down my spine. "I don't know how, but--"
"The party. The movies? The walk down Hollywood Boulevard? But that was a dream." He meets my eyes. "Wasn't it?"
I press my fingers to his lips. I don't have an answer. And I say the only thing I can think of, giving him the only explanation I have. "Merry Christmas, husband."
He glances at the lunchbox. "I just don't understand--" He shakes it off and starts again. "It's not the most extravagant present ever."
"It's perfect," I say. "You know it's perfect. Besides. I already have e
verything I need."
I hook my arms around him, and let him pull me closer, so that I am warm and comfortable in his lap.
"So do I," he murmurs. "I have you."
As he kisses me, I think how true that is, and how we have each other, wholly and completely.
And soon we'll have a house full of friends and family, laughter and fun.
Yeah, I think, as I snuggle close. We really do have everything.
And it is most definitely the merriest of Christmases.
BY J. KENNER
The Stark Trilogy
Release Me
Claim Me
Complete Me
Stark Ever After Novellas
Take Me