Please Me (Stark Trilogy 4.2)

“I know, baby. But there’s only so much we can do. And we shouldn’t do anything until we hear about Bryson.”

I nod, then inspect my cuticles, uncertain how Damien’s going to take my next off-beat comment. “Fair enough. But either way, maybe the Stark Education Foundation could keep an eye on him. And if it looks like he needs it, maybe an anonymous grant could get floated the kid’s way?”

Gently, Damien tilts my chin up. “And that’s why we are what we are to each other,” he says softly. “Because we think alike.”

* * * *

The call from Quincy comes through when we’re out on the bay. Damien’s not an expert sailor, but he’s an advanced amateur, and since we wanted privacy, we rented our own boat instead of taking a chartered tour of the bay.

We’ve been on the water for about an hour, and now we’re anchored so that we can sit down to the picnic lunch we brought with us, the basket put together by the Stark Century Hotel kitchen.

“So tell me good news,” Damien says in lieu of a greeting when he answers the phone. This time it’s on speaker, so I can hear both sides.

“I have plenty to tell.” Quincy’s cultured voice is sharp and crisp. “Mr. Bryson is the father. I had the lab expedite the tests, and there’s no legitimate question.”

“That’s great news,” I say. “At least, it’s great if Bryson wants to be involved in the boy’s life.”

“He does indeed. So much that he’s started the ball rolling. He’s already preparing a petition asking the court to establish custody, and his attorney assures him his chances are great. He said to thank you for recommending Charles Maynard’s firm. He was surprised at how low the hourly fee is.”

I look at Damien, who shrugs as I rise up onto my knees, lean over, and kiss him.

“You’re a good man, Damien Stark,” I say once the call has ended. “I’m so lucky that you’re mine.” And I’m so happy that the world has shifted back to normal.

With a sigh, I scoot closer, settling in between Damien’s legs as he puts his arms around me. Our plan was to spend the entire day on the boat, have champagne at sunset and make love in the fading light, then fly home tonight so that we’re there tomorrow to have breakfast with the girls.

But now…

“Damien?” I twist in his arms so that I can see his face. “Would you do something for me?”

“You know I would, baby. Anything you want. Anything you need.”

“Could we go home now? I know we haven’t really gotten to enjoy San Francisco, but it’s not going anywhere. And honestly, I really want to see the girls.”

“Yeah,” he says with a tender smile. “I think that’s a great idea.” He bends and kisses my forehead. “Anything else?”

I consider the question, but then shake my head as I smile back at him. “You’ve already given me everything, Damien. Right now, all I want is for you to kiss me.”

And as the boat bobs on the waves, I melt into my husband’s embrace and lose myself in the sweet sensuality of his touch, his kiss, his everything, enjoying these last moments together before we’re on our way back to our house, our girls, our home.

* * * *