A Billionaire for Christmas

“Do you?”

I sigh as we step into the tiny metal rail car, facing each other. It was made for toddlers, so Ollie holds Anne on his lap.

“And that’s why we’ve stayed friends for so long,” I tell him. “You know me so well.” Ollie and I grew up together, so he knows me better than anyone except Jamie. And Damien, of course.

“You think that since he left when you were a kid, then didn’t offer you a shoulder during the kidnapping, that he’s disappearing on you again. Telling himself he doesn’t know how to be a dad.”

Once again, I shrug.

“He might be. But there is a strike in Mexico, and it’s not like he has superpowers. Just because he can’t get here doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to be here.”

“I know all that,” I admit. “But I can’t help feeling melancholy.”

“I get that. But try and cut the guy some slack.”

“Fair enough,” I say, then reach to take my little girl. “You’re lucky,” I tell her. “Your Uncle Ollie is a pretty smart guy.”

Anne grins and accepts Ollie’s high-five with a giggle. She’s delighted enough with the train that we end up riding it twice. I don’t mind. With his new job at the FBI, Ollie is busier than usual, and with my own business and two little girls, my limited free time is mostly earmarked for Damien. So this is a nice escape for us.

Even so, I’m happy to see Damien waiting for us as we step off the train. He crouches down, then scoops up Anne when she throws herself into his arms.

“Damien. Good to see you.”

“Ollie.”

I frown, surprised by the tension in Damien’s voice. Ollie and Damien have never been buds—I’m the point of contention between them—but Ollie was a huge help during and after the kidnapping, and the frost between them had mostly melted.

At least, I thought it had.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Sorry, Ollie,” Damien says. “Do you mind if I speak to my wife alone?”

“Of course,” he says, but his eyes look to me for confirmation. I nod, and he leaves, his hands shoved into his pockets and his posture tense.

“What is it?” I ask, moving toward him. “Is this to do with the security breach? Jamie said something about a plant in Asia?”

He hesitates only a moment, then says, “I’m going to need to leave in a couple of hours. I’m so sorry, baby. It can’t be helped.”Chapter Seven“Seriously?” I snap the moment we’re alone again. It’s been over an hour since Damien dropped his bombshell, and no way was I going to explode in front of the kids. But now that they’re in the kitchen with Gregory getting a quick dinner before an early bedtime, I’m picking up exactly where we let off.

“Nikki, baby. Calm down.”

“Do not tell me to calm down.”

We’re in our bedroom, the doors closed, and Damien is already opening drawers and pulling things out to pack.

“It’s Christmas, Damien. December twenty-second. Little girls. Hot chocolate. Cookies for Santa. It’s a Wonderful Life. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

He slams down his toiletry kit, frustration rolling off him in waves. He takes a deep breath, then turns to clutch my shoulders. “Mean anything? Baby it means everything. Don’t you know that?”

“How can I when you’re leaving?”

He closes his eyes, looking more miserable than I’ve seen him since Anne was taken.

“Nikki, please. I’ll be home in time for the recital. I promise. But there are people—” He hesitates, as if he just can’t find the words. “My people,” he continues. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to make it right for them for Christmas.”

I swallow, my eyes brimming. I imagine assembly-line workers who need whatever crisis this is fixed. Teams gathered to try to avert a crisis, but not able to make it happen without Damien there to make the absolute final call.

And, yes, I know he has people under him. People with power whom he trusts. But at the end of the day, Stark International and all its subsidiaries are his, and that’s a responsibility he takes seriously.

More than that, his passion for his work and his skill at building his empire are at the core of who he is, and I can’t separate those traits from the man I love.

So, yes, I understand it.

But, dammit, I don’t have to like it.

I sniff, then wipe away a runaway tear. “I understand, I do. But how can you say you’re going to be back in time? Asia is a really long way away.”

He shakes his head. “No, there’s a problem in Asia, but it’s not the one I have to deal with.” He reaches out and cups my cheek, his eyes as soft as his touch. “Sweetheart, this is a fast turn-around. I leave now, I should be home by tomorrow evening. An entire day before Christmas Eve. I know I’m missing out on family time, but you have to trust me. I wouldn’t go if it weren’t important.”