My exuberant purpose fades a little when the elevator doors open not on the office, but into Stark’s Tower Apartment. Suddenly I feel a little intimidated.
I consider staying in the elevator and pushing the alarm button until the opposite set of doors open, but I don’t go through with it. Instead, I step out into the apartment and take a deep breath. As I do, the elevator doors close behind me.
My breath hitches, and I turn and press the call button again, feeling suddenly, weirdly nervous.
The doors don’t open.
Apparently, I’ll be staying here until Stark returns.
Right. Okay. No problem.
I’ve been here once, so I head on in, then grab myself a Diet Coke out of the refrigerator behind the wet bar. I take it into the living area and try to sit and wait, but I can’t. I’m up and pacing in seconds, too full of nerves and anger to sit still.
I know I shouldn’t, but I explore the apartment. Then again, why the hell shouldn’t I? Stark knows all sorts of shit about me. At the very least, I want to know what his bedroom looks like.
I’m surprised when I find it, and yet I’m not. It’s a simple room. One wall showcases a low wooden dresser with clean lines and recessed pulls. Another wall is dominated by a pair of elegant French doors that open onto a bathroom. As is Damien’s style, a third wall is made entirely of windows looking out over the expanse of Los Angeles. The fourth wall features a bed.
Unlike the bed in the Malibu house, this one has no frame. It’s low to the ground and is made up with crisp white sheets. A deep blue blanket is tossed across it, but other than that there is no spread or cover. There are two pillows, also encased in white. And although there is no headboard per se, a section of the wall has been paneled in what looks like a deep mahogany. It acts as a faux headboard and ensures that the bed is the room’s focal point.
It’s simple and elegant and yet there’s something a little sad about the room. It’s like a mask, I think. Revealing only what Damien wants to be revealed.
I wonder what women he’s brought here, and then I shiver a little, because I have not been one of them and somehow, that makes me feel special.
“Nikki?”
I jump. I’d been so preoccupied I hadn’t registered his approach. I turn to face him. He’s leaning casually against the hallway wall. He’s in suit trousers, but he’s removed the jacket and tie, and the first two buttons of his shirt are undone. He looks deliciously sexy, and I want to slap him for distracting me from my purpose.
I don’t speak, and I see the concern edge onto his face. “Is everything okay? What’s happened?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Bruce?”
His brows rise. He actually looks surprised by the question. “What should I have told you?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Shit, Damien, you’re the reason I got the offer.”
“I pulled strings so that Bruce knew you were in the market,” he says sharply. “But that’s it. You got it because you’re damn good at what you do. Because your credentials are stellar. Because you’re smart and hardworking and you deserve it.”
I cock my head and look at him, because that is a load of bullshit. “And how exactly do you know all that about me? From watching me pose naked? From fucking me?”
“I see you, Nikki.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s because you’ve been looking for such a long time.”
His eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”
“At Evelyn’s party, for one. You were so pissed at me for being Carl’s assistant. You gave a better rundown of my credentials than I could. How did you know so much about me? It wasn’t in my fellowship file. So how, Damien?”
“I’ve followed your academic career. I’ve talked with your professors. I’ve watched you blossom.”
“I—” He’s knocked me off kilter with the matter-of-fact nature of his confession. “But why?”
He says nothing.
“Damien, why?” I hear panic creep into my voice.
“Because I want you,” he finally says, and the heat in his voice curls through me so vividly that the panic fades and I have to force myself to concentrate. “I have since I met you at the pageant.”
My mind is spinning. “But—but why not say something back then?”
His small smile gives away nothing. “I can be a very patient man when the goal is worth waiting for.”
“I—” I don’t know what to say. My mind is spinning with questions. I want to ask why he’s so certain I’m worth it, but the best I can manage is, “Why me?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “I told you that, too. We’re kindred spirits. And you’re strong, Nikki. There’s a core of strength and confidence in you that’s damn sexy.”
I don’t meet his eyes. As he always does, he understood the heart of my question. “Have you not noticed the scars?” I ask. “I’m not strong, I’m weak.” And I can’t shake the fear that it’s because I’m weak that he wants me. Damien likes to be the one in control, after all.
“Weak?” He’s staring at me like I’ve gone a little crazy. “The hell you are. You’re not weak, Nikki. You’re powerful. You’re a survivor. When I hold you, I can feel the power in you. It’s like holding a live wire.”
He moves closer, then cups my face gently in his palm. “That’s why I want you, baby. I’m not weak, either. Why would I want a woman who is?”
I tremble. He sees in me what I find so attractive in him. Power. Confidence. Ability.
But are those really my traits, or is he only seeing the Nikki I show the world? Or is that Nikki part of me, too?
“You know so much about me, and I hardly know you,” I say. “Do you know this is the first time I’ve even seen your bedroom?”
“There’s not much to see.”
“That’s not the point.” I tilt my head to look up at him, and find his eyes fixed hard on my face.
“Nikki, I need to know that we’re okay.”
I have to fight not to nod. I so desperately want everything to be okay between me and Damien. But it’s going to take more than just wants and wishes. “Will you try?” I ask. “Try to share more with me?”
“I’ve shared more with you than I have with any woman,” he says.
I think about what he’s told me about his dad and his tennis career. “I know. I just—I just really want to know you. Does that make sense?” I don’t say that I know he has secrets in his past; it is those secrets I want him to share. I force myself to smile brightly. “Unlike some people, I don’t have the resources to find out on my own.”