Interview with the Billionaire Read online

  “Plus, according to Evelyn, the article will be a reminder of how young I still am compared to how much I’ve accomplished.”

  “Oh, good,” Nikki said. “I’m so relieved.”

  He frowned. “Relieved?”

  “Well, while I think the tiny bit of gray at your temple is sexy as hell, I was starting to worry that you were over the hill.”

  He laughed. “Careful, wife.”

  “Now that I know better,” she continued airily, “I can don’t have to worry about choosing between Sven or Tarlton for at least another decade.”

  “I thought it was Terence.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Who can keep them all straight?”

  “Definitely looking for a spanking…”

  Her smile was pure sin. “Only a spanking, Mr. Stark?”

  “God, I love you.”

  Once again, she wrapped her arms around his waist, then rose on her toes to brush a kiss over his lips. “I promise you, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

  “I really am sorry. But obviously this is time-sensitive. According to Evelyn, they’re saving space in the layout. The next issue of the magazine is scheduled to release on my birthday.”

  “Guess I know what I’ll be getting you,” she said, as they headed toward the sofa.

  “You really don’t mind?” He sat, then tugged her onto his lap.

  “I’m disappointed, but the resort’s not going anywhere. Other than that, you’re the one on the hot seat.”

  He cleared his throat. “Actually, about that…”

  Her brows rose as he trailed off. “Mmm-hmm?”

  “Apparently this reporter is hoping to spend the weekend with us. I thought we could put her up in the bungalow. She’s a photographer, too, so just her. But she does want to interview family and friends as well. And get photos of us and the house.”

  “Family?”

  He heard the tightness in her voice. “I already told her no interviews or pictures of the kids. One family photo if you’re okay with that, then we send them off to Jackson and Sylvia’s just like we planned.”

  They’d had a no-publicity policy about their kids from the time they’d adopted Lara, but after Anne’s kidnapping, they’d become even more diligent. Now, Nikki nodded slowly. “One family photo should be fine so long as we choose the location and can veto the image.” She drew a breath. “All right. I guess you can tell Evelyn we’re in.”

  “Next weekend for the resort?”

  “That, Mr. Stark, is a date.” She slid off his lap, then held out her hand to him. He took it and stood. “We should go rescue Bree. You’re still getting in the pool with us?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “So who’s the reporter?”

  “Maggie Bridge. Apparently she does a lot of celebrity interviews. I’m not familiar with her, but Evelyn says she’s the real deal.”

  “She’d have to be. Evelyn wouldn’t let anyone else get close to you.”

  “No. She wouldn’t.” He hesitated at the top of the stairs. He’d been living in a publicity spotlight since the day he won his first tennis match. That combined with the star-power that came with the success of Stark International had made him comfortable giving interviews, and he knew how to position himself for the press.

  None of that meant that he liked it, and that was especially true when the publicity machine ventured into his personal life.

  “Second thoughts, Mr. Stark?”

  “And third and fourth.”

  “We’ll be fine. You’ll wrap that reporter around your little finger, and my chops with the press aren’t too shabby, either.”

  She was right about that. Not only did she have press experience from years on the pageant circuit, but her public revelations about her history with cutting, the press and publicity for Fairchild Development, and the simple fact that she was his wife and the press wouldn’t stay away had all come together to make Nikki comfortable in front of a camera. That’s not to say she sought it out, but she could definitely handle herself.

  “Of course, we’ll be fine,” he said, taking her hand as they descended the stairs. “What can touch us, so long as we’re together?”

  Damien’s Journal

  10th Birthday

  Dear Mom:

  It’s my birthday. I’m ten today, and I miss you. I wish I could call you or send you a letter. I know I can’t. So I’m talking to you in my journal instead. I don’t know if you can read this. I hope you can. I miss you so much.

  * * *

  You told me to be strong. I’m trying to. Really. But it’s super hard.

  * * *

  It was easier at first because I did what you said about playing tennis when I was sad or scared or angry or just missing you. I loved it so much. The game. Hitting the ball, and making it go where I wanted.

  * * *

  And winning.

  * * *

  Guess what? You were right. It helped. With the missing you, I mean. And the more I played, the more I loved it.

  * * *

  After you left, I started playing in tournaments. And Mr. Lang--do you remember my gym coach when I was 8? Anyway, he started practicing with me after school. But then he couldn’t anymore, but he got me into a summer tennis camp even though Dad said we couldn’t afford it because there wasn’t money left. But Mr. Lang talked to Coach Sanders. He’s a pro who works at the tennis center, and he said that he’d coach me. And he did for almost an entire year.

  * * *

  It was so awesome.

  * * *

  I’d play all day, and then wait in the building with my books until Dad picked me up.

  * * *

  Oh—I forgot to tell you. I just finished I, Robot. You were right. It was really good. I want to read Stranger In a Strange Land, but the lady at the library said I’m not old enough. I’m gonna bike to the bookstore and buy it anyway. I have enough allowance saved up, so Dad doesn’t have to know.

  * * *

  And one of the people who volunteers at the sport center teaches high school physics. I asked him if I could mow his lawn, and he’d teach me instead of pay me.

  * * *

  He said I wasn’t old enough, but I told him I was. You said so one time, and I told him that. So he said he’d give me a test, and he asked me a bunch of questions about Newton and quantum stuff and electromagnetic forces and all sorts of stuff that wasn’t hard at all.

  * * *

  I told him so, too. I don’t think he believed me, but then he read all my answers, and he said that he’d spend an hour with me three times a week and on Saturdays, too, if we had time.

  * * *

  We did that for three months, and it was so awesome.

  * * *

  But then about six months ago, everything changed.

  * * *

  Dad changed it.

  * * *

  The thing is, Mom, I hate him.

  * * *

  I hate my father.

  * * *

  I hate Jeremiah Stark.

  * * *

  And I hate Merle Richter, too. I know I shouldn’t say so, but I do.

  * * *

  I. Hate. My. Father. And. Merle Richter.

  * * *

  It feels really good to say that.

  * * *

  Do you already know what happened? Do you even know who Coach Richter is?

  * * *

  This is what happened:

  Dad heard Coach Sanders telling someone I had potential. And then right after I turned nine, I won a tournament for kids in SoCal—isn’t that cool? I beat all the others and got a trophy and a check, too, for a hundred dollars.

  * * *

  Dad let me keep the trophy, but he took the money.

  * * *

  I didn’t care. Not much. But I wanted to celebrate with Coach.

  * * *

  But do you know what Dad did? He fired Coach Sanders the very next day.

  * * *
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  Does that even make sense?

  * * *

  I mean, Coach was good, right? But Dad fired him. And then he hired Coach Richter.

  * * *

  I hate him.

  * * *

  I hate him so much I want to quit. He says I can’t. He says it’s good for me, but I think it’s because I won money. Dad likes money. And I’ve won more, too. He keeps it all.

  * * *

  The game isn’t fun anymore. Mom, he pretty much ruined last year. I wish you were here instead of him.

  * * *

  The only good thing is that Coach has a daughter. Her name’s Sofia, and she’s nice. She’s terrible at tennis, but we have fun. So I guess that’s something.

  * * *

  And I’ve been in a bunch of newspapers. I guess that tournament was a big deal. Winning’s fun. So is seeing my picture in magazines and the paper and stuff. But it’s weird, too. Like I’m a circus animal, you know? Doing tricks.

  * * *

  Coach Richter says we’re going to go big. I don’t know what that means, but I overheard him talking to Dad. I think they’re going to pull me out of school. I don’t want them to. If you were here, he wouldn’t. You wouldn’t let him.

  * * *

  I wish you were here.

  * * *

  I wish he’d died and not you, and I don’t even care if I’m not supposed to say stuff like that.

  * * *

  Anyway, that’s me. I guess I mostly wanted to say that Dad’s a jerk. But I think you already knew that.

  * * *

  P.S. Dad found out about the physics stuff and now I can’t do that anymore. I know I’m not supposed to hate my dad, but I do. I wish I didn’t. I wish I had a different dad.

  * * *

  I close my eyes, just soaking up the feel of him. It’s more potent than coffee, and if I could bottle this sensation, I’d be richer than my husband.

  * * *

  - Seduce Me

  Chapter 2: Countdown

  Damien’s phone vibrated, and he checked the text, then frowned. “She’s here,” he said to Nikki, who was still in her robe at the table in the third floor kitchen.

  “Here?” She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “She’s a full fifteen minutes early.”

  “I could leave her in the drive, but I don’t think that Evelyn would approve of that first impression to someone who’s writing about us.”

  “You’re the one who was a master of the universe in his twenties. I could take the kids away for the weekend. Leave you to the barrage of personal questions. She might have said family, but we both know this article is really about you.”

  He heard the tease in her voice, but there was nothing teasing when he took her hands, then met her eyes.

  “How could she possibly write about me, but not about you? You’re as much a part of me as my blood. As the air I breathe.”

  He watched as her eyes went soft, then turned sharp with humor. “In other words, you don’t want to deal with this by yourself.”

  “Not even in the slightest.”

  “I guess I’ll stay, then.” She moved closer, her hands going around his waist as she tilted her head back for a kiss. “I’ll go finish getting dressed. Will you make sure Bree has the kids looking presentable? When’s Jackson’s crew coming?”

  “In about an hour,” Damien said.

  “Perfect. That’s about when Jamie said she and Ryan and Ollie would get here. We need to get Evelyn and Frank to come, too,” she added, referring to her once-estranged father, who just happened to be Evelyn’s new husband.

  “Family day,” he said, and she grinned.

  “Even if it’s for a reporter, it’s nice to have family under the roof.”

  “It is,” he said. As far as he was concerned, Jamie and Ryan were definitely family. Ryan was as close to him as a brother, and Jamie and Nikki had been like sisters since childhood.

  As for Ollie…

  Damien had come a long way with the third in the Nikki-Jamie-Ollie musketeer troupe, and while he genuinely liked the guy now, he didn’t rank Ollie in their first circle of friends and family.

  His wife did, though. And that meant Damien would, too. Even if Ollie was a sometimes-prick who used to be in love with Nikki, and might still be.

  Then again, Damien could hardly blame him.

  “Did I lose you?” Nikki’s forehead creased as she peered up at him.

  “Just thinking about logistics,” he lied. “I thought we could let this reporter—Maggie—get her photos early, and then Jackson and Syl can whisk the kids away. I imagine Ryan’s crew will join them.”

  She laughed. “Am I a bad person for being very, very jealous of them and the kids?”

  “If you are, then so am I,” he admitted.

  She released a dramatic sigh. “The price you pay for being so damn important. And I pay it just from loving you.”

  He kissed her again, this time his hands sliding inside her robe. “Too steep?”

  “Never, Mr. Stark,” she said, then moaned softly as his hands cupped her bare ass under the robe. “But if you want this interview to stay businesslike, you might want to stop that. Unless you want them to hold her at the gate for an hour.”

  “I’m sure we could manage faster than that,” he said, making her laugh even as she backed away from him.

  “I’ll take you up on that later, Mr. Stark. In the meantime,” she continued as the doorbell chimed, “you should probably go greet our guest. It’s almost time for the Damien Stark Show.”

  Damien’s Journal

  Ollie

  The bottom line is that I’m the asshole.

  * * *

  Then again, so is Ollie McKee.

  * * *

  But tonight was mostly on me. Still, she’s mine, dammit.

  * * *

  Nikki.

  * * *

  The woman I’ve yearned for since the first moment I saw her. A woman with whom I’d connected instantly, as if we’d known each other forever. I couldn’t have her then in Texas—we’d had to wait six years to find each other again—but now that we have, she is mine. I’ve claimed her.

  * * *

  Hell, I love her.

  * * *

  But so does fucking Ollie McKee.

  * * *

  And even though I know that Nikki only thinks of him as a friend, I made an ass of myself. Hell, I put myself—and my temper—on display at The Rooftop, a club for fuck’s sake. And won’t that be all over the tabloids tomorrow?

  * * *

  Frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t punch him. God knows he deserves it, abusing his position at the firm. Digging into my business. Yes, he deserved it. And the only reason I’ve cut him any slack is that I know he’s only looking out for her. That wins him a pass. One pass.

  * * *

  But I did embarrass Nikki. More than that, she thinks I came because I didn’t trust her. I do. I don’t trust Ollie, but I trust Nikki without reservation. But trust wasn’t even the heart of it.

  * * *

  Dammit. The idea of hurting her—of causing her any pain—is enough to destroy me. And yet it was my own damn temper—no, jealousy—leading the show. Sending me hurtling across town simply so I could see her. Could pull her into my arms.

  * * *

  Could assure myself that she was still mine.

  * * *

  Millions at my fingertips and an entire empire at my command, and when it comes to Nikki, I lose myself completely. It makes sense, I suppose. Because I would be lost without her.

  * * *

  I think I was before.

  * * *

  No, I’m sure of it.

  * * *

  And the miracle is that she feels the same.

  * * *

  I know that none of this is Ollie’s fault, but I hate knowing he’s held her. Comforted her. And yet at the same time, I’m so grateful that he was there when she was in pain. I may have been the one who kicked t
hat asshole Kurt to the curb, but it was Ollie who held her after Kurt hurt her. I am so grateful to him for that. And yet I will resent him until eternity.

  * * *

  I’m not jealous of Jamie. I shouldn’t be jealous of him. He’s just a friend. From Nikki’s side, anyway.

  * * *

  But I see the truth. He’s in love with her. I think he has been for years. And for that alone, I feel sorry for him. Because I know what it’s like to love her and not have her.