Claim Me: A Novel

little finger of irritation start to claw at me. I force myself to shake it off. I’m just sensitive because Giselle is suddenly, inexplicably in my orbit, what with Palm Springs and Tanner’s strange comment. And now past jealousies are poking up their little heads. But I don’t want to be that girl, and I smack down their green-eyed little faces.
    As Evelyn leads Jamie to Blaine, I head into the kitchen, planning to drop off my camera bag and continue to the closet.
    I don’t get that far, however, because as I’m hooking the Leica strap over my arm and putting the bag in one of the cabinets, I see Damien coming down the hallway from the bedroom area. I stop what I’m doing, and stand frozen, simply staring at him. He’s wearing pressed black pants and a collarless black jacket over one of the starched white shirts I love so well. It’s unbuttoned, and the open shirt paired with the jacket gives him the quality of a powerful rebel. He looks so breathtakingly sexy that I have a hard time believing that he is real, much less that he’s mine. On the contrary, he must be a fantasy that I have conjured. A dream in which I’m now living. A perfect dream from which I do not wish to wake.
    He’s holding his phone and speaking low, so that I can only make out a few words. But from his tone, I can tell that the subject is urgent, and that he is bothered.
    I think about last night and wonder if this is more fallout. Maybe it’s his father. Or maybe it has to do with Stark International’s legal troubles in Germany.
    After a moment, he frowns, ends the call, and slides thephone into his pocket. For a fleeting instant, I can see the irritation on his face. Then it is wiped away, as if he has willed the universe to behave, and the universe has no choice but to agree. Damien Stark is a man who gets what he wants, however he wants.
    When he looks in my direction, I see in his eyes that what he wants right now is me.
    His smile is as potent a greeting as any kiss could ever be. It is like something inside me has come undone and I rush to him, then throw myself in his outstretched arms. He pulls me close, and the last wisps of jealousy disintegrate under the touch of this man.
    When I’ve had my fill of him—though, really, I can never have my fill of him—I ease back and smile. “Missed you.”
    “Missed you more.”
    “Is everything okay?”
    He eyes me oddly. “Of course. Why?”
    “I saw you just now. On the phone, I mean.”
    For a moment, the irritation is back. “It’s nothing,” he says. “Something I thought was under control has turned out to be more volatile than I expected. Nothing to worry about, though.” He tilts my chin up and gazes into my eyes for so long that I feel as though I am going to fall in. Then he smiles, so slowly and sweetly that I cannot help but sigh. “You look beautiful,” he says, after we’ve stood like that, lost in each other, for what feels like a lifetime.
    “Thank you for the dress.” I do a small turn to show it off. “And for the bed.” I’m looking right at him as I speak, so there is no missing the shadow that crosses his face. “Damien? What is it?”
    He hesitates, and I see the ghost of a frown before it fades into a smile. “I’m just very pleased you like them.”
    “Of course I do.” Worried, I look in his eyes, the darkone seeming to draw me in and the amber one bathing me in a warm, loving glow. Whatever hesitation I thought I’d seen has faded, but I am not soothed. There are things he wants to say to me, and yet he is not saying them. I start to press, but hold back. Now is not the time.
    “We should join the party,” I say.
    “In a minute.” He pulls me closer to him, so that my breasts are pressed against his chest and my chin is tucked onto his shoulder. I breathe deeply, memorizing the scent of him, all musk and masculine spices.
    “How is it that I can miss you so much when you’re not beside me?” he asks.
    “I don’t know,” I whisper. “But I could ask the same question.”
    “Oh, Nikki.” The last sound of my name is cut off as his mouth closes roughly over mine.
    My body melts against him, and I feel myself opening up. I want him. I want him now. Here. On the goddamn stove if we have to, but I want to know that this man is mine. I want to claim him. I want to fuck him.
    And I’m frustrated as hell because none of that is going to happen. Not now, with our friends on the other side of this wall, just a few feet