Play My Game (Stark Trilogy, #3.7)(24)

Steele looks Damien up and down, then his eyes cut to me before returning to Damien. For a moment, I think he’s going to ignore Damien’s offered hand, but then he reaches out and the two men shake. “I know who you are, Stark. I got your message this morning.”

“I was hoping to find some time to talk to you today or tomorrow,” Damien says, and though I can tell that he can’t quite figure this guy out, I’m certain that no one else observing the conversation would be able to tell that he is currently reassessing his approach. “I’ve been a fan of your work for a very long time and I’d like to discuss working with you on a project that I think you’ll find intriguing.”

“I’m flattered. But the truth is I’m not taking meetings this week. I’m on vacation.”

“Understood,” Damien says as the restaurant hostess steps up to him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says, “but there’s a call for you at the front desk.”

Damien frowns, but excuses himself, saying that he’ll be right back.

I decide to take up the slack. “I hope you consider the project. We’re both very impressed by your work and think you would be an excellent fit.”

“I appreciate that,” he says. “But I’m not sure that Stark International is the place for me. I’m sure you realize that your husband casts a very long shadow.”

“Oh.” I’m trying to decide how to reply to that when Damien returns, apologizing for the interruption.

“I won’t bother you on vacation,” he says to Steele, sliding back into the conversation. “But why don’t I give you a call at your office when I get back to the States?”

“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Steele says, and though I can’t put my finger on the reason, I feel as though there is something off about the way he says it.

Steele glances toward the line, which has barely moved. “Since we’re all here, why don’t you just go ahead and tell me now.”

As I sigh with relief, hoping that Steele is reconsidering what he’d said to me only moments ago, Damien describes his plan to locate and acquire an entire island that can be developed as a high-end couples’ retreat. “You have a strong vision, Mr. Steele. I’d like to have you join the project at the ground floor. Your finger in every aspect of the project, including the selection of the island. I think it’s an exciting venture, and would add something unique to your portfolio.”

“It would,” Steele says. “But I’m going to have to decline.”

“Are you?” Damien says. “May I ask why?”

“I have my reasons,” he says glancing quickly at me before focusing entirely on Damien. And though they both appear relaxed and at ease, there’s tension in the air.

“A number of reasons, actually,” Steele continues. “But as I told your wife just moments ago, you cast a very long shadow, Mr. Stark. And I don’t want myself or my work to get caught underneath it.”

I expect Damien to argue, so I’m surprised when he nods slowly in acquiescence. “I’m disappointed, but I can respect your reason. If you ever change your mind, the door is open.”

“I don’t foresee that happening,” Steele says. “But I’ve learned to never say never.”

He nods to Damien, then to me. And then he abandons the omelet line just as he reaches the cook.

Damien watches him go, and I watch Damien.

“Interesting,” he says. “Did he say anything else to you?” I shake my head, and he continues, frowning. “I’m usually so certain about people, but I can’t quite get a read on him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure. But I don’t think there’s a middle ground with Jackson Steele. If I had the chance to get to know him better, I’d either like him or hate him. No ambivalence. No casual association.”

“You’d like him,” I say firmly.

He tilts his head to look at me. “And why do you say that?”

“Because he intrigues you.”

He chuckles. “Maybe he does. Why do you think that is?”

“Because, Mr. Stark, of all the people in the world, Jackson Steele is one of the few who have ever managed to look you in the eye and say no.”





Chapter 10


Damien pampers me thoroughly on our last full day on the island.

We sleep late, then start with breakfast in bed, catered by the extremely efficient room service staff. After that, we move to the spa and a couples’ massage in a cabana by the beach.

Damien disappears while I have a facial and pedicure, but when he returns he leads me to a small sailboat moored at the end of a whitewashed wooden pier. I look around and see no one but us.

He laughs. “Have a little faith. I promise you, I can handle a sailboat.”

“So many hidden talents, Mr. Stark,” I tease as I reach for his hand and let him help me onto the boat.

I know nothing about sailing, but it’s soon clear enough that Damien does. He gets us untied from the dock and maneuvers us away from the island with the same kind of confidence and ease with which he does everything else.

“There’s Steele,” I say, pointing to the shore. I look at the sky. “Sun’s straight overhead. No shadows right now.”