Page 28 of Possess Me

And a primal connection that he’d never felt with anyone other than Nikki.

She was his, dammit. His.

But right then, he was terrified that she wasn’t. Not anymore.

He felt his hands tighten into fists as his body tensed. But who was he supposed to fight? Nikki? The house? The memory of Vivian Lorainne?

And where the hell could he go—where could he take her? They couldn’t outrun this nightmare. No matter how much he might want to, somehow, he knew that he had to stay.

Had to fight. Not his wife, but the … thing … that had seduced her.

He shivered, fear as cold as ice trailing down his spine. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

And yet, dammit, he was terrified that he already had.

The thought sent a fresh wave of tension through him. He was a man who prided himself on control. Keeping it. Enforcing it. He was Damien Fucking Stark, but for the last three days, he sure as hell hadn’t felt like it.

Not with his wife turning into another person. Wearing only Vivien Lorainne’s clothes. Styling her hair as the star had done. Even mimicking Vivien’s makeup.

And, yes, maybe he could have handled that—convinced himself it was only a way for Nikki to amuse herself, or chalked it up to boredom on the island and taken her home—if that had been the only thing going on.

But it wasn’t. She’d grown distant. Cold.

Different.

In the space of three days, she’d become a woman he didn’t know. A terrifying thought because he knew Nikki as well as he knew himself. Or, at least, he thought he did.

Was he even himself anymore? He wasn’t sure. But he knew one thing for certain—the woman in his bed wasn’t Nikki anymore.

Yes, she still came to him. Yes, she still touched him. Stroked him. Whispered that she wanted him. And, damn him, he responded, pushed by a need so powerful it felt like it was coming from outside him. Taking her hard. Taking her fast. Begging her with every touch and every kiss and every thrust deep inside her to tell him what was wrong. Why she’d withdrawn.

Why she was losing herself to a murdered movie star?

She never gave him a clue.

She gave him sex. And she gave him silence.

She gave him Vivien Lorainne.

But when she looked at him, he saw something beneath that facade. Something cold and calculating.

Something that scared the hell out of him.

“Dammit.” The word came out hard, lingering in air that seemed to carry a strange tension. He drew in a breath to calm the storm building inside him, then let it out slowly. He wanted his wife back. And for that, he needed answers. So he’d come here to talk to the only person he knew who might be able to help.

Determined, he squared his shoulders, then took a step forward. Then another, and another after that, until he was inside the hotel and saw Franklin Hart sitting at one of the tables in the lobby bar.

“Dr. Hart. Thank you for meeting me,” Damien said after he’d shook hands with the man. He settled into his own seat as a waiter hurried over with a Scotch.

“Please. Call me Franklin. And you’ll allow me to call you Damien?”

“Of course,” Damien said. He hadn’t noticed it after the auction, but there was something about the man he didn’t care for. Something about the way he held himself. The way he looked at Damien but didn’t quite meet his eyes. But that didn’t matter now. Franklin was his only resource, and Damien was enough of a negotiator to know when he did—and, more importantly, when he didn’t—hold the upper hand.

Franklin leaned back in his chair, and Damien felt the man’s eyes on him. Studying him. “You said you needed my professional opinion,” he finally said, “but beyond that, I’m at a loss. Are we talking matters of the psyche or the occult?”

Damien took a sip of the Scotch, letting it sit on his tongue, relishing the burn, and giving himself a few precious seconds before he had to speak his fears aloud. And, in so doing, move them from imagination to reality.

“Both,” he finally said. “Though, to be honest, I hope this falls within the purview of psychology. If I can walk away from this table knowing that my fears are all in my head, you’ll have made me a very happy man.”