Page 3 of Possess Me

“For our life. For loving me.”

“We gave each other our lives,” he says. “And as for loving you….” He trails off with a soft chuckle. “I’m not sure I had a choice about that.”

“I know,” I say, understanding what he means with perfect clarity. Because that’s how I feel, too.

He lifts my palm to his lips and kisses it. Then he cocks his head, and I see a hint of amusement flash across his face. “We probably should make a better effort to see the displays before the auction starts,” he teases. “Then let’s track down Sylvia and Jackson,” he adds, referring to his brother and sister-in-law. “They probably think we ran off.”

I glance around, not seeing either of them. “Or they did.” I grin. “Syl was telling me they haven’t had a night away from the kids in over a month. They had the look of a couple with something other than an auction on their mind.”

“I think I’m jealous,” he says as he presses a hand to my back, leading me toward the displays.

“Don’t get any ideas, Mr. Stark. I’m not missing out on the chance to bid on something of Vivien Lorainne’s.” As Damien well knows, she’s my favorite classic actor, and her last movie and only musical—The Red Carousel—has been one of my favorite films since childhood.

“Maybe I should just buy the entire collection and call it a day.”

I turn to look at him, afraid that he’s serious, then relax when I see his face.

He chuckles.

“Don’t laugh,” I say. “You know perfectly well that could have been a legitimate threat.” For that matter, I’m certain the only reason he doesn’t buy out the entirety of the items up for auction—is that it would steal the fun from other potential bidders. Plus, he’s determined to win the bid on at least a few items for me. And I’m certain he’s looking forward to the back-and-forth of bidding against someone else with the means to purchase and the wherewithal to bid against a man like Damien Stark.

I stop at the first case, drawn to a glittering silver and turquoise snake bracelet. I recognize it from The Red Carousel right away. It had been a gift to the heroine from the dead lover she mourned—and who came to her in dreams when she wore the bracelet. Vivien herself had found the bracelet during her travels overseas and had suggested it for the prop in the film. Now, here it sits, coiled on a velvet cushion. It’s stunning—delicate yet bold, with tiny emeralds gleaming in the eyes of the snake.

I want to call over one of the attendants to open the case and let me try it on, but the “Display Only/Not For Sale" placard stops me.

“It suits you,” Damien says, his voice low.

“It’s fabulous.” I turn to frown up at him. “I love the idea of an auction—especially one with memorabilia from all of her films— but including something that can’t be bought … well, that just doesn’t seem sporting.”

He taps my lips as if trying to erase my frown. “It’s probably earmarked for the traveling collection,” he says, referring to the props, costumes, and other memorabilia that will travel the globe, visiting various museums and institutions as part of the effort to raise funds for the charity. “We’ll find something else wonderful for you to bid on.”

I’m still disappointed, but he’s right. Sometimes, all the money in the world can’t buy what you want. I suppose that’s a good lesson to remember. Especially considering that after so many years with Damien, it’s not an issue that I bump up against often.

Nearby, a cluster of people oooh and ahhh over another case displaying a sequined gown she wore in a dark drama in which the naive young woman became ensnared in the clutches of a man determined to take her money and her innocence. Another case holds an ornate feathered headpiece and, further down, an embroidered silk robe from an iconic bedroom scene.

“You would look lovely in that,” Damien says.

“I have more lingerie than I need,” I tell him. “Especially since my husband never seems to let me wear it for a full night. Or a full hour,” I quip.

He comes closer, lowering his voice to a whisper as he says, “Your husband must have a keen eye to know that what’s hidden is even more beautiful than the garment that hides it.”

“If you’re trying to seduce me,” I tell him, “you’re doing a very good job.”

“Are you saying I have to seduce my wife?”

“Wouldn’t want you to get complacent, Mr. Stark.” I toss a smile and a wink over my shoulder before I move on to the next case, this one with various items from her home.

“I wonder what’s inside it,” Damien muses as I linger over a leather-bound journal with only the letters VL stamped on the cover. It’s small, the kind of notebook you’d tuck into a purse or leave by your bedside for late-night thoughts.

“I’d love to find out,” I admit.“ I can almost see her, pen in hand, pouring her secrets onto the page, and I’m overcome with an urge to bid on this journal. I imagine the feel of the leather in my hand, the rasp of a pen nub against the paper. And I think of all the secrets it holds.

“I can call over an attendant,” Damien says with a knowing smile. “Open the case. Let you take a closer look.”

Yes, yes!

The words ring through my mind, but I can’t make them come out. Instead, I shake my head, wondering at my reaction.

“Nikki?” Damien studies my face with a frown.