“Damien?”
He cocks his head and flashes a wry smile. “No shadows,” he says, repeating my words. “Steele doesn’t know the half of it.”
He sounds so distracted that I’m getting a bit concerned. “What are you talking about?”
“Steele doesn’t want to be in my shadow—doesn’t want to ride on my coattails.”
“Right.” I’m still not following him.
“Whoever our blackmailer is wants exactly that. He wants to hide. Wants to stay in the dark, hidden in the shadows, secure in the belief that he knows me so well.” Damien meets my eyes. “So damn certain that now that I’m married, I won’t want a spotlight shining on my wife or her friends. And that I’ll pay to keep all sorts of shit in the shadows.”
“Are you saying you won’t?” My words are tentative; I’m afraid to hope.
“No,” Damien says. “I won’t. I can’t.” I see the worry fill his eyes. “Once I do, it won’t ever stop. Baby, tell me you understand.”
I’m in his arms immediately. “I’ve been telling you that. So has Jamie. No matter what hits the tabloids, we’ll survive.”
He pulls me close and hugs me tight before easing back and then pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m still going to try to keep it from getting out.”
“How?”
His smile is tight. “I’m going to play a hunch. And then I’m going to negotiate.”
“You mean you’re going to threaten.”
“Sweetheart,” he says. “You know me so well.”
He pulls out his phone.
“What’s the hunch?” I ask before he can dial.
“I’m willing to believe that Douglas isn’t the brains behind this—that man couldn’t find his dick without a woman or a map—but his claim that releasing the tape will destroy him is bullshit. That tape gets out, and suddenly he’s the guy who screwed Nikki Stark’s best friend. That’s worth something to a worm like him.”
“You think someone approached him?”
“I do,” Damien says.
“Who?”
He shakes his head. “I have a few ideas, but no confirmation.”
I swallow, and though I say nothing, my fear is that Damien thinks his father—a man who has about a million recent reasons to hold a grudge—is behind this.
“Will Douglas tell you who it is?” I ask.
“To be honest, I believe Douglas when he says he doesn’t know.”
“So someone approached him anonymously?”
“That’s my guess. Which means that at the very least, Douglas has a way to get a message back to them.” He pulls out his phone. “And I’m going to insist that he deliver mine. That he tell his handler that if Valentine’s Day passes with no photos released to the media, then I will ignore this lapse in judgment on their part. But if a single photo turns up where it doesn’t belong, I will not stop until I’ve made the life of every person involved a complete living hell.
“And then,” he adds, with the scary kind of smile that makes me remember why he does so damn well in the shark-infested waters of corporate America, “I’ll invite law enforcement to the party, just to add a little spice to the mix.”
After Damien puts the fear of God into Douglas, he suggests that we put it away and enjoy the rest of our last day. After all, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and we’ll know soon enough if it worked.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Mr. Stark. What do you have in mind?”
“Actually,” he says. “I thought I’d teach you a bit about sailing.”
As it turns out, I’m a hopeless student. I’m much more interested in watching Damien move, all masculine and athletic grace. His second item on the agenda, snorkeling, is much more my speed, and I follow him into the warm water as soon as the boat is anchored. The reef is teeming with color and life, and I watch all of it, mesmerized, and then delighted when Damien points out both a manta ray and a sea turtle.
Back on the boat, I sit on the deck, a towel wrapped around me as the sun sinks toward the horizon.
Damien is expertly maneuvering us back to the island, and I feel completely at peace out here on the wide, blue sea. Despite the dicey start to the morning, everything is calm now. We’ve both pushed it aside, I think. Hopefully, there will be no pictures released tomorrow, but if there are, we’ll deal. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, Damien and I can handle pretty much anything so long as we are together.
I’m surprised when he maneuvers the boat past the rental dock from where we’d departed. Instead, he follows the shore, and then brings the boat in to the small dock that extends from our private beach.
“Door-to-door service?”