Deepest Kiss (Stark Trilogy #3.10/Stark Ever After #6) Read Free

minutes.”
    “And the club is that much closer to the dock and the helipad,” she points out. “You want to see him sooner rather than later, right?”
    “What I want is to see him alone,” I confide. “Not on a crowded dance floor.”
    She sighs and shakes her head in mock disappointment. “And here I thought that being married to Damien Stark had added a little spice to your life.”
    I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. Jamie’s my best friend, but even she doesn’t know just how spicy my life with Damien is. “Just have fun,” I say. “And if you and Ryan decide to have too much fun, stick to the adult beach areas, okay? I can’t imagine any kids are out in the weather this late, but just in case I’d hate to traumatize them.”
    A wide, wicked smile lights her face, and her eyes gleam with devious pleasure. “The beach in a rainstorm. Hmm. That does sound tempting…”
    I can’t hold back the laughter anymore. “Go,” I say. “Catch up with them. And most of all, have fun.”
    She gives me a quick hug, then runs off to do just that. I watch as she heads down the path toward Syl and Jackson’s bungalow, where I see the rest of the men emerging and meeting up with the girls so they can all head off to their rooms at the empty bungalows just past Dallas’s place.
    I wave at them, then step back inside and close the door. Then I lean against the door, close my eyes, and wish for Damien.
    Unfortunately, I don’t have any magical powers, and he doesn’t immediately materialize. I check the clock on my cellphone. It’s three minutes later than it was the last time I looked. And, hopefully, three minutes closer to Damien.
    Except it’s not. Because as I’m looking at the clock, a text message pops across my screen.
    Going to be later than expected. Probably by at least two hours. Damn weather. It’s keeping me from you.
    Well, hell.
    I start to type out a long, whiny text, but I rein myself in. He wants to be here with me as much as I want him by my side. So I suck it up and type my reply.
    Miss you. Waiting for you. Hot for you.
    His answer flashes on my screen in seconds.
    Hard for you, baby. Soon.
    I realize I’m smiling, which under the circumstances is good. I want him by me, but if he can’t be here, at least I’m not morose.
    I head into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. I figure I’ll spend the two hours between now and Damien watching a movie, and a glass of wine will make the passing time more palatable. Not only that, but the bottle can breathe, and Damien can have a glass when he gets home.
    Except, dammit, we’re all out of wine. We’re also out of champagne, so no more mimosas for me. The vodka’s gone, too—apparently both Evelyn and Lisa have a penchant for Bloody Marys. I still have a tiny amount of gin, which I hate, and scotch, which I love but am really not in the mood for.
    I frown, considering my options. I had a whole scenario starting to play in my head. Two wineglasses on the coffee table, and an open bottle ready for pouring. Candles flickering in the dark room. Me naked under a blanket, and rapidly turning off the television the minute I hear Damien coming up the front steps.
    It’s a fantasy that I don’t want to abandon. More, it’s a fantasy I want to make real. And since I still have almost two hours before Damien will be walking up to the door, I decide to brave the nasty weather and walk down to the little market. It’s not far—just past the entrance to this gated area. It serves this quarter of the island and has everything from produce to wine to fine caviar.
    In fact, maybe I should get some caviar…
    I pull on jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, then shove my feet into a pair of canvas sneakers without laces. I have a fisherman-style yellow raincoat that I bought on a whim. It’s not as attractive as my London Fog, but it’s fun and funky and keeps me dry. I tug it on, then pull the hood over my head. It’s late spring, getting close to summer,