"But if it's locked, then how can I get in?" Ronnie is asking.
"You raise a very good question," Jackson says, and I bite back laughter.
"Jeffery!" Ronnie is in the middle of the bed, and now she bounces and starts covering and uncovering her eyes. "Peek-eye," she says, then laughs and laughs when Jeffery mimics her, babbling "Ra-Ra!" as he does, which is Jeffery-speak for Ronnie.
"Put him here," she demands, and I defer to the princess's wishes and put Jeffery on the bed in front of her, between me and Jackson. I figure we have at least twenty minutes until he loses interest in his sister and howls for breakfast.
"Tell us a story, Daddy! Please!"
Jackson grins, then puts his arm out for me. I snuggle close so that the four of us make a tightly knit circle, then sigh as I think about my life and how very lucky I am.
"Once upon a time," he begins, "there was a brilliant and magical princess named Veronica--"
"Yay!" she interrupts, clapping her hands. "Does it end with happily ever after?"
"Of course," he says, with a soft glance toward me. "There's always a happily ever after."
The End
Read on for Steal My Heart, a bonus short story included with this novella.
And be sure not to miss Anchor Me, the fourth book in The Stark Trilogy!
FROM NEW YORK TIMES AND #1 INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. KENNER comes the highly anticipated fourth novel in the fast-paced series including Release Me, Claim Me, and Complete Me. This sexy, emotionally charged romance continues the story of Damien Stark, the powerful multimillionaire who's never had to take "no" for an answer, and his beloved wife Nikki Fairchild Stark, the Southern belle who only says "yes" on her own terms.
It's a new chapter in the life of Nikki and Damien Stark ...
Though shadows still haunt us, and ghosts from our past continue to threaten our happiness, my life with Damien is nothing short of perfection. He is my heart and my soul. My past and my future. He is the man who holds me together, and his love fuels my days and enchants my nights.
But when tragedy and challenge from both inside and outside the sanctity of our marriage begins to chip away at our happiness, I am forced to realize that even a perfect life can begin to crack. And if Damien and I are going to win this new battle, it will take all of our strength and love ...
*
Want even more Nikki & Damien?
Be sure not to miss Entice Me
A Stark Ever After Novella
STEAL MY HEART
A Steele Short Story
Dear Readers--
This short story came about because Deepest Kiss, a Stark Ever After novella, is told from Nikki Fairchild Stark's point of view. And while Nikki might be Sylvia's friend and sister-in-law, she wasn't actually present when Sylvia went into labor or delivered Baby Steele at the end of that novella.
And if Nikki wasn't there, that means that you weren't there either. So this short story was written to fill a gap, and was originally offered as a free download to fans. I wanted to give readers a chance to see what was going on in Sylvia and Jackson's minds and hearts in the days before the baby's arrival. That's an important event, and I didn't want you to be left out!
I hope you enjoy this very quick read, which chronologically precedes Take My Dare ... and be sure to check the list of all my other Stark titles to make sure you haven't missed any stories!
XXOO
J. Kenner
Chapter One
++
"This was so great, you guys," I say as I stand in the bungalow's open doorway and hug my sister-in-law, Nikki Stark. "My only regret is that I didn't get to see Cass fondle a paper penis." Apparently my party-planning friends had decided that Pin the Sperm on the Egg was more appropriate for a baby shower than Pin the Penis on the Hunk.
My best friend, Cass, raises her newly pierced brow, making the little diamond studded bar sparkle. "Paper's the only kind I would fondle," she retorts, reaching for her girlfriend Siobhan's hand. "Now if you want to play pin the nipple on the breast..."
"Not even," I say, cringing. I'm only a few weeks from my due date, and my breasts are so full and heavy that I'm pretty sure they're going to burst any moment. And that's without the aid of a pin.
"Seriously," I continue. "Thank you all so much. I really wasn't expecting this." The shower had been a complete surprise, with Nikki enlisting the help of her husband Damien to get me to the island by fabricating a crisis that needed my on-site attention. The island is the Resort at Cortez, and it's fair to say this now-completed project was my first baby. A business venture that boosted me from the role of Damien Stark's executive assistant to project manager for Stark Real Estate Development.
Frankly, the resort turned out amazing. To say I'm proud would be an understatement.
"Come on, Sylvia. You sure you don't want to come out with us?" Jamie asks. She'd announced earlier that the entire group should go hit the club on the other side of the island for drinks and dancing. "The bartender makes a mean virgin strawberry daiquiri."
Beside her, Evelyn Dodge snorts. "Sweetie, none of us in this room are buying that you've ever come close to anything virgin. And besides," she adds, "I think our girl has somewhere else she'd rather be."
I smile gratefully at Evelyn. She's a Hollywood fixture, bold and brassy, and I've come to think of her as a pseudo-mom, especially during my pregnancy. Because god knows my own mother didn't even attempt to step up to the plate. "Evelyn's right," I say. "I just want to crash."
"Crash," Nikki repeats, with a knowing grin. "That's code for she wants to snuggle with Jackson."
I have to laugh. "It is," I admit. "It really is." I could pretend to be jealous that they're going to continue the party at the club, but I'm just not. I had a blast with my friends, but right now, I want my husband's arms around me.
"Then come on," Cass says. "Let's get you back to your bungalow safe and sound." She frowns at the doorway and the rain falling just past the porch. "I want to make sure you don't fall."
I roll my eyes. "I know how to walk, Cass."
"Hate to break it to you, but you don't walk anymore. You waddle."
I make a face, but I don't argue. Sadly, she's right. But as I rub my hand lightly over my huge belly, I can't deny that sore breasts and a pronounced waddle are a small price to pay for something as amazing as the child in my belly.
Jackson's child, I think, then let Cass hold my elbow to keep me steady as we start out toward my bungalow and the man I love.
Chapter Two
++
"Congrats again, man," Ryan Hunter said, giving Jackson a celebratory slap on the back as Blaine and Preston waited on the porch.
"Thanks." Jackson grinned. For that matter, he'd pretty much been grinning like an idiot all day. Why wouldn't he be? His wife was just weeks away from giving birth to his second child. Him, Sylvia, Ronnie, and the new baby--they made up an almost statistically perfect family. And considering the seriously screwed up family he'd grown up in, that alone was a miracle.
But what was even more of a miracle was the way he felt. Happy. Fulfilled. Even humbled that a woman like Sylvia was just as much in love with him as he was with her. They'd fought a long battle to get where they were now, but it was worth it.
Whatever he did for her was worth it.
Now, as he shut the door on the rain and his departing friends, he couldn't wait for the moment when she was back in his arms. She was only a short walk away--and she'd only been gone for a few hours--but during that span an ache had built in him that would only be soothed when he touched her. God, how he wanted to touch her. To kiss her lips. To taste the sweetness of her skin.
He wanted to rub his hand gently over her belly and feel the life inside. He wanted to bury himself inside her and know what the two of them, together, had created.
A miracle, that's for damn sure.
Most of all, he simply wanted to hold her.
With a sigh, he checked his watch, then
reminded himself that it wasn't cool to call your wife's friends and tell them to hurry up with the baby shower. Instead, he poured himself another glass of scotch. It would be his fourth for the evening, but what the hell? After all, tonight had been a celebration for him, too. No pink and blue party favors, but it was still all about celebrating his growing family.
The soft sound of sheets rustling interrupted his thoughts, and he shifted automatically toward the baby monitor that sat on the pass-through to the kitchen, his lips curving into a smile as he pictured his four year old daughter, Ronnie, curled up in the sheet with Bun-bun, the newest member of her stuffed animal menagerie.
Yeah, he thought, as he glanced around the cozy living room. He'd been thoroughly domesticated.
And he absolutely loved it.
He might have been the one who designed this bungalow, just as he had all the other buildings on the island. But his wife and child were the ones who breathed life into these walls. Who made them a home just as much as their new house in the Pacific Palisades.
He took another sip of his scotch and started back to the couch, planning to grab his sketchbook and start working on the design of a playscape he'd been thinking about for their backyard. He didn't make it. Instead, he stopped, his entire body full of anticipation, the moment he heard footsteps on the patio followed by the sound of the doorknob turning, and then the increased volume of the rain as the front door swung open.
And then there she was--Sylvia Brooks Steele.
His wife.
And damn, but she took his breath away.
She didn't see him yet--her head was turned as she spoke to someone behind her. Cass, he realized, as he heard Syl's best friend say goodbye.
Then Syl turned back and stepped into the foyer. She closed the door behind her. And then, finally, she looked up and met his eyes and smiled so bright it seemed to Jackson that her entire body glowed.
"Hey," she said softly. "I missed you."
"Oh, baby," he said, as he moved to her and took her in his arms. "I've missed you, too."
I'm as big as a house and haven't seen my feet in weeks. My breasts ache, my skin feels too tight for my body, and my lower back is a symphony of aches and pains, twinges and tweaks.
And yet despite all that, the moment I see him, I start to melt from the desire that floods through me. He's not doing anything other than standing in the living room looking at me. But even so, he's larger than life. That coal-black hair. Those ice blue eyes. The tall, straight posture that suggests he controls the room and everything--and everyone--in it.
Jackson Steele, the famous--some would say notorious--architect.
Jackson Steele, half-brother to tennis champion turned billionaire entrepreneur Damien Stark.
Jackson Steele, my husband, and the man who is the focal point of my world. Who grounds me and centers me. My white knight in so many ways.
It's astounding, really, how much I crave his touch. How turned on I get simply from looking at him. From knowing that he's mine. Granted, I've read all about pregnant women and their hormones, but this is more than that. This is a need that's burned within me from the first moment I saw him, and has only grown stronger since our wedding. Since I started to feel his child growing inside me.
I understand my desire--how could I not want this man? But what astonishes me is that even today, when I'm roughly the shape of a cantaloupe, I see the same expression on his face that I saw on our wedding night. He wants me, not just the packaging, and that knowledge warms me, making me feel safe and cherished.
Loved.
"You're wet," he says, coming to my side, and I have to laugh. Because he's right--I'm wet simply from looking at him. But I can tell from the tone of his voice that he's not talking about desire, but about my damp hair and shoulders. Not to mention the part of my belly that protruded out from the protection of the umbrella I was sharing with Cass.
He catches my reaction, of course, and I see the amused heat flash in his eyes even as his lips curve into a wicked grin. "I was going to suggest you put on some dry clothes, but now I'm thinking maybe you should just take those off."
"I could be convinced," I admit.
"I'm very glad to hear that," he says, as he comes closer and presses his hand over my belly. He moves toward me, his lips not yet reaching mine when a powerful kick makes us both jump, then laugh.
"I think he's awake," Jackson says.
"He? What makes you think it's a boy?" We'd decided not to find out the baby's sex, though I have to admit that there are times--like when I can't sleep and am shopping online at three a.m.--when I really wish I knew if I should be buying pink or blue.
"Must be a boy with a kick like that," Jackson says, earning a smack on his shoulder from me.
"Chauvinist," I say as he holds up his hands and laughs. "Speaking of strong women," I continue archly, "I assume Ronnie's asleep?"
"She stayed up long enough to be in charge of the chips for one round of poker and be thoroughly spoiled by all the guys. Then she started to get grouchy, so we called it a night. She's sound asleep with her bunny."
I frown, considering. "Maybe I should sneak it out of bed and wash it tonight? That thing has turned a shade of greenish-brown that really isn't natural."
"Better idea. Wash it tomorrow. Tonight, we can go peek at her from the doorway. Then I have other plans for you."
"Really? Like what, Mr. Steele?"
"For starters, a foot rub."
I practically swoon from the mere suggestion. Then I take his hand and lead him to the little bedroom at the opposite end of the hall from the master. The door is cracked open, and I can see the glow of golden light from her Frozen nightlight. I push it open slowly, then lean against Jackson as we both look at the dark-haired angel sleeping soundly, a bunny clutched against her chest, and her little thumb between her lips.
"I should get another blanket," I say, taking a step forward. Jackson's hand on my shoulder stops me.
"She'll just kick it off. That kid runs hot."
He's right, and I frown, annoyed at myself. "I know that. She hates having too many blankets. I just--"
"Want to take care of her. I know." He kisses the top of my head. "You're an amazing mom."
I sigh, and rest my head against his chest as I watch Ronnie sleep. "I hope so," I whisper, which is about as close as I can come to stating my fears. "With Ronnie--I don't know, it's like it's different since I stepped in later in the game."
"So did I," he says, and I nod, because he's right. Jackson had no idea he was a father for a long time, and even after he learned, Ronnie lived with her great grandparents for quite a while before he legally claimed paternity.
"True," I admit. "And I don't mean to sound all emotional and hormonal, really." I press my hands over my protruding stomach. "I mean, I'm so excited to meet this little person. But I'm still nervous. I just hope I'm half as good a mom as you are a dad. I'm at a disadvantage, you know," I say with a tease. "You've gotten the hang of this dad thing. I've only been a mom for a few months now."
"Almost nine months," he corrects me. "And that's if we only count the months since you adopted her. It's been about a year if we count the time you were Ronnie's mom in practice if not by law. Not that you needed the time. You were perfect from the moment you met her."
I wasn't--I was scared. Afraid I'd take after my own parents in the child-rearing department. The kind of parent that leaves scars on their children. Emotional scars that take a lifetime to heal, if they ever do.
But I'm not scared of that anymore. I'm not my dad. And I'm sure as hell not my mom. Now I'm just Sylvia. Very pregnant Sylvia with all the hopes and fears and insecurities of any pregnant woman.
In other words, a lot.
And, honestly, I'm sure Jackson must be a little nervous, too. After all, he's never actively parented an infant. For that matter, Ronnie must feel unsteady as well. She's outwardly excited about the baby, but I've seen signs of clinginess, and I'm sure that must be be
cause a new sibling is coming.
"We should do something special for her," I say, looking at our sleeping princess. "Something just for Ronnie. Right about the time the baby's born, or just after."
He doesn't say anything for so long that I shift to see his face. I find him smiling, his expression gentle. "See?" he says. "You're a great mom."
"Just trying to think about what she needs."
"Exactly."
I turn in his arms, and tilt my head up for his kiss, soft and gentle on my lips. "Right now, though," I admit, "I'm going to be selfish and think about what I need."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"You. Beside me. In bed."
"Is that so?"
I answer by cupping the back of his head and pulling him down for another kiss. This one bold and so full of heat that I feel it coursing through me. Building and demanding.
And while I may have started it, he takes over fully, pulling me close so that my belly presses against him, and my breasts ache as he holds me tight against him. His hand slides down over my rear, and I moan a little because I want more.
I want Jackson.
He takes advantage of my little noises and urges my lips open, then deepens the kiss. I taste scotch and cigars, and smile against his kiss, thinking that the guys really had been doing their masters of the universe thing tonight.
When I finally break away, I'm breathing hard. "Make love to me, Mr. Steele."
"Mrs. Steele, it will be my pleasure."
Chapter Three
++
I'm simply dressed in a T-shirt and skirt, and now I sit on the edge of the bed to peel the skirt off, then just shift sideways, still half dressed. As I do, I get a rare glimpse of my ankles, so swollen I can't help but wince even though they don't hurt.
"Lie back," Jackson says. "I believe I promised you a foot massage."
He also promised me sex, but right at the moment, I want both pretty much equally. So I'm more than willing to settle back, close my eyes, and lose myself in the sensual bliss of being utterly pampered.