been focusing attention there,” he admitted. “Recruiting. Training.”
Dallas smirked. “I noticed. Liam. Quincy. Tony. Hell, you even got Noah.”
“Not at Stark Security,” Damien said, “but he’s doing a damn good job at Stark Applied Technology’s Austin office.”
“Apparently you have a knack for bringing on good people.”
“I do,” Damien said, holding his friend’s gaze. “I see talent, and I go after it.”
“And now we get to the heart of the matter. You came to Southampton with ulterior motives.”
“If you mean that I came with the intent of leaving my precious children in your care so that I could run off to Manhattan for a wicked night with my wife, then you are absolutely correct.”
“A task Jane and I happily accepted. And yet…”
“And yet,” Damien agreed. There wasn’t any point playing games. “We can use you. In the field, sure. But if that’s further than you want to go, then we want your knowledge. Your resources. Equipment.”
“Stark Security is a young company but doing well.”
“It is,” Damien said. “The business is strong, and our work is exceptional.”
“And you were thinking that it would be interesting to have an office on the East Coast.”
Damien stepped back, then spread his arms to encompass the basement. “If we can make a deal, I’d say we have all the makings for that office right here.”
For a moment, Dallas said nothing. Then he nodded. “All right. I’ll think about it. But tell me this—would I have the honor of working hand-in-hand with the exceptionally talented Damien Stark?”
“You know that’s not what I do.”
“Isn’t it?” He shrugged. “You’ve put on so many hats in your life, I get confused.” He chuckled. “Like you said, Stark International is a well-oiled machine now. And I can’t help but wonder if you’re not looking for that next great adventure.”
Chapter Three
Damien put a hand on the mattress to steady himself as he bent over to kiss both of his little girls on the forehead. They’d been given the guest room across the hall from his and Nikki’s room, and they were currently snuggled together in the middle of the king size bed, their sweet little faces lost in sleep.
“Sleep well, my sweet girls,” he whispered. He gently stroked the soft hair on their heads before returning to the doorway. He paused for one more look at his children, warm and safe in the glow of the nightlight. Safe, yes. But they hadn’t always been, and that unshakeable reality ate at him. A constant prick in his life since the day Anne had been taken. He’d learned to live with it. To accept the reality that the world could be a dangerous place, and in many ways, his own choices had made it even more dangerous for the people he loved. Sometimes money could move mountains, solve problems, provide a new and better life.
And sometimes it put a target on your back.
With a sigh he shut the door, then moved quietly across the hall, his thoughts spinning. He’d never feared the loss of what he’d built. He’d started with nothing, and though he’d worked his ass off and sacrificed so much to build Stark International, if it was all ripped from him, he knew he would be fine. He could rebuild. Again and again if necessary. The Stark conglomerate wasn’t what defined him. It was his confidence. The knowledge that he could do what needed to be done, and that he would not only survive but thrive.
Not arrogance, just reality.
But there was another reality, too. One he’d had to face the hard way. The cold, hard truth that although he’d built himself into a man the world thought of as a force to be reckoned with, someone had still taken Anne.
It had been the hardest lesson of his life, that realization that even though he’d scraped and clawed and fought his way to the top, at the end of the day that didn’t mean shit. No matter how hard he worked and how much money he spent, he would always be vulnerable.
More importantly, so would the people he loved.
It had taken some doing to come to terms with that, but he had. Things were better now. Stark Security was off the ground and doing incredibly well. His family was whole and healthy.
Sunlight had pierced the dark cloud of worry that had hung over their family.
And still he had that itch to do more. Not to build, but to fight.
Dallas was right—he wanted to put a bubble around the people he loved. And since