Page 11 of Possess Me

He frowns at the journal as I scowl at the design of a snake eating his tail. Unlike the embossed initials, this has been burned into the leather. Like a brand.

Damien’s brow furrows. “Honestly, I can’t remember one way or the other.”

“I can,” I say. “It was just the—”

“What?”

I shake my head, suddenly realizing that I’m uncertain. I was excited to see Vivien’s initials. As for the design surrounding them, maybe my mind just ignored that.

“It must have been there,” Damien says. “It’s not as if someone would have branded the journal between the time we bid and the time we picked it up.”

“Right,” I say. “We just didn’t notice.”

Our eyes meet, and I can’t help but wonder. But Damien only shrugs as if he’s not concerned at all. And if he’s not, why on earth should I be?

“It looks good this way,” I say as I move my finger around and around. Tracing. Following. “Yes,” I say as if I’ve just made an important decision. “I like it.”

Damien takes the journal, surprising me by tracing the outline of the snake himself. “It’s almost as if it knew,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“It? Knew what?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.

His smile is slow as he passes the journal back to me, then slips his hand into his pocket again, this time pulling out a velvet jewelry box about three inches square.

I look from the journal to the box to Damien. “You really are spoiling me. What on earth do you have there?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out?”

I take the box, the velvet smooth against my fingers, then lift the hinged lid. Inside, nestled against black satin, is Vivien Lorainne’s snake bracelet. The one listed as “Display Only.” The one I’d admired and mourned as unavailable.

“Damien,” I whisper. Tears prick my eyes as I carefully lift it out of the box. The silver coils gleam in the dim light, each curve impossibly intricate. Tiny emeralds glint in the snake’s eyes while turquoise stones dot the band, their color deep and mesmerizing. “Damien, this is…”

I trail off, unable to find the words. “But it wasn’t for sale. How—?”

He only shrugs, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You wanted it.”

“Thank you.” My throat is clogged with tears as I slip it onto my wrist. The silver is cool against my skin, and the weight of it seems strangely comforting. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He takes my hand, then brushes a kiss across my knuckles. “You don’t have to say a thing. It suits you.”

I glance down at the bracelet again, watching the way it catches the light. For a moment, it almost seems to shift, the emerald eyes gleaming like they’re alive.

I tilt my head, studying my husband. “You said all our luggage is here?”

“All unpacked by elves.”

I grin. “In that case, Mr. Stark. I think you should wait here. As they say in the movies, I’m going to go slip into something a little more comfortable.”

“Oh, really?” He settles in, his arms spread on the back of the sofa, looking relaxed and powerful and so sexy I consider just forgetting about the silky 1940s-style negligee I’d bought for our night after the auction.

But no…I want to seduce my husband properly. “Have another glass of champagne,” I suggest, picking up my flute before heading toward the master bedroom. “And remember—anticipation is half the fun.”

“It is, Mrs. Stark,” he says, his voice so full of heat it’s almost a caress.

I resist the renewed urge to forget the damn negligee, then hurry to the bedroom.

I find the garment hanging in a chifforobe, and I quickly strip, then slide it on, enjoying the feel of the satin over my bare skin. I’d found the negligee in a consignment shop, and since it’s from the forties, I’d had to buy it for this trip. Now I’m glad I did. It’s ankle-length, with thin straps and a low-cut bodice. Sexy as hell, and yet somehow demure, especially when paired with the matching—albeit sheer—robe.

For a moment, the memory of that strange voice when I’d opened the door comes back to me. The voice. The snake branded onto the journal. It must mean something, but—