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I shift on the soft, leather passenger seat as Daatti Veyron onto the Pacific Coast Highway Damien has not actually said as much, but I think that of all his cars, this one is his favorite It’s certainly the one we use the ed--finally--to atti," not "that unpronounceable car"

He’s sh its paces, leading us away from Malibu to God knohere He hasn’t told , I trust that it will be fabulous, and I a him Damien Stark, my playful, sexy billionaire I smile even broader Mine, I think That is what he said about me That I am his

But is the reverse really true? Is Damien mine? For that matter, can a man like Damien Stark--ato anyone?

His attention shifts fro two horizontal furrows on an otherwise perfect forehead "Penny for your thoughts," he says

I forcemy worries "I haven’t taken a look at your balance sheets, but I think you’re worth more than a penny, Mr Stark"

"I’m flattered"

"Atof h to ain, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised There isn’t a oes by that I don’t think of you" His words are as sain-basement price of a penny, if I was required to pay each tihts turned to you, o"

"Oh" My smile is soft and ridiculously, foolishly shy He has, in that Damien Stark way that he has, coe you, then I’d hate to see you destitute" I flash an iainst the soft leather seat "I like your cars tooup with me more palatable"

"Oh, absolutely," I say "The cars, the clothes, the jet" I’lances sideways at aze, I see the concern on his face

I grimace "They make me want to pull out my Leica and snap pictures of them Then we’d see how they like it" I frown "On the other hand, I love that camera" I think back to the day that Damien surprised raphy "I don’t want to soil it by taking pictures of them" I say the last word as if there’s a nasty taste in my mouth