Crossfire 03 Entwined with You (6 page)

Gideon nodded, leaving me anxious and clueless about his feelings.

I
slid off the stool and went to him. Wrapping me up in his arms, he rested his cheek against the top of my head.

“I’ll back out,” I offered quickly. “I don’t really want to go anyway.”

“It’s okay.” Swaying from side to side, rocking me, he whispered, “I broke your heart.”

“That’s not why I agreed to go!”

His hands came up and pushed through my hair, combing it back from my forehead and cheeks with a gentleness that brought tears to my eyes. “We can’t just forget the last few weeks, Eva. I cut you deep and you’re still bleeding.”

It struck me then that I hadn’t been ready to pick up the pieces of our relationship as if nothing had gone wrong. A part of me was holding a grudge, and Gideon had picked up on it.

I struggled out of his hold. “What are you saying?”

“That I have no right to leave you and hurt you—for whatever reason—then expect you to forget how that felt and forgive me overnight.”

“You killed a man for me!”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he snapped. “My love for you is not an obligation.”

It still tore through me like a bullet every time he said he loved me, despite how often he proved it with his actions.

My voice was softer when I said, “I don’t want to hurt you, Gideon.”

“Then don’t.” He kissed me with heartrending tenderness. “Let’s eat, before the food gets cold.”

I changed into a Cross Industries T-shirt and a pair of Gideon’s pajama bottoms that I rolled up at the ankles. We took candles over to the coffee table and ate cross-legged on the floor. Gideon kept my favorite sweater on but swapped his slacks for a pair of black lounging pants.

Licking a dab of tomato sauce off my lip, I told him about the rest
of my day. “Mark’s gathering the nerve to ask his partner to marry him.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, they’ve been together awhile.”

“Since college.”

Gideon’s mouth curved. “I suppose it’s still a tough question to ask, even if the answer is a sure thing.”

I looked down at my plate. “Was Corinne nervous when she asked you?”

“Eva.” He waited until the lengthy silence brought my head up. “We’re not going to talk about that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

I searched his face. “How would you feel if you knew there was someone out there I’d said yes to? Theoretically.”

He shot me an irritated look. “That would be different because you wouldn’t say yes unless the guy really meant something to you. What I felt was … panic. The feeling didn’t go away until she broke the engagement.”

“Did you buy her a ring?” The thought of him shopping for a ring for another woman hurt me. I looked down at my hand, at the ring he’d bought for me.

“Nothing like that one,” he said quietly.

My hand fisted, guarding it.

Reaching over, Gideon set his right hand over mine. “I bought Corinne’s ring in the first store I went to. I had nothing in mind, so I picked one that looked like her mother’s. Very different circumstances, don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” I hadn’t designed the ring Gideon wore, but I’d searched six shops before I found the right one. It was platinum studded with black diamonds, and it reminded me of my lover, with its cool masculine elegance and bold, dominant style.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing. “I’m an ass.”

He
lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “So am I, on occasion.”

That made me grin. “I think Mark and Steven are perfect for each other, but Mark has this theory that men get the urge to marry, and then it goes away if it isn’t acted on quickly enough.”

“I would think it’d be more about the right partner than the right time.”

“I’ve got my fingers crossed for it to work out for them.” I picked up my wine. “Want to watch TV?”

Gideon leaned his back against the front of the sofa. “I just want to be with you, angel. I don’t care what we’re doing.”

W
E
cleaned up the mess from dinner together. As I reached for the rinsed dish Gideon held out for me to put in the dishwasher, he faked me out. He grabbed my hand instead and deftly set the plate on the counter. Catching me around the waist, he spun us into a dance. From the living room, I caught the strains of something beautiful laced with a woman’s pure, haunting voice.

“Who is this?” I asked, already breathless from the feel of Gideon’s powerful body flexing against mine. The desire that always smoldered between us flared, making me feel vibrant and alive. Every nerve ending sensitized, preparing for his touch. Hunger coiled tight with heated anticipation.

“No clue.” He swept me around the island and into the living room.

I surrendered to his masterful lead, loving that dancing was a passion we shared and awed by the obvious joy he felt in just being with me. That same pleasure effervesced within me, lightening my steps until it felt like we were gliding. As we approached the sound system, the music rose in volume. I heard the words
dark and dangerous
in the lyrics and stumbled in surprise.

“Too
much wine, angel?” Gideon teased, pulling me closer.

But my attention was riveted to the music. The singer’s pain. A tormented relationship she likened to loving a ghost. The words reminded me of the days when I believed I’d lost Gideon forever, and my heart ached.

I looked up into his face. He was watching me with dark, glittering eyes.

“You looked so happy when you were dancing with your dad,” he said, and I knew he wanted treasured memories like that between us.

“I’m happy now,” I assured him, even as my eyes stung at the sight of his yearning, a longing I knew intimately. If souls could be mated with wishes, ours would be inextricably entwined.

Cupping his nape, I pulled his mouth down to mine. As our lips touched, his rhythm faltered. He stopped, hugging me so tightly my feet left the floor.

Unlike the heartbroken singer, I wasn’t in love with a ghost. I was in love with a flesh-and-blood man, one who made mistakes but learned from them, a man who was trying hard to better himself for me, a man who wanted
us
to work as desperately as I did.

“I’m never happier than when I’m with you,” I told him.

“Ah, Eva.”

He took my breath away with his kiss.

“I
T
was the kid,” I said.

Gideon’s fingertips drew circles around my navel. “That’s twisted.”

We were sprawled lengthwise on the couch, watching my favorite police procedural television show. He was spooned behind me, his chin on my shoulder and his legs tangled with mine.

“That’s the way these things work,” I told him. “Shock value and all that.”

“I
think it was the grandmother.”

“Oh my God.” I tilted my head to look back at him. “And you don’t think
that’s
twisted?”

He grinned and smacked a kiss on my cheek. “Wanna bet on who’s right?”

“I don’t gamble.”

“Aw, come on.” His hand splayed against my belly, anchoring me as he rose up on his elbow to look down at me.

“Nope.” I felt him against the curve of my buttocks, a solid, weighty length. He wasn’t erect, but that didn’t stop him from gaining my attention. Curious, I reached between us and cupped him in my hand.

He hardened instantly. One black brow arched. “You copping a feel, angel?”

I squeezed him gently. “Now I’m hot and bothered, and wondering why my new neighbor isn’t putting the moves on me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast and scare you off.” Gideon’s eyes glittered in the light of the television.

“Is that so?”

He nuzzled his nose against my temple. “If he has half a brain, he’d know not to let you get away.”

Oh …
“Maybe I should make the first move,” I whispered, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “But what if he thinks I’m too easy?”

“He’ll be too busy thinking he’s damned lucky.”

“Well, then …” I wriggled around to face him. “Howdy, neighbor.”

He traced my eyebrow with the tip of his finger. “Hi. I really like the view around here.”

“The hospitality isn’t bad, either.”

“Oh? Plenty of towels?”

I pushed at his shoulder. “Do you want to suck face or not?”

“Suck face?” His head fell back and he laughed, his chest vibrating against me. It was a lusty, full-bodied sound and my toes curled at hearing it. Gideon laughed so rarely.

My
hands slid under his sweater and glided over warm skin. My lips moved over his jaw. “Is that a no?”

“Angel, I’ll suck on any part of your body I can get my mouth on.”

“Start here.” I offered him my lips and he took them, sealing his mouth softly over mine. His tongue traced the seam, then dipped inside me, licking and teasing.

I burrowed into his body, moaning when he shifted to lie half over me. My hands slid up and down his back, my leg lifting to hook over his hip. I caught his lower lip between my teeth and stroked the curve with the tip of my tongue.

His groan was so erotic it made me wet.

My back arched as his hand crept beneath the hem of my T-shirt and captured my bare breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured. He kissed his way to my temple, and then buried his face in my hair. “I love touching you.”

“You’re perfect.” I pushed beneath his waistband to grip his bare buttocks. The scent and heat of his skin intoxicated me, made me feel drunk with lust and longing. “A dream.”

“You’re
my
dream. Christ, you’re so beautiful.” His mouth covered mine and I fisted a hand in his hair, clutching him to me with my arms and legs wrapped around him.

My world narrowed to just him. The feel of him. The sounds he made.

“I love how much you want me,” he said hoarsely. “I couldn’t stand being in this alone.”

“I’m with you, baby,” I promised, my mouth moving feverishly beneath his. “I am
so
with you.”

Gideon possessed me with one hand at my nape and the other at my waist. Settling over me, he aligned his hardness to my softness, his cock to my sex, and rolled his hips. I gasped, my nails digging into the rock-hard cheeks of his ass.

“Yes,” I moaned shamelessly. “You feel so good.”

“It’d
feel better inside you,” he purred.

I bit his earlobe. “Are you trying to talk me into going all the way?”

“We don’t have to go anywhere, angel.” He sucked gently on my throat, making my sex clench hungrily. “I can put it in right here. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“I don’t know. I’ve changed my ways. I’m not that kind of girl anymore.”

His hand at my waist pushed my pants down. I gave a token wiggle and make a soft sound of protest. My skin tingled where he’d touched me, my body awakening to his demands.

“Shh.” Brushing his mouth over mine, he whispered, “If you don’t like it once it’s in you, I promise I’ll pull out.”

“Has that line ever worked for anyone?”

“I’m not feeding you lines. I mean every word.”

I gripped the steely curves of his butt and rocked up against him, knowing damn well he didn’t need any lines. A crook of his finger was all it would take for him to get laid by anyone he wanted.

Thankfully, he only wanted me.

Reveling in his playfulness, I teased, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“What other girls?”

“You’ve got a rep, you know.”

“But you’re the one wearing my ring.” As he lifted his head, his fingertips brushed the hair from my temple. “Day One of my life was the day I met you.”

The words hit me like a blow. I swallowed hard and whispered, “Okay, that’s a winner. You can put it in.”

The shadows left his face, chased away by his smile. “God, I’m crazy about you.”

I smiled back. “I know.”

I
WOKE IN
a cold sweat, my heart pounding violently. I lay in the master bed, panting, my mind clawing up from the depths of sleep.

“Get off me!”

Gideon.
My God.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

Throwing off the covers, I scrambled out of bed and ran down the hallway to the guest room. I searched frantically for the switch on the wall, hitting it with the flat of my palm. Light exploded in the room, exposing Gideon writhing on the bed, his legs twisted in the bedding.

“Don’t. Ah, Christ …” His back arched up from the bed, his hands fisting in the fitted sheet. “It
hurts
!”

“Gideon!”

He jerked violently. I raced to the bedside, my heart twisting to see him flushed and drenched with sweat. I placed my hand on his chest.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he hissed, seizing my wrist and
squeezing it so hard I cried out in pain. His eyes were open, but unfocused, still trapped in his nightmare.

“Gideon!”
I struggled to get away.

He jackknifed upward, his lungs heaving and his eyes wild. “Eva.”

Releasing me as if I had burned him, he shoved his damp hair out of his face and lunged out of bed. “Jesus. Eva … did I hurt you?”

I held my wrist with my other hand and shook my head.

“I want to see,” he said hoarsely, reaching for me with trembling hands.

I dropped my arms and stepped into him, hugging him as tightly as I could, my cheek pressed to his sweat-slick chest.

“Angel.” He clung to me, shaking. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

“Let me hold you,” he whispered, sinking to the floor with me. “Don’t let go.”

“Never,” I promised, my lips whispering over his skin. “Never.”

I ran a bath and climbed into the triangular corner tub with him. Sitting behind him on the highest step, I washed his hair and ran soapy hands over his chest and back, washing the icy sweat of the nightmare away. The heat of the water stopped his quivering, but nothing so simple could remove the dark desolation in his eyes.

“Have you ever talked to anyone about your nightmares?” I asked, squeezing warm water out of the sponge onto his shoulder.

He shook his head.

“It’s time,” I said softly. “And I’m your girl.”

He took a long time to speak. “Eva, when you have nightmares … are they more like re-creations of actual events? Or does your mind switch them around? Change them?”

“They’re mostly memories. True to life. Are yours not?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes they’re different. Make-believe.”

I absorbed that a minute, wishing I had the training and knowledge to be truly helpful. Instead, I could only love him and listen. I hoped that was enough, because his nightmares were ripping me apart as surely as they were him. “Are they changed in a good way? Or bad?”

“I fight back,” he said softly.

“And he still hurts you?”

“Yes, he still wins, but at least I hold him off as long as I can.”

I dipped the sponge again, squeezing water over him, trying to maintain a soothing rhythm. “You shouldn’t judge yourself. You were only a child.”

“So were you.”

My eyes closed tightly against the knowledge that Gideon had seen the photos and videos Nathan had taken of me. “Nathan was a sadist. It’s natural to struggle against physical pain, so I did. That’s not bravery.”

“I wish it had hurt me more,” he bit out. “I hate that he made me enjoy it.”

“You didn’t enjoy it. You felt pleasure and that’s not the same thing. Gideon, our bodies react to things by instinct, even when we don’t consciously want them to.” I hugged him from behind, resting my chin on the top of his head. “He was your therapist’s assistant, someone you’re supposed to be able to trust. He had the training to fuck with your head.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.”

“He … seduced me. And I let him. He couldn’t make me want it, but he made sure I didn’t resist.”

Moving, I pressed my cheek to his temple. “Are you worried you’re bisexual? It won’t freak me out if you are.”

“No.” He turned his head and brushed his mouth across mine, his hands lifting out of the water to link our fingers together. “I’ve never been attracted to men. But the fact that you’d accept me if I were … Right now I love you so much it hurts.”

“Baby.” I kissed him sweetly, our lips parting and clinging. “I just want you to be happy. Preferably with me. And I really want you to stop hurting yourself over what was done to you. You were raped. You were a victim and now you’re a survivor. There’s no shame in that.”

He turned and pulled me deeper into the water.

I settled beside him, my hand on his thigh. “Can we talk about something? Sexual?”

“Always.”

“You told me once that you don’t do anal play.” I felt him tense. “But you’ve … we’ve …”

“I’ve had my fingers and tongue inside you,” he finished, studying me. He’d altered with the change of subject, his hesitation replaced by calm authority. “You enjoy it.”

“Do you?” I asked, before I lost the courage.

He breathed heavily, his cheekbones burnished by the heated water, his face exposed by his slicked-back hair.

After long moments, I feared he wasn’t going to answer me. “I’d like to give you that, Gideon, if you want it.”

His eyes closed. “Angel.”

I reached a hand between his legs, cupping his heavy sac. My middle finger extended beneath him, brushing lightly over the puckered opening. He jerked violently, his legs slamming shut, sending water sloshing to the lip of the tub. His cock hardened like stone against my forearm.

I pulled my trapped hand free and gripped his erection in my fist, stroking, my mouth taking his when he groaned. “I’ll do anything for you. There are no limits in our bed. No memories. Just us. You and me. And love. I love you so much.”

His tongue thrust into my mouth, a greedy and slightly angry foray. His hand at my waist tightened, his other hand covering mine and urging me to tighten my grip.

Gentle waves lapped against the sides of the bathtub as I pumped his erection. His moan tightened my nipples.

“
I
own your pleasure,” I whispered into his mouth. “I’ll take it if you won’t give it to me.”

He growled, his head falling back. “Make me come.”

“Any way you want,” I vowed.

“W
EAR
the blue tie. The one that matches your eyes.” I had a direct view into the walk-in closet, where Gideon was picking out the suit he’d wear to wrap up the week.

He glanced over to where I sat on the edge of the bed in the master bedroom, a cup of coffee in my hands. His mouth curved in an indulgent smile.

“I love your eyes,” I told him with an easy shrug. “They’re gorgeous.”

He unhooked the tie from the rack and stepped back into the bedroom with a graphite gray suit draped over his forearm. He wore only black boxer briefs, affording me the joy of admiring his leanly ripped body and taut golden skin.

“It’s uncanny how often we think alike,” he said. “I picked out this suit because the color reminds me of
your
eyes.”

That made me smile. I swung my legs, too full of love and happiness to sit still.

Laying his clothes on the bed, Gideon came to me. I tilted my head back to look up at him, my heart beating strong and sure.

He cupped the sides of my head, his thumbs brushing over my eyebrows. “Such a beautiful stormy gray. And so very expressive.”

“A totally unfair advantage for you. You read me like a book, while you’ve got the best poker face I’ve ever seen.”

Bending over, he kissed my forehead. “And yet I can never get away with anything with you.”

“So you say.” I watched him start to dress. “Listen, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“If you need a date and it can’t be me, take Ireland.”

He paused in the act of buttoning up his shirt. “She’s seventeen, Eva.”

“So? Your sister is a beautiful, classy young woman who adores you. She’d do you proud.”

Sighing, he grabbed his slacks. “I can’t imagine her being anything but bored at the few events appropriate for her to attend.”

“You said she’d be bored having dinner at my place and you were wrong about that.”

“
You
were there,” he argued, yanking up his pants. “She had fun with
you
.”

I took a drink of my coffee. “You said anything,” I reminded.

“I don’t have a problem going dateless, Eva. And I told you I won’t be seeing Corinne anymore.”

I stared at him over the rim of my mug and didn’t say anything.

Gideon shoved his shirttails into his slacks with obvious frustration. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“You could refrain from grinning like the Cheshire cat,” he muttered.

“I could.”

He stilled, his narrowed eyes sliding down my body to where my robe had fallen away from my bare legs.

“Don’t get any ideas, ace. I already put out this morning.”

“Do you have a passport?” he asked.

I frowned. “Yes. Why?”

Nodding briskly, he reached for the tie I loved. “You’ll need it.”

Excitement tingled through me. “For what?”

“For travel.”

“Duh.” I slid off the bed onto my feet. “Travel to where?”

His eyes held a wicked gleam as he swiftly and expertly knotted his tie. “Somewhere.”

“Are you shipping me off to parts unknown?”

“Wouldn’t I love to,” he murmured. “You and me on a deserted tropical island where you’d be perpetually naked and I could slide into you at any moment.”

I set one hand on my hip and shot him a look. “Sunburned
and
bowlegged. Sexy.”

He laughed and my toes flexed into the carpet.

“I want to see you tonight,” he said, as he shrugged into his vest.

“You just want to put it in me again.”

“Well, you did tell me not to stop. Repeatedly.”

Snorting, I put my coffee down on the nightstand and shrugged out of my robe. Naked, I crossed the room, skirting him when he made a grab for me. I was opening a drawer to choose one of the lovely Carine Gilson bra and panty sets he kept stocked for me, when he came up behind me, slid his arms beneath mine, and cupped my breasts in both hands.

“I can remind you,” he purred.

“Don’t you have a job to get to? Because I do.”

Gideon pressed against my back. “Come work with me.”

“And pour your coffee while waiting for you to fuck me?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” I spun so quickly to face him that I knocked my purse onto the floor. “I have a job and I like it a lot. You know that.”

“And you’re good at it.” He gripped my shoulders. “Be good at it for me.”

“I can’t, for the same reason I didn’t accept help from my stepfather. I want to make it on my own!”

“I know that. I respect that about you.” His hands caressed my arms. “I clawed my way up, too, with the Cross name trying to drag me
down. I’d never take the effort away from you. You wouldn’t get anything you didn’t earn.”

I suppressed the twinge of sympathy I felt for Gideon’s suffering over his father, a Ponzi scheme swindler who’d taken his own life rather than face jail time. “Do you really think anyone is going to believe I got the job for any reason other than I’m the chick you’re sticking it to now?”

“Shut up.” He shook me. “You’re pissed off and that’s fine, but don’t talk about us that way.”

I pushed at him. “Everyone else will.”

Growling, he released me. “You signed up for a CrossTrainer membership even though you’ve got Equinox and Krav Maga. Explain why.”

I pivoted to yank a pair of panties on so I wasn’t arguing while buck naked. “That’s different.”

“It’s not.”

I faced him again, stepping on stuff that had fallen out of my purse, which only made me madder. “Waters Field and Leaman isn’t in competition with Cross Industries! You use the agency’s services yourself.”

“Do you think you’ll never work on a campaign for one of my competitors?”

Standing there in his unbuttoned vest and impeccable tie, he was making it hard for me to think properly. He was beautiful and passionate and everything I’d ever wanted, which made it nearly impossible for me to deny him anything.

“That’s not the point. I won’t be happy, Gideon,” I said with quiet honesty.

“Come here.” He held his arms open for me and hugged me when I walked into them. He spoke with his lips against my temple. “One day, the ‘Cross’ in Cross Industries won’t refer to just me.”

My anger and frustration simmered. “Can we not talk about this now?”

“One last thing: You can apply for a position just like anyone else,
if that’s the way you need to do it. I won’t interfere. If you get the job, you’d be working on a different floor of the Crossfire and climbing the career ladder all on your own. Whether you advance won’t be up to me.”

“It’s important to you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course it is. We’re working hard to build a future together. This is a natural step in that direction.”

I nodded reluctantly. “I have to be independent.”

His hand cupped my nape, holding me close. “Don’t forget what matters most. If you work hard and show skill and talent, that’s what people will base their judgments on.”