by Sylvia Day
“Miss Tramell is here for you.”
I leaned over the desk again, tapping the button that opened the doors. A moment later, Eva walked in.
Would the day ever come when I would see her and not feel the earth shift beneath my feet?
She came to an abrupt halt, giving me the pleasure of taking in the sight of her. Eva was a natural blonde, with pale streaks framing a delicate face and accentuating stormy gray eyes that I could spend hours looking into—and had. She was petite but dangerously curved, her body deliciously soft to roll around with in bed.
I might’ve called her angelically beautiful, if not for the lush sensuality that always made me think of and crave wickedly raw sex.
Without volition, my mind filled with the memory of her scent and the feel of her beneath my hands. The throaty laugh that brought me joy and the fiery quick temper that rocked me on my feet were visceral recollections. Everything in me thrummed to life, a surge of energy and awareness I felt at no other time than when I was with her.
Corinne spoke first. “Hello, Eva.”
I bristled. The urge to shield and protect the most valuable thing in my life overrode any other consideration.
Straightening, I tossed the photo back in the box and went to my wife. Compared to Corinne, she was dressed demurely in a black pinstriped skirt and a sleeveless silk blouse that gleamed like a pearl. The surge of heat I felt was all the proof I needed as to which woman was sexier.
Eva. Now and forever.
The pull I felt drew me across the room in long, quick strides.
Angel.
I didn’t say the word aloud, didn’t want Corinne to hear it. But I could see that Eva felt it. I reached for her hand, felt a tingle of deep recognition that tightened my grip.
She shifted to look past me and acknowledge the woman who was no rival. “Corinne.”
I didn’t turn to look.
“I have to run,” Corinne said behind me. “Those copies are for you, Gideon.”
Unable to take my gaze off Eva, I spoke over my shoulder. “Take them with you. I don’t want them.”
“You should finish going through them,” she countered, approaching.
“Why?” Aggravated, I glanced at Corinne when she stopped next to us. “If I have any interest in seeing them, I can always flip through your book.”
Her smile tightened. “Good-bye, Eva. Gideon.”
As she left, I took another step toward my wife, closing the final bit of distance between us. I caught her other hand, leaning over her to breathe in the scent of her perfume. Calm drifted through me.
“I’m glad you came.” I whispered the words against her forehead, needing every connection I could manage. “I miss you so much.”
Closing her eyes, she leaned into me with a sigh.
Feeling the lingering strain in her, I tightened my grip on her hands. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”
“Neither was I.” As much as I hated to pull away, I hated the thought of those photos even more.
Returning to my desk, I put the lid back on the box and tossed the whole thing into the trash.
“I quit my job,” she said. “Tomorrow’s my last day.”
That decision was one I’d wanted her to come to. I believed it was the best and safest step for her to take. But I knew what a difficult conclusion it must have been for her to make. Eva loved her job and the people she worked with.
Knowing how well she could read me, I kept my tone neutral. “Did you?”
“Yep.”
I studied her. “What’s next for you, then?”
“I’ve got a wedding to plan.”
“Ah.” My mouth curved. After days of fearing she had second thoughts and wanted out of our marriage, it was a relief to hear otherwise. “Good to know.”
I beckoned her closer with a crook of my finger.
“Meet me halfway,” she shot back, with a glint of challenge in her eyes.
How could I resist? We met in the middle of the room.
That was why we were going to get past this and every other hurdle we faced: We would always meet each other halfway.
She wouldn’t ever be the docile wife my friend Arnoldo Ricci had wished for me. Eva was too independent, too fierce. She had a jealous streak a mile wide. She was demanding and stubborn, and she defied me just to drive me crazy.
And that friction worked in a way it never could have with any other woman, because Eva was meant for me. I believed that as I believed in nothing else.
“Is this what you want?” I asked her quietly, searching her face for the answer.
“You’re what I want. The rest is just logistics.”
My mouth was suddenly dry and my heartbeat too quick. When she lifted a hand to brush my hair back I caught her wrist and pressed her palm to my cheek, my eyes closing as I absorbed her touch.
The past week melted away. The days we’d spent apart, the hours of silence, the crippling fear … She’d been showing me all day that she was ready to move ahead, that I’d made the right decision to talk to Dr. Petersen. To talk to her.
Not only didn’t she turn away, she wanted me more. And she called me miraculous?
Eva sighed. I felt the last of her tension drift away. We stood there, reconnecting with each other, taking the strength we needed. It shook me to the core to know that I could bring her some measure of peace.
And what had she brought me?
Everything.
The way Angus’s face brightened when Eva exited the Crossfire Building moved me in ways I could never explain. Angus McLeod was quiet by nature and by training. He rarely showed any emotion at all, but he made an exception for Eva.
Or maybe he couldn’t help himself. God knew I couldn’t.
“Angus.” Eva flashed him her bright, open smile. “You’re looking especially dapper today.”
I watched as the man I loved like a father touched the brim of his chauffeur’s hat and smiled back with an amusing touch of embarrassment.
After my dad’s suicide, my entire life was upended. In the messy years that followed, the one point of stability had been Angus, a man hired to be a driver and bodyguard but who turned out to be a lifeline instead. At a time when I felt isolated and betrayed, when even my own mother refused to believe I’d been repeatedly raped by the therapist who was supposed to help me adjust, Angus had been the one to anchor me. He never doubted me. And when I struck out on my own, he’d come with me.
As my wife’s sleek, toned legs slid out of view into the backseat of the Bentley, Angus spoke. “Let’s not muck it up this time, lad.”
My mouth twisted ruefully. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I joined Eva, settling in as Angus rounded the car to reach the driver’s seat. I set my hand on her thigh and waited for her to look at me. “I want to take you to the beach house this weekend.”
She held her breath a moment, then released it in a rush. “My mom invited us up to Westport. Stanton’s asked his nephew, Martin, to come, and Martin’s girlfriend, Lacey—she’s Megumi’s roommate, I don’t know if you remember …. Cary will be there, too, of course. Anyway, I said we’d come.”
Wrestling with disappointment, I considered my options.
“I want us to do some family things,” she went on. “Plus, my mom wants to talk about this plan I have.”
I listened as she related her lunchtime conversation with Monica.
Eva studied my face as she finished. “She said you wouldn’t like the idea, but you’ve used the paparazzi before, when you dipped me on the sidewalk and kissed me until I couldn’t think straight. You wanted that picture out there.”
“Yes, but the opportunity presented itself, I didn’t seek it out. Your mother’s right—there is a difference.”
Her lower lip curved downward, and I revised my strategy. I wanted her involved and actively participating. That meant encouragement and acknowledgment, not roadblocks. “But you�
�re also right, angel. If there’s an audience for Corinne’s book, there’s a market void that needs to be filled and we should address that.”
The smile she beamed at me was its own reward.
“I was thinking we could ask Cary to take some candid photos of us this weekend,” she said. “Some moments that are more personal and casual than red carpet photo ops. We can sell the ones we like best to the media and donate the proceeds to Crossroads.”
The charitable foundation I’d established had plenty of funding, but I understood that raising money was a side benefit to Eva’s plan to mitigate the impact of Corinne’s tell-all book. Because I regretted the pain the situation was bound to cause my wife, I was prepared to support her in whatever way she needed, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight for a weekend alone with her.
“We can make it a day trip,” I suggested, beginning the negotiation at the extreme, which gave me room to whittle down. “We can spend Friday night through Sunday morning in North Carolina, then spend Sunday in Westport.”
“Go from North Carolina to Connecticut to Manhattan in a day? Are you nuts?”
“Friday night through Saturday night, then.”
“We can’t be alone like that, Gideon,” she said softly, setting her hand over mine. “We need to follow Dr. Petersen’s advice for a while. I think we need to spend some time dating, going out in public, figuring out how to take care of … issues without using sex as a crutch.”
I stared at her. “You’re not saying we can’t have sex.”
“Just until we’re married. It won’t be—”
“Eva, we’re already married. You can’t ask me to keep my hands off you.”
“I am asking.”
“No.”
Her mouth twitched. “You can’t say no.”
“You can’t say no,” I countered, my heart beginning to pound. My palms grew damp, a low-grade panic beginning to set in. It was irrational, infuriating. “You want me as much as I want you.”
She touched my face. “I sometimes think I want you more, and I’m okay with that. But Dr. Petersen’s right. We moved so fast and we’ve been hitting all the speed bumps at a hundred miles per hour. I feel like we have this little window of time when we can slow down. Just for a few weeks, until the wedding.”
“A few weeks? Christ, Eva.” I pulled away, running my hand through my hair. Turning my head, I looked out the window. My mind was racing. What did this mean? Why would she ask?
How the fuck was I going to talk her out of it?
I felt her slide closer, then curl up against me.
Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Weren’t you the one who brought up the benefits of delayed gratification?”
I shot her a look. “And how well did that turn out?”
That night was one of the bigger mistakes I’d made in our relationship. The evening started out so strong, and then Corinne’s unexpected appearance threw everything off, spurring one of the worst arguments Eva and I ever had—an argument made more volatile by the seething sexual tension I’d deliberately stoked and held off on satisfying.
“We were different people then.” Eva drew back, her gray eyes clear as they held mine. “You’re not the same man who ignored me at that dinner.”
“I didn’t ignore you.”
“And I’m not the same woman,” she pushed on. “Yes, seeing Corinne today made me a little twitchy, but I know she’s not a threat. I know you’re committed …. We’re committed. That’s why we can do this.”
The spread of my legs widened as I stretched out. “I don’t want to.”
“I don’t either. But I think it’s a good idea.” Her mouth softened with a smile. “It’s old-fashioned and romantic to wait ’til the wedding night. Think how hot the sex will be when we do it.”
“Eva, we don’t need our sex life to be any hotter.”
“We need it to be something we do for fun, not because we’re counting on it to hold us together.”
“It’s both, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” She might as well have asked me not to eat, which I would’ve been more inclined to agree to, given the choice.
“Gideon … we have something amazing together. It’s worth the effort to make us rock solid in every way.”
I shook my head. It pissed me off that I was feeling anxious. It was a loss of control and I couldn’t have that with her. It wasn’t what she needed.
Leaning forward, I put my lips to her ear. “Angel, if you’re not missing the feel of my cock inside you, I need to step it up, not hold back.”
Her shiver made me smile inwardly. Still, she whispered, “Please try. For me.”
“Fuck.” I dropped back into my seat. As much as I wanted to say no to her, I couldn’t. Not even about this. “Damn it.”
“Don’t be mad. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important to try. And it’s such a short time.”
“Eva, five minutes would be a short amount of time. You’re talking weeks.”
“Baby …” She laughed softly. “You’re pouting. It’s so adorable.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to my cheek. “And really flattering. Thank you.”
My gaze narrowed. “I’m not agreeing to make this easy for you.”
She trailed her fingers down my tie. “Of course not. We’ll try to make it fun. A challenge. See who breaks first.”
“Me,” I muttered. “I’ve got no fucking incentive to win this.”
“How about me? Wrapped up in a bow—and nothing else—as your birthday present?”
I scowled. Nothing was capable of making this more palatable. Even the thought of her bursting out of a cake naked couldn’t make this better. “What does my birthday have to do with anything?”
Eva dazzled me with her smile, which only made me want her more. She was sunlight and warmth at any time, but when she was beneath me, writhing in pleasure and moaning for harder … deeper …
“That’s when we’re getting married.”
It took a second for that to sink into my lust-addled brain. “I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t either, until today. On my last break, I went online, trying to see if there was anything happening in September or October that I should consider when setting a date. Since we’re getting married on the beach, we don’t want it to be too cold, so we’ve got to get it done this month or next.”
“Thank God for winter,” I grumbled.
“Fiend. Anyway … I got a Google alert about you—”
“You’re still doing that?”
“—and there was a post about us on this fan site. There was—”
“Fan site?”
“Yep. There are whole sites and blogs dedicated to you. What you’re wearing, who you’re dating, events you’re attending.”
“Jesus.”
“The one I went to had all your stats: height, weight, eye color, birth date … everything. To be honest, it freaked me out a little that some total stranger knew other details about you that I don’t, which is another reason why I think we need to date each other and talk more—”
“I can recite stats while we’re fucking. Problem solved.”
Her grin was delighted. “You slay me. Anyway, having the wedding on your birthday is a good idea, don’t you think? You’ll never forget our anniversary.”
“Our wedding anniversary is August eleventh,” I reminded her dryly.
“We’ll have two to celebrate.” She ran her hand through my hair, tripping my pulse. “Or better yet, we’ll celebrate straight through from one to the other.”
August 11 through September 22—a full month and a half. The thought of that was almost enough to make the next few weeks bearable.
“Eva. Gideon.” Dr. Lyle Petersen stood and smiled as we walked into his office. He was a tall man, and his gaze lowered a noticeable distance to take in our linked hands. “You’re both looking well.”
“I feel good,” Eva said, sounding strong and sure.
I didn’t say anyth
ing, extending my hand to shake his.
The good doctor knew things about me I’d hoped never to share with anyone. Because of that, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with him, despite the soothing blend of neutral colors and comfortable furniture that made up his office. Dr. Petersen himself was a comfortable man, easy in his own skin. His neatly groomed gray hair did much to soften his appearance but couldn’t distract from how incisive and perceptive he was.
It was hard to rely on someone who knew so much my vulnerabilities, but I dealt with it as best I could because I had no other choice—Dr. Petersen was a pivotal player in my marriage.
Eva and I took seats on the sofa, while Dr. Petersen settled into his usual wingback chair. He left his tablet and stylus sitting on the arm and studied us with dark blue eyes that were sharp with intelligence.
“Gideon,” he began, “tell me what’s happened since I saw you on Tuesday.”
I settled back and got to the point. “Eva’s decided to follow your recommendation to abstain from sex until we marry publicly.”
Eva’s low, husky laugh broke out. She leaned into me, hugging my arm. “Did you catch the note of accusation?” she asked the doctor. “It’s all your fault he’s not going to get any for a couple weeks.”
“It’s more than two weeks,” I argued.
“But less than three,” she shot back. She smiled at Dr. Petersen. “I should’ve known he’d bring that up first.”
“What would you start with, Eva?” he asked.
“Gideon told me the details about his nightmare last night.” She glanced at me. “That was huge. It’s a really big turning point for us.”
There was no mistaking the love in her eyes when she spoke, or the gratitude and hope. It tightened my throat to see it. Talking to her about the fucked-up shit in my head was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do—even telling Dr. Petersen about Hugh had been easier—but it was all worth it just to see that look on her face.
The ugliest things about each other brought us closer. It was crazy and it was wonderful. I pulled her hand into my lap, cupping it with both of mine. I felt the same love, gratitude, and hope that she did.
Dr. Petersen picked up his tablet. “Quite a few revelations for you this week, Gideon. What brought them on?”