One With You

by Sylvia Day

  “Well, for what it’s worth, celibacy looks good on you.”

  He snorted. “Because I’ve put on a few pounds? Happens. You eat, because you crave the endorphins you’re not getting with an orgasm, and you get less exercise, because you’re not practicing any mattress gymnastics.”

  “Cary.” I laughed.

  “Look at you, baby girl. You’re all tight and toned from Marathon Man Cross over there.”

  Gideon looked up from his phone. “Come again?”

  “That’s what I just said, dude,” Cary drawled, winking at me. “In so many words.”

  After waiting in a line of limos discharging their passengers, we finally pulled up to the red carpet rolled out in front of a historic brick-faced building, home to a private members-only club. Paparazzi were as thick as fall leaves on the ground, lining the velvet ropes that cordoned them off from the walkway.

  Leaning forward, I looked through the open glass entrance doors and saw more photographers held back on the right side of the entrance, while logoed backdrops lined the wall on the left for event and sponsor-branded photo ops.

  Angus opened the door and I could feel the momentary expectation as the paparazzi waited to see who would step out. The moment Gideon did, it was like the mother of all lightning storms, camera flashes exploding in rapid, endless succession.

  Mr. Cross! Gideon! Look this way!

  He held his hand out to me, the rubies in his wedding band catching the light and glittering. Holding my skirt up with one hand, I made my way over to him and set my hand in his. The moment I stepped out, I was blinded, but I kept my eyes open despite the spots dancing across my vision, a practiced smile pasted on my lips.

  I straightened, Gideon’s hand settled on the small of my back, and pandemonium ensued. It somehow managed to get worse when Cary appeared. The shouts became deafening. I spotted Raúl by the entrance, his hard gaze sweeping the melee. He lifted his arm and spoke into his wrist mic, coordinating with someone under his command. When he looked at me, my smile turned genuine. He gave me a brisk nod.

  Inside, we were met by two event handlers, who kept the required photo op moving along quickly, then escorted us up an elevator to the ballroom floor.

  We stepped into a vast space filled with New York’s elite, a glamorous assembly of powerful men and perfectly presented women displayed to flattering effect by dimmed chandelier lighting and a profusion of candlelight. The atmosphere was heavily fragranced by the massive floral arrangements centering each dining table and enlivened by a society orchestra playing upbeat instrumentals through the hum of conversation.

  Gideon steered me through the groups of people clustered around the dining tables, pausing often for those who stepped into our path with greetings and congratulations. My husband had slid effortlessly, seamlessly into his public persona. Splendidly handsome, completely at ease, quietly commanding, coolly aloof.

  I, however, was stiff and edgy, though I hoped that practiced smile hid my nervousness. Gideon and I didn’t have a good track record at events like these. We ended up fighting and leaving separately. Things were different now, but still …

  His hand slid up my bared back and cupped my nape, kneading the tense muscles gently. He continued to speak to the two gentlemen who’d intercepted us, discussing market fluctuations, but I was instinctively certain that he was focused on me. I stood to his right and he shifted smoothly, sliding just a bit behind me so that the right side of his body touched my back from shoulder to knee.

  Cary reached around my shoulder and passed me a chilled flute of champagne. “I see Monica and Stanton,” he told me. “I’ll let them know we’re here.”

  I followed his direction as he closed in on where my mom stood beside her husband, her smile bright and beautiful as they talked with another couple. Stanton was elegantly handsome in his tuxedo, while my mother gleamed like a pearl in an off-white silk column dress.

  “Eva!”

  I turned at the sound of Ireland’s voice, my eyes widening as I found her rounding the nearest table. For a moment, my brain stopped processing anything but the sight of her. She was tall and willowy, her long black hair artfully arranged in a chic updo. The side slit in her sophisticated black velvet gown showed off mile-long legs, while the single-shoulder bodice cupped breasts that were the perfect size for her slender frame.

  Ireland Vidal was a stunningly beautiful girl, her thickly lashed eyes the same striking blue as her mother’s and Gideon’s. And she was only seventeen. Picturing her as the woman she would become was breathtaking. Cary wasn’t the only one who was going to set the world on fire.

  She walked right into me, hugging me tight. “We’re sisters now!”

  I smiled and hugged her back, careful not to spill my champagne on her. I glanced at Chris, who stood behind her, and he gave me a grin in return. The look in his eyes when they returned to his daughter was both tender and proud. God help the guys who set their sights on Ireland. With Chris, Christopher, and Gideon watching out for her, they would have some formidable men to get through first.

  Ireland pulled back and checked me out. “Wow. That necklace is amazing! And your boobs! I want a pair of those.”

  I laughed. “You’re perfect just the way you are. You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

  “No way. But thanks.” Her face lit up as Gideon excused himself from the conversation and turned to face her. “Hey, bro.”

  She was in his arms in an instant, hugging him as tightly as she’d hugged me. Gideon stood statue-still for a moment. Then he hugged her back, his face softening in a way that made my heart skip a beat.

  I’d spoken to Ireland briefly on the phone after Gideon’s interview, apologizing for keeping the secret of our wedding and explaining why. I wanted us to be closer than we were, but I was holding off on making too many overtures. It would be so easy to become the bridge between her and Gideon, and I didn’t want it that way. They needed to have their own connection, independent of anyone else.

  My sister-in-law would be attending Columbia University soon, like her brothers before her. She’d be close and we’d see each other more often. Until then, I would continue to encourage Gideon to foster their budding relationship.

  “Chris.” I went to him and gave him a hug, pleased with the enthusiasm with which he hugged me back. He’d cleaned up since coming over to dinner, his hair freshly trimmed and his jaw clean-shaven.

  Christopher Vidal Sr. was a quietly handsome man with a gentle gaze. There was an innate kindness in him that radiated in his voice and the way he looked at people. I’d thought so the first time I met him, and he’d done nothing to alter that first impression.

  “Gideon. Eva.” Magdalene Perez joined us, looking seductively beautiful in a sleek, emerald green gown, her arm linked with her boyfriend’s.

  It was good to see that Magdalene had moved on from her unrequited interest in Gideon, which had caused problems for Gideon and me when our relationship was just getting started. She’d been a bitter, nasty bitch then, spurred on by Gideon’s brother’s manipulations. Now that she was happy with her artist, she was serene and lovely and was slowly becoming a close acquaintance.

  Greeting them both warmly, I shook Gage Flynn’s hand as Gideon kissed Magdalene’s proffered cheek. I didn’t know Gage all that well yet, but he was obviously head over heels for Magdalene. And I knew that Gideon would’ve checked him out, making sure the guy was good enough for the woman who’d been a longtime friend of Gideon’s family.

  We were accepting their congratulations when my mother and Stanton joined us, followed by Martin and Lacey, whom we hadn’t seen since the weekend in Westport. I watched with a smile as Cary and Ireland both laughed about something shared between them.

  “What a beautiful girl,” my mother said, sipping champagne and eyeing Gideon’s sister.

  “Right?”

  “And Cary looks good.”

  “I said the same thing.”

  She looked at me with a smile.
“You should know that we’ve offered to let him keep the apartment if he likes or help him find something smaller.”

  “Oh.” My gaze went to him, catching him nodding at something Chris told him. “What did he say?”

  “That you’d offered him a private apartment adjoining Gideon’s penthouse.” She angled toward me. “You’ll all decide what works best for you, but I wanted to give him the option to stay where he is. It’s always good to have options.”

  I sighed, then nodded.

  She reached for my hand. “Now, you and Gideon are handling your public image in your own way, but you have to be aware of what those horrible gossip blogs are saying about you and Cary being lovers.”

  Suddenly, the frenzy on the red carpet made sense. The three of us, arriving together.

  “Gideon denied that he’s ever cheated on you,” she went on quietly, “but he’s now known to have, shall we say … adventurous sexual appetites. Can you imagine how rumors will fly if the three of you are living together?”

  “Oh, man.” Yeah, I could. The world had seen in graphic detail that my husband was up for a threesome. Not with another man in the mix, but even so. Those days were behind him, but they didn’t know that—and wouldn’t want to believe it anyway. It was just too salacious.

  “Before you say you don’t care, honey, realize that many people do. And if someone Gideon wants to do business with thinks he’s morally corrupt, it could cost him a fortune.”

  Really. These days, not likely, but I bit my tongue instead of making a crack about my mom’s concern about the bottom line. It always came down to that, in one way or another. “I hear you,” I muttered.

  As the time approached for the start of dinner, everyone began searching for their assigned tables. Gideon and I were at the front, of course, since he was speaking. Ireland and Chris had place cards at our table, as did Cary. My mom, Stanton, Martin, and Lacey were at the table to our right; Magdalene and Gage were further back.

  Gideon pulled my chair out for me and I moved to sit, then stopped, startled by the couple I spotted a few tables away. Straightening, I looked at Gideon. “The Lucases are here.”

  His head went up, his gaze searching. I knew the moment he spotted them by the way his jaw hardened. “So they are. Sit down, angel.”

  I sat and he pushed my chair in, taking a seat beside me. He pulled out his phone and typed out a quick text.

  Leaning toward him, I whispered, “I’ve never seen them together before.”

  His phone buzzed with a reply as he looked up at me. “They don’t go out as a couple often.”

  “Are you texting Arash?”

  “Angus.”

  “Huh? About the Lucases?”

  “Fuck ’em.” He slid his phone back into his jacket and leaned toward me, draping one arm along the back of my chair and the other on the table, caging me in. He put his lips next to my ear. “Next time we come to one of these, I’m putting you in a short skirt and you’re going to be naked underneath.”

  I was grateful everyone else was looking elsewhere and couldn’t possibly hear—and that the orchestra was playing a little louder to keep all the guests moving toward their seats. “You’re a fiend.”

  His voice dropped into a seductive purr. “I’m going to slide my hand between your thighs and slip my fingers into your soft, sweet cunt.”

  “Gideon!” Scandalized, I glanced at him and found him watching me with a feral grin and lustful eyes.

  “All through dinner, angel,” he murmured, nuzzling against my temple, “I’m going to be finger-fucking you slow and easy, working that tight perfect pussy of yours until you come for me. Again and again …”

  “Oh my God.” His low, rough voice was pure sin and sex. I shivered just from that, but his dirty talk had me sagging into my chair. “What’s gotten into you?”

  He pressed a quick, hard kiss against my cheek and straightened. “You were all knotted up. Now, you’re not.”

  If we’d been totally alone, I would’ve smacked him. I told him so.

  “You love me,” he shot back, turning to glance around the ballroom as servers began to bring out the salads.

  “Do I?”

  He focused on me again. “Yes. Madly.”

  No point in arguing. He was right.

  We were just being served dessert, a dome of chocolate cake that looked delicious, when a woman in a conservative navy gown came over to our table and crouched between Gideon and me.

  “We’re going to begin the program in about fifteen minutes,” she said. “Glen’s going to speak for a few minutes, then we’ll have you come up.”

  He nodded. “No problem. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  She smiled and I could tell she was a little flustered being that close to him. She had to be at least his mother’s age, but then women of all ages appreciated a gorgeous man.

  “Eva.” Ireland leaned toward me. “You want to take a break before he goes up?”

  I understood what she meant. “Of course.”

  Gideon and Chris pushed back from the table and pulled out our chairs. Since I’d lost all my lip gloss while eating and drinking, I pressed a kiss to my husband’s jaw.

  “I can’t wait to hear you talk,” I told him, my smile wide with anticipation.

  He shook his head. “The things that turn you on.”

  “You love me.”

  “I do. Madly.”

  Following Ireland, I weaved through the tables, passing directly by the Lucases. They watched us, looking cozy, with Dr. Terrence Lucas’s arm slung around his wife’s shoulders. Anne caught my gaze and flashed a sharp smile that made my skin crawl.

  I reached up and smoothed my middle finger over my brow in a subtle but obvious fuck you.

  Ireland and I had moved a few tables farther when she abruptly stopped in front of me.

  I bumped into her back. “Sorry.”

  When she didn’t continue forward, I angled around her to see what was blocking our way. “What’s going on?”

  She turned to look at me. Her eyes were bright with tears. “It’s Rick,” she said, her voice wavering.

  “Who?” My brain scrambled to catch up. She looked so hurt. And lost. The connection suddenly clicked. “Your boyfriend?”

  She turned her head forward again and I tried to track her attention, searching the packed tables for … someone. “Where? What does he look like?”

  “Right there.” She gave a hard jerk of her chin and I spotted tears running down her face. “With the blonde in the red dress.”

  Where? I found a few possibilities, then zeroed in on the youngest couple. One look at him and I knew the type. I used to fall for them, too. Confident, sexually experienced, all the right lines. I felt a bit sick thinking about how many guys like that I’d once let use me.

  Then I got pissed. Rick was giving the girl plastered to his side a cocky, sexy smile. They certainly weren’t just friends. Not when they were both eye-fucking each other.

  I caught Ireland by the elbow and guided her forward. “Keep walking.”

  We got to the ladies’ room. The sudden quiet when we stepped inside made it possible to hear her sobbing. I pulled her aside in the vanity area, thankful we were the only ones there, and handed her some tissues I pulled out of the box on the counter.

  “He told me he had to work tonight,” she said. “That’s why I said yes when Dad asked me if I wanted to come.”

  “This is the guy who won’t tell his parents about you because of Gideon’s father?”

  She nodded. “They’re out there. Sitting with him.”

  It was coming back to me, that conversation we’d had during the launch of the Six-Ninths music video. Rick’s grandparents had lost a chunk of their wealth to Geoffrey Cross’s Ponzi scheme. They thought it was “convenient” that Gideon was one of the wealthiest men in the world now, even though it was evident to anyone who looked that he’d built his empire with his own hard work and capital.

  But then, Rick wa
s probably just making excuses to juggle multiple dates. After all, his parents were here and Gideon was the star attraction. Made me question whether the animosity he’d told her about was bullshit.

  “He told me he’d broken up with her months ago!” she cried.

  “The blonde?”

  Sniffling, she nodded again. “I just saw him last night. He didn’t say anything about getting the night off and coming here.”

  “Did you mention that you would be here?”

  “No. I don’t talk about Gideon. Not with him, anyway.”

  Was Rick just a young, dumb kid getting his rocks off with every pretty girl who’d let him? Or was he screwing with Gideon’s sister as some sort of twisted payback? In any case, the guy was a douche.

  “Don’t cry over that loser, Ireland.” I got her more tissue. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

  “I just want to go home.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not going to help. Honestly, nothing’s going to help. It’s going to hurt for a while. But you can get back at him if you want to. That might feel good.”

  She looked at me, tears still streaming. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve got one of the hottest male models in New York sitting by you. Just say the word and Cary will become your very attentive, very crazy-about-you date.” The more I thought of it, the more I liked it. “Together you can run into Rick and oops … well, hellooo. Fancy seeing you here. But what can he say? He’s got the blonde. And you get to walk away with an even score.”

  Ireland started shaking. “Maybe I should just talk to him …”

  Magdalene stepped into the ladies’ room and paused, assessing the situation. “Ireland. What’s wrong?”

  I kept my mouth shut, since it wasn’t my story to share.

  Ireland shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m okay.”

  “All right.” Magdalene looked at me. “I won’t pry, but you should know that I’d never share anything with your brothers if you told me not to.”

  It took her a moment, and then Ireland spoke through her tears. “This guy I’ve been seeing for a couple months now … he’s out there with someone else. His old girlfriend.”