by Sylvia Day
She recoiled, stumbling back until she bumped into the chair behind her.
“He sedated me,” I went on, remembering it still. The prick of the needle. The cold table. The shame as he poked and prodded a part of my body that made me tremble with revulsion. “He examined me. Then he lied.”
“How would I know that?” she whispered, her eyes so strikingly blue in her pale face.
“You knew,” I said flatly. “I remember your face afterward, when you told me Hugh wasn’t coming back and to never bring it up again. You could barely look at me, but when you did, I saw it in your eyes.”
I looked at Eva. She was crying, with her arms wrapped tight around herself. My eyes stung, but she was the one who wept for me.
“Did you think Chris would leave you?” I wondered aloud. “Did you think it was too much for your new family to take? For years, I thought you told him—I heard you mention Dr. Lucas to him—but Chris didn’t know. Tell me what reason a wife would have to keep something like that from her husband.”
My mother didn’t speak, just shook her head over and over, as if that silent denial answered everything.
My fist hit my desk, rattling everything on top of it. “Say something!”
“You’re wrong. Wrong. It’s all twisted up for you. You don’t …” She shook her head again. “It didn’t happen that way. You’re confused …”
Eva stared at my mother’s back with a visible, heated rage. Loathing tightened her mouth and jaw. It hit me then that I could let her carry that burden for me. I had to put it down. I didn’t need it anymore. Didn’t want it.
I had done the same for her in a different sense, with Nathan. The action I’d taken had chased the shadows from her eyes. They lived in me now, as they should. She’d been haunted by them long enough.
My chest expanded on a deep, slow breath. When I let it out, all the anger and disgust went with it. I stood there for a long moment, absorbing the dizzying lightness I felt. There was grief, a profound anguish that burned in my chest. And resignation. A clarifying, terrible acceptance. But it weighed on me so much less than the desperate hope I’d harbored: that one day my mother would love me enough to accept the truth.
That hope was dead.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s end this. I won’t be going to see Corinne. And I won’t apologize for telling the truth. I’m done with that.”
My mother didn’t move for a long moment.
Then she turned away from me without a word and walked to the door. A moment more and she was gone, lost on the other side of the frosted glass.
I looked at Eva. She started toward me and I went to her, rounding my desk to meet her partway. She hugged me so tightly I could hardly breathe.
But I didn’t need air. I had her.
13
As I straightened Gideon’s bow tie, I asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He caught my wrists and applied steady, solid pressure.
The familiar authoritative grip spurred a conditioned response. It grounded me. Heightened my awareness of him, of me. Of us. My breathing quickened.
“Stop asking.” His voice was soft. “I’m fine.”
“When a woman says she’s fine, it means she’s anything but.”
“I’m not a woman.”
“Duh.”
A hint of a smile softened his mouth. “And when a man says he’s fine, it means he is.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to my forehead and released me. Then, he went to the drawer that held his cuff links and studied the selection thoughtfully.
Gideon was long and lean in his bespoke trousers and white formal shirt. He had on black socks, but his shoes and jacket were still waiting their turn to grace his body.
There was something about seeing him in that partially dressed state that turned me on wildly. It was an intimacy that was mine alone and I cherished it.
I was reminded of what Dr. Petersen had said. Maybe I’d have to spend some nights sleeping apart from my husband. Not forever, but for now. Still, I had these other precious pieces of him and they sustained me.
“A man. What about my man?” I countered, working hard not to get distracted by how hot he looked. The problem was his distance. There wasn’t a trace of the razor-sharp focus on me that I was used to. Part of his mind was somewhere else, and I worried that it was a dark place where he shouldn’t be alone. “That’s the only one I care about.”
“Angel. You’ve been telling me to have it out with my mother for months. I’ve done it. It’s over and behind us.”
“How do you feel about it, though? It has to hurt, Gideon. Please don’t hide it from me, if it does.”
His fingers drummed into the top of the built-in dresser, his gaze still focused on his damned cuff links. “It hurts. Okay? But I knew it would. That’s why I put it off so long. But it’s better this way. I feel … Fuck. It’s settled.”
My lips pursed. Because I wanted him to look at me when he was saying stuff like that, I untied my robe and let the silk whisper off my shoulders. I turned away to hang it by the closet door, stepping over Lucky, who’d passed out right in the middle of the floor. I arched my back as I reached for the hook, giving Gideon a prime view of the ass he loved.
As I had come to expect of my husband, he’d gifted me with a new dress for the occasion, a gorgeous dove gray gown with a beaded bodice and lightly layered diaphanous skirt that drifted like smoke when I moved.
Because of the plunging neckline—which I knew from experience would bring out his inner caveman—I’d chosen a bra designed to put my boobs on display. Together with the matching underwear, smoky eyes, and glossy lips, I looked like expensive sex.
When I faced him again, my husband was just how I wanted him—frozen in place with his eyes on me.
“I need you to promise me something, ace.”
He raked me from head to toe with a scorching glance. “At the moment, I’ll promise you anything.”
“Just this moment?” I pouted.
He muttered something and walked over to me, cupping my face in his hands. Finally, he was with me. One hundred percent. “And the next, and the next after that.” His gaze caressed my face. “What do you need, angel mine?”
I caught him by the hips, searched his eyes. “You. Just you. Happy and whole and madly in love with me.” The elegant arch of his brows lifted slightly, as if being happy seemed like a dubious proposition. “You’re so sad. It’s killing me.”
A soft sigh left him and I watched the tension drain away with it. “I don’t know why I wasn’t better prepared. She’s incapable of accepting what happened. If she can’t do it to save her marriage, she sure as hell won’t do it for me.”
“There’s something missing in her, Gideon. Something essential. Don’t you dare believe this has anything to do with you.”
His mouth twisted wryly. “Between her and my dad … Not the greatest gene pool, is it?”
Sliding my fingers into the tailored waistband of his trousers, I yanked him closer. “Listen, ace. Your parents both buckled under pressure and put themselves first. Reality is something they can’t face. But guess what? You didn’t get any of their flaws. Not a single one.”
“Eva—”
“You, Gideon Geoffrey Cross, are the distillation of what’s best about them. Individually, they don’t amount to much. But together … Man, did they hit it out of the park with you.”
Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t need this, Eva.”
“I’m not bullshitting you. You don’t have any problem with reality. You face it head on and tackle that bitch to the ground.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“You’ve got a right to be hurt and pissed, Gideon. I’m pissed, too. They’re not worthy of you. That doesn’t make you less, it makes you more. I wouldn’t have married you if you weren’t a good man, someone I respect and admire. You inspire me, don’t you know that?”
His hand slid through my hair to my nape. “Angel.” His forehead touched mine.
I caressed his back, feeling the warm hard muscle beneath his shirt. “Grieve if you have to, but don’t close up and blame yourself. I won’t let you.”
“No, you won’t.” He nudged my head back and kissed the tip of my nose. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything.”
“You were right. I needed to get it out and confront her. I never would have, if not for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
Gideon looked at me with such love, my breath caught. “Yes, I do.”
His smartphone chimed with an incoming text. He pressed his lips to my forehead, then moved to the dresser to read the message. “Raúl’s on his way with Cary.”
“I better get dressed, then. I need you to fasten me up.”
“Always my pleasure.”
Pulling the gown off its hanger, I stepped into it and slid my arms into the heavily beaded straps. My husband made quick work of the hook-and-eye fastening that rested just above the small of my back. I watched in the full-length mirror, biting my lower lip as the bodice tightened and settled into place where I’d thought it would. The neckline plunged to a spot halfway between my cleavage and my navel.
It was outrageously sexy, the kind of revealing style smaller-breasted women pulled off easily. On me, it was risqué, although the rest of the gown covered everything except my back and arms. I’d decided against jewelry to tone down the effect as much as I could. Still, it was a beautiful dress and we were a young couple. We could pull it off.
Gideon’s gaze met mine in the mirror. I gave him my best innocent look and waited for him to see how much of my assets he’d put on display.
The storm started brewing with a faint line between his brows. That quickly progressed into a full-on scowl. He tugged at the straps from the back.
“Is there a problem?” I asked sweetly.
His gaze narrowed. Reaching around with both hands, he slid his fingers into my cleavage and tried pushing my breasts apart to hide the curves beneath the thick straps.
I hummed and leaned against him.
Taking my shoulders, he straightened me up so he could study the fit. “It didn’t look like that in the photo.”
Deliberately misunderstanding him, I told him, “I haven’t put my heels on yet. It won’t drag on the ground when I do.”
“I’m not worried about the bottom,” he said tightly. “We need to put something in that middle part.”
“Why would we do that?”
“You know damned well why.” He prowled over to the dresser and yanked a drawer open. A moment later, he came back and thrust a white handkerchief toward me. “Put that in there.”
I laughed. “Oh my God. You’re kidding.”
But he wasn’t. Reaching around from behind me, he shoved the unfolded cloth into my bodice, tucking it into either side.
“No,” I told him crossly. “That looks ridiculous.”
When his hands fell away, I gave him a second to see how stupid it looked. “Forget it. I’ll wear something else.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding and shoving his hands in his pockets.
I tugged the handkerchief out.
“Something like this,” he murmured.
Sparks of fire shot out of his hands as he reached over my head and wrapped a dazzling diamond choker around my neck. At least two inches wide, it hugged the base of my throat and glittered as if lit from within.
“Gideon.” I touched it with trembling fingers as he fastened it securely. “It’s … gorgeous.”
His arms wrapped around my waist, his lips touching my temple. “You’re gorgeous. The necklace is just pretty.”
I turned in his embrace and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
The quick flash of his smile made my toes curl into the carpet.
Smiling back, I said, “I thought you were serious about my boobs.”
“Angel, I take your tits very seriously. So tonight, when someone ogles them, they’ll realize you’re much too expensive and they couldn’t possibly afford you.”
I smacked his shoulder. “Shut up.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dresser. He reached into the open drawer and pulled out a diamond cuff. I watched, stunned, as he slid it around my wrist. That was followed by a velvet box, which he opened to show me the diamond teardrop earrings inside. “You should put these on yourself.”
I gaped at them, then at him.
Gideon just smiled. “You’re priceless. The necklace alone wasn’t going to get the message across.”
Staring at him, I couldn’t find the words to say anything.
My silence turned his smile into a wicked grin. “When we get home, I’m going to fuck you while you’re wearing diamonds and nothing else.”
The erotic image that popped into my mind sent a shiver through me.
Catching my shoulders, he turned me around and swatted my ass. “You look sensational. From every angle. Now, stop distracting me and let me get ready.”
I grabbed my sparkly heels off the shoe rack and left the closet, more dazzled by my husband than by the jewels he’d given me.
“You look like a million dollars.” Cary pulled back from my hug and checked me out. “Actually, I think you’re wearing a million dollars. Jesus. I was so blinded by your bling I almost missed that you’d let your girls come out and play.”
“That’s Gideon’s point,” I said dryly, giving a turn to set the skirt of my gown drifting around my legs. “You, of course, are gorgeous.”
He gave me his famous bad-boy grin. “I know.”
I had to laugh. I thought most men looked good in a tuxedo. Cary, however, looked amazing. Very dapper. Like a Rock Hudson or Cary Grant. The combination of his roguish charm and stunning good looks made him irresistible. He’d put on a little weight. Not enough to change his clothing size, but enough to fill out his face a little more. He looked good and healthy, which was rarer than it should be.
Gideon, on the other hand, was more … 007. Lethally sexy, with a refined edge of danger. He entered the living room and I could only stare helplessly, riveted by the graceful elegance of his chiseled body, that easy commanding stride which hinted at how amazing he was in bed.
Mine. All mine.
“I put Lucky in his crate,” he said, joining us. “We ready?”
Cary gave a decisive nod. “Let’s hit it.”
We took the elevator down to the garage, where Angus waited with the limo. I climbed in first and chose the long bench, knowing Cary would sit beside me while Gideon took his usual seat in the back.
I’d had so little time with Cary lately. Fashion Week had kept him super busy, and since I was spending the nights at the penthouse, we didn’t even have a chance for quick chats in the evening or coffee in the morning.
Cary looked at Gideon and gestured at the bar before we rolled out. “You mind?”
“Help yourself.”
“Either of you want something?”
I considered. “Kingsman and cranberry, please.”
Gideon shot me a warm look. “I’ll have the same.”
Cary poured and served, then sat back with a beer and took a deep pull straight out of the bottle. “So,” he began, “I’m flying to London next week for a shoot.”
“Really?” I sat forward. “That’s wonderful, Cary! Your first international job.”
“Yeah.” He smiled into his beer, then looked at me. “I’m stoked.”
“Wow. Everything has happened so fast for you.” A few months ago we’d still been living in San Diego. “You’re going to take the world by storm.”
I managed a smile. I was truly, genuinely happy for my best friend. But I could picture a time, in the not-so-distant future, when we’d both be so busy and traveling so often we would rarely see each other. It made my eyes sting to think of it. We were closing a chapter of our lives and I mourned a little for the end, even knowing that the best was yet to come for both of us.
Cary ra
ised his bottle in a silent toast. “That’s the plan.”
“How’s Tatiana?”
His smile grew tight, his eyes hard. “She says she’s dating someone. She moves quick when she sees something she likes, always has.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“No.” He started peeling the label off his beer bottle. “Some dude’s blowing his load where my baby is. I think that’s sick.” He glanced at Gideon. “Can you imagine?”
“No one wants me imagining that,” he answered, in that even tone that screamed danger.
“Right? It’s fucked up. But I can’t stop her and I’m not getting back together with her, so … It is what it is.”
“God.” I reached for his hand and held it. “That’s tough. I’m sorry.”
“We’re being civil to each other,” he said with a shrug. “She’s less of a bitch when she’s getting laid regularly.”
“So you guys are talking a lot?”
“I check in with her every day, make sure she’s got what she needs. Told her I was good for whatever—except my dick, of course.” He heaved out his breath. “It’s depressing. Without sex, we really don’t have anything to say to each other. So we talk about work. We’ve got that in common, at least.”
“Did you tell her about London?”
“Hell, no.” Cary squeezed my hand. “Had to tell my best girl first. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
I debated bringing up the question, but I couldn’t help myself. “And Trey? Anything there?”
“Not really. I send him a text or photo every couple days. Stupid shit. Stuff I’d send you.”
“So no dick pics?” I teased.
“Yeah, no. I’m trying to keep it real with him. He thinks I’m oversexed—which he totally doesn’t mind when he’s in bed with me—but whatever. I send him something every now and then, and he replies, but that’s it.”
My nose wrinkled. I looked at Gideon and found him typing something into his phone.
Cary took another drink, his throat working on a hard swallow. “It’s not a relationship. Not even friendship at this point. For all I know, he could be seeing someone, too, and I’m the odd man out.”