by Kadi Dillon
“We knocked her into the water.” When Rose turned and glared at Gideon, he threw his hands up in defense. “It was an accident. I went in after her.”
“Just what were you doing to have managed to accidently knock her in the water?”
“What do you think?”
Rose glared at Colin. “You boys ought to learn how to use your words. They used to fight a lot as boys,” Rose murmured to Rebecca.
“That’s why they have brain damage,” Jess said solemnly.
“You want brain damage?” Gideon grabbed Jess around the waist and kept her in his arm. “We really are sorry, Rebecca.”
“It’s fine.” Now that the chills had passed, her mind was working again. “Something’s inside the painting. We should see what it is.” She told the remaining three the modified version of what Molly had told her leaving out the part about her sleeping with her father. She ignored Gideon’s searching gaze. He knew there was more and he wanted to know what it was.
When she was finished, Gideon left the room without a word, returning a minute later with the wrapped painting. He handed it to Rebecca along with his pocket-knife. She took the knife and cut through the cloth wrap then pierced it in the side of the canvas. She dragged the knife down the canvas before handing back to Gideon.
It was filled with bubble wrap. She reached in and pulled it out. Ripping tape, she removed a thin box from the plastic covering and simply stared at it. With shaking fingers, she flipped the lid and sighed.
“It’s a cell phone.” Rebecca took it out of the box and saw a yellow post-it note that had the number one written on it.
“What does ‘one’ mean?”
Rebecca glanced up at Gideon. “Speed dial number one, maybe. It’ll be his number, I’m sure.”
“Call it.”
Seeing no point in requesting privacy, Rebecca held the number one down and waited for it to connect. Gideon lowered his head to the phone to hear the conversation. Her father answered on the third ring, his voice bright and cheery.
“I got your message,” she said dryly.
“I see. And how are you, Becca?”
“What the hell are you doing?” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. How dare he act as if nothing were wrong after he’d turned her life upside down?
“Sitting on the beach drinking a mimosa.”
Gideon snorted.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Why did you leave the painting with me? You do know there are people after me to get it, don’t you?”
“Put it on speaker.” She obeyed Gideon’s quiet command all though dread curdled in her stomach. It was absolutely humiliating to display her uneasy relationship with her father.
“I heard you booted one of them in the balls and shook them off what? Three times now?”
“Something like that.”
“Becca.” His voice was chiding and amused. It set her teeth on edge. “I really thought you’d just give them the painting.”
“They didn’t just want the painting, Dad. They wanted me with it. Probably as collateral until you gave them back the money you stole from them.”
“It’s not stealing,” he said defensively. “They gave me the money.”
“After you scammed them.”
“I’m not responsible for their carelessness.”
It was an old argument that Rebecca didn’t feel like getting into. Austin Channing honestly believed he wasn’t a criminal.
“That’s not even the point. These guys are after me and now I’ve put other people in danger. You need to come get the stupid painting so they’ll leave me alone.”
“I step back in Cleveland right now, I’m dead. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not.”
“Look, I’m sorry if it’s causing you problems, but my hands are tied. It’ll die down and they’ll stop bothering you when they realize it’s all over.”
“And if it doesn’t?” she demanded. “If they kill me first, Dad?”
“Then they won’t have anything to bargain with, now will they?”
So that was it, she mused. She’d been reduced to his bartering tool, an expendable diversion while he was safe. Nausea rolled in her stomach. She was glad she was sitting down. She wanted nothing more than to reduce to a puddle of misery on the floor.
“I guess they won’t. Why go after a daughter you don’t give two shits about? Why not your little bubble-brained whore?”
“I do care about you, Becca. I wish I could have been around more.”
“Yes, so you’ve said.”
“And don’t call Molly a whore, love. Although judgment’s still out on the bubble-brained part.” He laughed and it was like nails on a chalkboard to her already shredded nerves.
“Did you figure that out before or after you slept with her?”
“Oh, way before. I’m not stupid.” She heard a faint beeping on the other end of the line, probably the microwave. She could just picture him leaning against the counter waiting for his damn TV dinner. He’d obviously lied about being on a beach.
“You’re wrong about that.” Now it was her turn to sound bored. She managed it well enough while the hurt and devastation went to war inside her. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not my problem anymore. I don’t want to ever see you again, do you hear? Come get the damn painting and if you get shot in the process, it’s no more than you deserve.”
“Don’t be like this. You know how it all shakes down in the end. Call me back when you’re more reasonable and we’ll talk. Bye, now.” The phone clicked a second before she dropped it back in the box. The room was quiet. So quiet that it took her a minute before she remembered that the entire Avery family stood behind her. Shame washed over her.
“I apologize.” Was that small, dismal voice hers?
“Are you okay, honey?” Rose’s quiet voice broke the last thread of control. A dry sob worked its way from her throat, but there were no tears. She held on to that. Her chest hurt from a pressure so huge, she hunched her shoulders against the pain. “Come, on. Jess, help me get her to bed.”
“I’ll do it.”
She felt Gideon’s warm hands on her arms as he helped her stand. Her fingers dug into the soft blanket that was failing to provide her cold body any warmth. She walked in front of Gideon and would have kept walking to her room, but he pulled her into his bedroom.
She hadn’t been in his room yet, she mused—glad her thoughts were on him now. It was smaller than hers and more cluttered. Far from organized, stacks of books and magazines littered an oak desk in the corner. His bed was big and unmade with dark sheets and pillows. The room smelled like him and that alone was familiar and comforting.
Gideon dug in his dresser and pulled out black shorts and a white t-shirt for her. She walked numbly into the bathroom off his room. It was small but had a shower stall in the corner. She turned the water on hot and waited for the steam to build.
The water chased the last of the chills away. She used his soap, which was strikingly intimate. His scent wrapped around her like the hug she was desperately in need of but couldn’t ask for. Wrapped in a thick towel, she wiped the fog off the mirror and began to rub her hair dry, all the while thinking of Gideon. Only Gideon.
He was standing in the middle of the room when she opened the bathroom door. His shirt dwarfed her, making her look small and vulnerable. Her hair was damp and hung in curls. He noticed with relief that some of her color had returned. The heat from the shower left her cheeks a pale pink. Her eyes were dark and a little too wide as she stood there staring at him. He held out his hand and she put her small one in his.
He settled them down on the bed and pulled her up against him. She didn’t make a sound, only looked at him with all the hurt and devastation in her eyes. It killed him. He pressed his lips on her forehead and heard her sigh.
“Tell me.”
“You heard the conversation.”
He did, and remembering the careless words her father had h
urled at her turned his blood hot. But the heated question she’d asked him turned him ice cold. “Did you figure that out before or after you slept with her?” Her anger toward Molly made perfect sense.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“Tired.”
“Rebecca.”
She sighed again, a broken sound. He wondered if she knew how utterly sad she looked. She was trying her best not to let it show. A line formed between her eyes. Gideon used the pad of his thumb to smooth it out. “Tell me,” he demanded quietly.
“He came by the studio last week before I got there. Or maybe it was after. She just said I wasn’t there.” She paused and Gideon knew she was struggling for control. “He gave Molly a message for me, told her I was his daughter. She used her big boobs and honey voice to seduce the idiot.”
“He’s old enough to be her father.” He smoothed her damp hair back from her face, loving the silky feel of it sliding in his fingers. “Keep going.” He wanted her to open up to him. Needed it.
“He told her he hasn’t been around. It’s the truth, but Molly made it sound worse than it really is. She had all this fake pity and was laying in on pretty thick when you and Colin came in.” She smiled a little and he had a savage urge to taste her curved lips. “She was so pissed that you and Colin ignored her. That’s why she took that last shot at me.”
“She was jealous.”
“Not that there’s anything to be jealous of, but yes. She always has been.” She yawned.
“You’re beautiful, sweet—” she snorted—“sexy, and you have one hell of a man sniffing at you.”
“Sniffing at me? Is that what you’re doing?”
“Yep.” He was relieved to see the hurt had subsided. She was amused now and only a little sad. If he could spend the rest of his life keeping the hurt away, he’d be a happy man. He kissed her forehead again and closed his eyes while emotions churned. The rest of his life. The thought had come easily and left him stunned.
He’d wondered in the past why his relationships failed to keep. He hadn’t loved a woman before and had always been disappointed in himself for not being able to love. He wanted a house of his own. He wanted a wife to come home to every night and kids to climb all over him and call him Daddy.
He knew now why he hadn’t been able to fall. None of the women had been Rebecca.
He looked down at her and grinned. She was sleeping deeply, finally having given into her exhaustion. Physically, she could handle just about anything. But the emotional ringers she’d been put through tonight had taken a toll on her. And he couldn’t forget about her almost drowning.
He’d never been so afraid in his life. The water had been so black when he’d dived in. It took him close to a damn minute just to find her. She hadn’t been holding her breath anymore, he remembered. Her eyes had been glazed and she’d been fading.
But she had reached out and hit him in the back. If she hadn’t, he would have been swimming in the other direction and she would have drowned.
Gideon shifted onto his back and slipped his arm out from under Rebecca’s limp body. They were going to have to figure out whatever was going on between them. If he was already thinking picket fences while she still had reservations about opening up to him, it was a recipe for disaster.
Women, Gideon mused. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and headed for the bathroom. They needed assurance. He knew enough from his mother and sister that women thought they needed to know everything before they did anything. He would drop hints, he decided turning the water on in the shower. If Rebecca knew which direction his thoughts were taking, she would be more comfortable, he was sure.
Gideon let the hot spray beat down over his head.
She’d opened up to him tonight, told him things he knew weren’t easy for her to share. It was a step. He knew she was affected by him. She still held herself back, however and that didn’t sit well with him. Funny, he mused, that the first woman he was in love with was also the first woman who held herself back from him.
Sex would come soon. He could see it in her eyes, read it in her expression. He was smart enough to know it hadn’t been sex she was referring to when she’d asked to go slow. It wasn’t sex, it was all of the other things he needed from her.
Chapter Ten
She couldn’t say what woke her. Rebecca lay in the dark listening to the man beside her breathe. Dawn was about to break, sending little slithers of red and purple light through the open blinds into the bedroom. Gideon’s bedroom.
She was in his arms and knew so before she fully woke. The warmth surprised her. She’d slept with men, but hadn’t actually slept with a man. She hadn’t meant to last night, but now that she had, she knew what she had been missing. She also knew she’d missed nothing because it wasn’t men. It was Gideon who made the difference.
His scent filled her, stirring her blood. She listened intently to his deep, even breaths in the dimness—watched in wonder his broad, strong chest expand with each breath—and she wanted him. It had to be now or she would lose her nerve.
With the lightest touch, she ran her fingers up his naked chest and into the dense, dark hair curling there. His body was hard and hot, her fingers slid smoothly over him. She felt his heart pounding strong and steady beneath her palm. He stirred then and her heart kicked in her chest.
His eyes opened, black as night and fixed sharply on hers. She didn’t remove her hand from his chest, instead she brought the other one up to curve around his shoulder. The tips of his hair teased her knuckles lightly.
“You know what you’re doing, right?” His voice was low and husky, sending heat straight to her stomach. Her toes curled and she nodded. “All right, then.”
His lips were on hers, deliciously warm and urgent. She wound her arms around his neck and opened her mouth for him. He rolled over top of her and slid his hands under her, pressing her against his body.
Her eyelids fluttered closed and behind them she saw swirls of colors. Sensual and bold, they turned her blood to fire. His hands glided over her, slow and smooth. She could feel every callous as he branded her with his touch alone. He toyed with the hem of the shirt she’d slept in, then finally touched her skin. He lifted her shirt, releasing her mouth to pull it over her head.
A rough sound vibrated in his throat as he drank in the sight of her. Naked from the waist up, she watched him look at her. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. She’d never felt self-conscious before—but she’d also never been studied like this. He devoured her with his eyes alone. In those eyes, she saw promises and threats—making her want more than she’d ever wanted.
She gripped his arms, the heat from his flesh scorching her palms. His mouth came down, but he passed her lips, instead he nibbled on the skin beneath her ear. Her stomach dropped as the heat enveloped her. He worked his way up to her ear lobe, nipping it, then sinking his teeth into it.
She whimpered and writhed beneath him when his big hand cupped her breast. His thumb grazed over her hardened nipple causing little licks of fire to blaze in her belly. The heat was incredible. She wanted to kiss him as he was kissing her, to touch him as he was touching her but sensations left her shattered.
He said her name raggedly before lowering his mouth to her breast. She gasped and held him as he twisted his tongue around her. Arrows of pleasure sliced her when he used his teeth.
He trailed hot, wet kisses up her chest and while his busy mouth ravished her throat, the shorts she’d been wearing were slipped down her thighs. She tugged eagerly at his boxers. Had she been able to think, she would have been shocked at herself for her boldness. As it was, she just needed him desperately. She needed to feel him inside her more than she needed to breathe at that moment.
She was burning up beneath him and was only getting hotter. Release when it came would be wrecking, she knew, and anticipated the crash. She curled her fingers around him, loving the way he felt in her hand. She heard him suck in a sharp breath. His face hovered above hers, his eye
s black. He cupped her bottom, lifted her, and plunged.
Their moans merged and ended with their mouths fused together again. He moved, guiding her legs up higher to take more of him. She felt stretched, but it was a sense of fulfillment. She clung to him and arched her hips, gasping as he increased the tempo.
He drove her to a shattering climax, leaving her wrecked and spent beneath him when he followed. When they could breathe again, he slipped off her and pulled her into his arms.
It had never been like that, Rebecca thought while he held her. She’d known pleasure, or so she had thought. But what she felt with Gideon in his bed couldn’t compare to what she’d known. Her body still hummed an hour later, but not only from the physical pleasure. They were lying tangled in the sheets watching the sun come up through his bedroom window, neither inclined to move.
She knew if she had a thousand lovers, none of them would come close to Gideon. She understood now how a woman could become so obsessed with one man and forever want him. The thought had her falling ruthlessly back down to earth. She hadn’t been thinking of her future when she had instigated things. She’d only been thinking of her needs and her wants. Just like her mother.
He must have felt some of the warmth leave her because he tightened his hold and murmured her name in her hair. She held on to the lazy feeling of contentment for as long as she could before reality removed the haze. She turned her body subtly so that he wouldn’t notice, but it gave her the strength to distance herself from him and the feelings he provoked from her.
“Stop thinking.”
She wished she could. She wished there could be only today, and tomorrow didn’t matter. They could live forever on their own little island and not have to worry about the painting or useless promises—but wishes were for children and dreams were for fools. She was neither.
“I need to get up. Remember, we have to meet my mother at the airport.”
“It’s probably not even seven.” He rose over her. “Her plane lands at eleven.” Pulled her against him. “We have plenty of time.”