“We don’t have time for you to change your mind.”
“I thought there was more material than that.” I shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? You bought it.”
“I’m having second thoughts. How long could it possibly take to remove it?”
Sliding my tongue along my lower lip, I said, “I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?”
His eyes turned dark. “We’d never get out of here.”
“I wouldn’t complain.” He looked so damn hot and I wanted him—as always—real y damned bad.
“Isn’t there a jacket or something you can put over that? A parka, maybe? Or a trench coat?” Laughing, I grabbed my clutch off the dresser and wrapped my arm around his. “Don’t worry. Everyone wil be too busy checking you out to even bother noticing me.”
He scowled as I tugged him out of the bedroom.
“Seriously. Have your tits gotten bigger? They’re spil ing out over the top of that thing.”
“I’m twenty-four years old, Gideon,” I said dryly. “I stopped developing years ago. What you see is what you get.”
“Yes, but I’m the only one who’s supposed to be seeing, since I’m the only one who’s al owed to be getting.”
We moved into the living room. In the short time it took us to pass through to the foyer, I relished the quiet beauty of Gideon’s home. I loved how warm and inviting it was. The old world charm of the décor was so elegant, yet it was also remarkably comfortable.
The stunning view out of the arched windows complemented the interior, but didn’t distract from it.
The mixture of dark woods, distressed stone, warm colors, and vivid jeweled accents was clearly expensive, as was the art hung on the wal s, but it was a tasteful display of wealth. I couldn’t imagine anyone feeling awkward about what to touch or where to sit. It just wasn’t that kind of space.
We caught the private elevator and Gideon faced me as the doors closed. He immediately tried tugging my bodice up.
“If you’re not careful,” I warned, “you’l expose my crotch instead.”
“Damn it.”
“We could have fun with this. I could play the role of a bubbleheaded blond bimbo who’s after your cock and your mil ions, and you can be yourself—the bil ionaire playboy with his latest toy. Just look bored and indulgent while I rub up against you and coo about how bril iant you are.”
“That’s not funny.” Then he brightened. “What about
a scarf?”
Once we checked in for the gala dinner benefitting a new crisis shelter for women and children, we were directed to a press gauntlet, triggering my fear of exposure. I focused on Gideon because nothing distracted me as thoroughly as he did. And because I was paying such close attention, I was able to watch the change from private man to public persona as it happened.
The mask slipped smoothly into place. His irises chil ed to an icy blue and his sensual mouth lost any hint of curve. I could almost feel the force of his wil enclosing us. There was a shield between us and the rest of the world simply because he wished it to be there. Standing beside him, I knew no one would approach or speak to me until he gave them some sign that they could.
Stil , the don’t-touch vibe didn’t extend to looking.
Gideon turned heads as we walked to the bal room and eyes fol owed him. I got a nervous twitch from al the attention he garnered, but he seemed oblivious and completely unruffled.
If I’d had my heart set on cooing and rubbing al over Gideon, I would’ve had to wait in line. He was pretty much mobbed the moment we stopped walking. I stepped away to make room for those vying to catch his attention and wandered off to find some champagne. Waters Field & Leaman had done the pro bono advertising for the gala, and I spotted a few people I knew.
I’d managed to snag a glass off a passing waiter’s tray when I heard someone cal out my name. Turning, I saw Stanton’s nephew approaching with a broad smile. Dark-haired and green-eyed, he was around my age. I knew him from the times I’d visited my mother on holiday breaks and was glad to see him.
“Martin!” I greeted him with open arms and we hugged briefly. “How are you? You look fabulous.”
“I was about to say the same.” He eyed my dress appreciatively. “I’d heard you’d moved to New York and meant to look you up. How long have you been in town?”
“Not long. A few weeks.”
“Drink your champagne,” he said. “And let’s dance.” The wine was stil bubbling nicely through my system when we moved onto the dance floor to the sound of Bil ie Hol iday singing “Summertime.”
“So,” he began, “are you working?”
As we danced, I told him about my job and I asked what he was up to. I wasn’t surprised to hear he was working for Stanton’s investment firm and doing wel .
“I’d love to come uptown and take you out to lunch sometime,” he said.
“That would be great.” I stepped back as the music ended and bumped into someone behind me. Hands went to my waist to steady me and I looked over my shoulder to find Gideon at my back.
“Hel o,” he purred, his icy gaze on Martin. “Introduce us.”
“Gideon, this is Martin Stanton. We’ve known each other for a few years now. He’s my stepfather’s nephew.” I took a deep breath and went for it. “Martin, this is the significant man in my life, Gideon Cross.”
“Cross.” Martin grinned and held out his hand. “I know who you are, of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you. If things work out, maybe I’l be seeing you at some of the family gatherings.”
Gideon’s arm slid around my shoulders. “Count on it.”
Martin was hailed by someone he knew and he leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “I’l cal you about lunch. Next week maybe?”
“Great.” I was highly conscious of Gideon vibrating with energy beside me, although when I glanced at him, his face with calm and impassive.
He pul ed me into a dance, with Louis Armstrong singing “What a Wonderful World.” “Not sure I like him,” he muttered.
“Martin’s a very nice guy.”
“Just so long as he knows you’re mine.” He pressed his cheek to my temple and placed his hand within the cutout back of my dress, skin to skin. There was no way to doubt that I belonged to him when he was holding me like that.
I relished the opportunity to be so close to his scrumptious body in public. Breathing him in, I relaxed into his expert hold. “I like this.”
Nuzzling against me, he murmured, “That’s the idea.”
Bliss. It lasted as long as the dance did.
We were exiting the dance floor when I caught sight of Magdalene off to the side. It took me a moment to recognize her because she’d cut her hair into a sleek bob. She looked slender and classy in a simple black cocktail dress, but was eclipsed by the striking brunette she was speaking to.
Gideon’s stride faltered, slowing fractional y before resuming his usual pace. I was looking down, thinking he’d avoided something on the floor, when he said quietly, “I need to introduce you to someone.” My attention shifted to see where we were going.
The woman with Magdalene had spotted Gideon and turned to face him. I felt his forearm tense beneath my fingers the moment their gazes met.
I could see why.
The woman, whoever she was, was deeply in love with Gideon. It was there on her face and in her pale, otherworldly blue eyes. Her beauty was stunning, so exquisite as to be surreal. Her hair was black as ink and hung thick and straight almost to her waist. Her dress was the same icy hue as her eyes, her skin golden from the sun, her body long and perfectly curved.