I’d managed to snag a glass off a passing waiter’s tray when I heard someone call 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 still bubbling nicely through my system when we moved onto the dance floor to the sound of Billie Holliday 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 well.
“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.
“Hello,” 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’ll 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’ll call 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 pulled 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 fractionally 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.
“Corinne,” he greeted her, the natural rasp in his voice even more pronounced. He released me and caught her hands. “You didn’t tell me you were back. I would’ve picked you up.”
“I left a few messages on your voice mail at home,” she said, in a voice that was cultured and smooth.
“Ah, I haven’t been there much lately.” As if that reminded him I was next to him, he released her and drew me up to his side. “Corinne, this is Eva Tramell. Eva, Corinne Giroux. An old friend.”
I extended my hand to her and she shook it.
“Any friend of Gideon’s is a friend of mine,” she said with a warm smile.
“I hope that applies to girlfriends as well.”
When her gaze met mine, it was knowing. “Especially girlfriends. If you could spare him a moment, I’ve been hoping to introduce him to an associate of mine.”
“Of course.” My voice was calm; I was anything but.
Gideon gave me a perfunctory kiss on the temple before he stepped closer to Corinne and offered his arm to her, leaving Magdalene standing awkwardly next to me.
I actually felt sorry for her, she looked so dejected. “Your new hairstyle is very flattering, Magdalene.”
She glanced at me, her mouth tight, and then it softened with a sigh that sounded filled with resignation. “Thank you. It was time for a change. Time for many changes, I think. Also, there was no reason to imitate the one who got away now that she’s back.”
I frowned in confusion. “You lost me.”
“I’m talking about Corinne.” She studied my face. “You don’t know. She and Gideon were engaged, for over a year. She broke it off, married a wealthy Frenchman, and moved to Europe. But the marriage fell apart. They’re now getting divorced and she’s moved back to New York.”
Engaged. I felt the blood drain from my face, my gaze shifting to where the man I loved stood with the woman he must’ve once loved, his hand moving to the small of her back to steady her as she leaned into him with a laugh.
As my stomach twisted with jealousy and sick fear, it struck me that I’d assumed he had never had a serious romantic relationship before me. Stupid. As hot as he was, I should’ve known better.
Magdalene touched my shoulder. “You should sit down, Eva. You’re very pale.”
I knew I was breathing too fast and my speeding pulse rate was dangerously high. “You’re right.”
Moving to the nearest available chair, I got off my feet. Magdalene sat beside me.
“You love him,” she said. “I didn’t see it. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for what I said to you the first time we met.”
“You love him, too,” I replied woodenly, my gaze unfocused. “And at that time, I didn’t. Not yet.”
“Doesn’t excuse me, does it?”
I gratefully accepted another glass of champagne when it was offered to me and took a second for Magdalene before the waiter straightened to move on. We clinked glasses in a pitiful display of scorned female solidarity. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get up and walk out. I wanted Gideon to realize I’d left, to be forced to leave after me. I wanted him to feel some of the pain I felt. Stupid, immature, hurtful imaginings that made me feel small.
I took comfort from Magdalene sitting silently beside me in commiseration. She knew how it felt to love Gideon and want him too much. That I sensed she was as miserable as I was confirmed what a threat Corinne might be.
Had he been pining for her this whole time? Was she the reason he’d closed himself off from other women?
“There you are.”
I looked up as Gideon found me. Of course Corinne was still on his arm and I got the full effect of the two of them as a couple. There were, quite simply, impossibly gorgeous together.
Corinne took a seat beside me and Gideon brushed his fingertips over my cheek. “I have to speak with someone,” he said. “Would you like me to bring you back anything?”