I felt my face heat. “For your information, I didn’t get off even once while we were apart. Never even got the urge because we weren’t together.”
He leaned into the counter, resting one elbow on the cool black granite. “Hmm.”
“I like fucking you because you’re you, not because I’m a cock-hungry slut. If you don’t like it, grow a gut or stop showering or something.” I slid off the stool. “Or just say no, Gideon.”
I marched into the living room, trying to get away from the unsettled feeling I’d had all day.
Gideon’s arms came around me from behind, halting me midstep. “Stop,” he said, with the familiar authoritative bite that always turned me on.
I tried to squirm free.
“Now, Eva.”
I gave up, my hands falling to my sides to clench my dress.
“Explain what the fuck just happened,” he said calmly.
My head bowed and I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t know what to say. A moment of silence later, he moved, swinging me up into the cradle of his arms and carrying me to the couch. He sat and arranged me on his lap. I snuggled into him.
His chin came to rest on the crown of my head. “You want to pick a fight, angel?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Good. Me neither.” His hands stroked up and down my back. “So let’s talk instead.”
I pressed my nose into his throat. “I love you.”
“I know.” He tilted his head back, giving me room to nestle.
“I’m not a sex addict.”
“I don’t see why it’d be a problem if you were. God knows making love with you is my favorite thing to do. In fact, if you ever wanted me to take care of you more often, I’d go so far as to schedule sex with you into my day.”
“Oh my God!” I nipped him with my teeth, and he laughed softly.
Gideon wrapped my hair around his fist and tugged my head back. His gaze on my face was soft and serious. “You’re not upset about our incredible sex life. It’s something else.”
Sighing, I admitted, “I don’t know what it is. I’m just … off.”
Adjusting me in his lap, Gideon snuggled me closer, pulling me into his warmth. We fit so perfectly together, my curves aligning with his sculpted lines. “Do you like the apartment?”
“I love it.”
“Good.” His voice was laced with satisfaction. “Obviously, it’s an example—taken to the extreme.”
My heart rate jumped a little. “Of what our place could look like?”
“We’ll start fresh, of course. Everything new.”
I was moved by his pronouncement. Still, I had to say, “It was so risky doing this. Moving in here, getting in and out of the building. It makes me nervous just thinking about it.”
“On paper, someone lives here. So of course, he’d move furniture in, and come and go. He enters through the garage, just like all the other tenants with cars. When I’m being him, I dress a little differently, take the stairs, and check the security feeds so I know if I’m going to run into anyone before it happens.”
The amount of planning involved was mindboggling to me, but then he’d had practice getting to Nathan without a trace. “All this trouble and expense. For me. I can’t— I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll plan on moving in with me.”
I savored the surge of pleasure his words brought me. “Do you have a time frame in mind for this fresh start?”
“As soon as we can get away with it.” His hand on my thigh squeezed gently.
I set my hand over his. There was so much standing in the way of us living together: the lingering trauma of our pasts; my dad, who disliked rich guys and thought Gideon was a cheater; and me, because I liked my apartment and believed that striking out in a new city meant doing as much as I could on my own.
I jumped to the biggest issue for me, though. “What about Cary?”
“The penthouse has an attached guest apartment.”
Pulling back quickly, I stared at him. “You’d do that for Cary?”
“No, I’d do it for you.”
“Gideon, I …” My words trailed off because there were no words. I was awed. Something inside me shifted a little.
“So you’re not upset about the apartment,” he said. “Something else is on your mind.”
I decided to save Brett for last. “I’ve got a girls’ night out on Saturday.”
He stilled. Maybe someone who didn’t know him as well as I did wouldn’t catch that subtle, sharp alertness, but I caught it. “Girls’ night doing what, exactly?”
“Dancing. Drinking. The usual.”
“Is it a manhunt?”
“No.” I licked my dry lips, mesmerized by the change in him. He’d gone from intimately playful to intensely focused. “We’re all attached. At least I think we all are. I’m not sure about Megumi’s roommate, but Megumi’s got a man and you know Shawna’s got her chef.”
He was suddenly all business when he said, “I’ll make the arrangements—car, driver, and security. If you stick with a circuit of my clubs, your security will stay in the car. You want to branch out, he’s going in with you.”
Blinking in surprise, I said, “Okay.”
From the kitchen, the oven timer began beeping.
Gideon went from sitting to standing, with me in his arms, in one powerfully graceful surge. My eyes widened. My blood hummed through my veins. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him carry me to the kitchen. “I love how strong you are.”
“You’re easy to impress.” Settling me on a bar stool, he gave me a lingering kiss before heading to the oven.
“You cooked?” I wasn’t sure why the thought surprised me, but it did.
“No. Arnoldo had ready-to-cook lasagna and a salad delivered.”
“Sounds awesome.” I knew from having eaten in celebrity chef Arnoldo Ricci’s restaurant that the food would be killer.
Grabbing my glass, I wasted the wonderful wine by gulping it down for courage, thinking it was time to tell him what he wouldn’t want to hear. I took the plunge and said, “Brett called me at work today.”
For a minute or two, I didn’t think Gideon heard me. He slid on a pot holder, opened the oven, and pulled out the lasagna without looking my way. It wasn’t until he set the pan on the stovetop and glanced at me that I knew for certain he hadn’t missed a word.
He tossed the glove onto the counter, grabbed the wine bottle, and came directly to me. Calmly, he took my wineglass and refilled it before he spoke. “I expect he wants to see you when he’s in New York next week.”
It took me the space of a breath to respond. “You knew he was coming back!” I accused.
“Of course I knew.”
Whether that was because Brett’s band was signed to Vidal Records or because Gideon was keeping an eye on him, I didn’t know. Both reasons were entirely plausible.
“Did you agree to meet up?” His voice was smooth and soft. Dangerously so.
Ignoring the fluttering of nerves in my belly, I held his gaze. “Yes, for the reveal of the new Six-Ninths music video. Cary’s going with me.”
Gideon nodded, leaving me anxious and clueless about his feelings.
I slid off the stool and went to him. Wrapping me up in his arms, he rested his cheek against the top of my head.
“I’ll back out,” I offered quickly. “I don’t really want to go anyway.”
“It’s okay.” Swaying from side to side, rocking me, he whispered, “I broke your heart.”
“That’s not why I agreed to go!”
His hands came up and pushed through my hair, combing it back from my forehead and cheeks with a gentleness that brought tears to my eyes. “We can’t just forget the last few weeks, Eva. I cut you deep and you’re still bleeding.”
It struck me then that I hadn’t been ready to pick up the pieces of our relationship as if nothing had gone wrong. A part of me was holding a grudge, and Gideon had picked up on it.
I struggled out of his hold. “What are you saying?”
“That I have no right to leave you and hurt you—for whatever reason—then expect you to forget how that felt and forgive me overnight.”