His fingertips brushed across my cheek. I’d missed that touch so much, my heart bled at feeling it again.

“When are you coming back to me?” I asked softly.

“As soon as I can.” Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to mine. “Wait.”

Chapter 19

When I got to my desk, I found a voice mail from Christopher. I debated for a moment whether I should continue to pursue the truth. Christopher wasn’t a man I wanted to invite any deeper into my life.

But I was haunted by the look that had been on Gideon’s face when he told me about his past, and the sound of his voice, so hoarse with remembered shame and agony.

I felt his pain like my own.

In the end, there was no other choice. I returned Christopher’s call and asked him out to lunch.

“Lunch with a beautiful woman?” There was a smile in his voice. “Absolutely.”

“Any time you have free this week would be great.”

“How about today?” he suggested. “I occasionally get a craving for that deli you took me to.”

“Works for me. Noon?”

We set the time and I hung up just as Will stopped by my cubicle. He gave me puppy-dog eyes and said, “Help.”

I managed a smile. “Sure.”

The two hours flew by. When noon rolled around, I went downstairs and found Christopher waiting in the lobby. His auburn hair was a wild mess of short, loose waves and his grayish-green eyes sparkled. Wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, he looked confident and attractive. He greeted me with his boyish grin, and it struck me then-I couldn’t ask him about what he’d said to his mother long ago. He’d been a child himself, living in a dysfunctional home.

“I’m stoked you called me,” he said. “But I have to admit, I’m curious about why. I’m wondering if it has anything to do with Gideon getting back together with Corinne.”

That hurt. Terribly. I had to suck in a deep breath, then release my tension with it. I knew better. I had no doubts. But I was honest enough to admit that I wanted ownership of Gideon. I wanted to claim him, possess him, have everyone know that he was mine.

“Why do you hate him so much?” I asked, preceding him through the revolving doors. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the hot, driving rain had ceased, leaving the streets awash in dirty water.

He joined me on the sidewalk and set his hand at the small of my back. It sent a shiver of revulsion through me. “Why? You want to exchange notes?”

“Sure. Why not?”

By the time lunch was over, I’d gotten a pretty good idea of what fueled Christopher’s hatred. All he cared about was the man he saw in the mirror. Gideon was more handsome, richer, more powerful, more confident… just more. And Christopher was obviously being eaten alive by jealousy. His memories of Gideon were colored by the belief that Gideon had received all the attention as a child. Which might have been true, considering how troubled he was. Worse, the sibling rivalry had crossed over into their professional lives when Cross Industries acquired majority shares in Vidal Records. I made a mental note to ask Gideon why he’d done that.

We stopped outside the Crossfire to part ways. A taxi racing through a huge puddle sent a plume of foaming water right at me. Swearing under my breath, I dodged the spray and almost stumbled into Christopher.

“I’d like to take you out sometime, Eva. Dinner, perhaps?”

“I’ll get in touch,” I hedged. “My roommate’s really sick right now and I need to be around for him as much as possible.”

“You’ve got my number.” He smiled and kissed the back of my hand, a gesture I’m sure he thought was charming. “And I’ll keep in touch.”

I made my way through the Crossfire’s revolving doors and headed for the turnstiles.

One of the black-suited security guards at the desk stopped me. “Miss Tramell.” He smiled. “Could you come with me, please?”

Curious, I followed him to the security office where I’d originally gotten my employee badge when I was hired. He opened the door for me, and Gideon was waiting inside.

Leaning back against the desk with his arms crossed, he looked beautiful and fuckable and wryly amused. The door shut behind me and he sighed, shaking his head.

“Are there other people in my life you plan on harassing on my behalf?” he asked.

“Are you spying on me again?”

“Keeping a protective eye on you.”

I arched a brow at him. “And how do you know if I harassed him or not?”

His faint smile widened. “Because I know you.”

“Well, I didn’t harass him. Really. I didn’t,” I argued when he shot me a look of disbelief. “I was going to, but then I didn’t. And why are we in this room?”

“Are you on some kind of crusade, angel?”

We were talking around each other, and I wasn’t sure why. And I didn’t care, because something else struck me as more significant.

“Do you realize that your reaction to my lunch with Christopher is very calm? And so is my reaction to your spending time with Corinne? We’re both reacting totally different from the way we would have just a month ago.”

He was different. He smiled, and there was something unique about that warm curving of his lips. “We trust each other, Eva. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Trusting you doesn’t mean I’m any less baffled by what’s going on between us. Why are we hiding in this office?”

“Plausible deniability.” Gideon straightened and came to me. Cupping my face in his hands, he tilted my head back and kissed me sweetly. “I love you.”

“You’re getting good at saying that.”

He ran his fingers through my new bangs. “Remember that night, when you had your nightmare and I was out late? You wondered where I was.”

“I still wonder.”

“I was at the hotel, clearing out that room. My fuck pad, as you called it. Explaining that while you were puking your guts out didn’t seem to be the appropriate time.”

My breath left me in a rush. It was a relief to know where he’d been. An even bigger relief to know that the fuck pad was no more.

His gaze was soft as he looked at me. “I’d completely forgotten about it until it came up with Dr. Petersen. We both know I’ll never use it again. My girl prefers modes of transportation to beds.”

He smiled and walked out. I stared after him.

The security guard filled the open doorway and I shoved aside my roiling thoughts to examine later, when I had the time to really grasp where they were leading me.

* * *

On the walk home, I picked up a bottle of sparkling apple juice in lieu of champagne. I saw the Bentley every now and then, following along, ever ready to pull over and pick me up. It used to irritate me, because the lingering connection it represented deepened my confusion over my breakup with Gideon. Now, the sight of it made me smile.

Dr. Petersen had been right. Abstinence and some space had cleared my head. Somehow, the distance between me and Gideon had made us stronger, made us appreciate each other more and take less for granted. I loved him more now than I ever had, and I felt that way while I was planning on a night just hanging out with my

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