“WHERE’S EVA?”
I rounded the front of the Benz and stepped onto the curb in front of Brett Kline. My fingers twitched, the habit of extending my hand in greeting ruthlessly suppressed. The singer’s hands had touched my wife intimately in the past … and recently. I didn’t want to shake them. I wanted to break them.
“At our home,” I answered, gesturing at the entrance to the Crossfire Building. “Let’s go up to my office.”
Kline smiled coldly. “You can’t keep me from her.”
“You did that all by yourself.” I noted the worn Pete’s T-shirt he was wearing with black jeans and leather boots. Without a doubt, his choice of attire wasn’t a coincidence. He wanted to remind Eva of their history together. Maybe even remind me, too. Had Yimara given him the idea? I wouldn’t be surprised.
It was the wrong move for both men to have made.
He walked through the revolving doors ahead of me. Security took his information and printed out a temporary ID, then we headed through the turnstiles to the elevators.
“You can’t intimidate me with your money,” he said tightly.
I entered the car and hit the button for the top floor. “There are eyes and ears all over the city. At least in my office, I know we won’t be putting on a show.”
His lip curled in disgust. “Is that all you care about? Public perception?”
“An ironic question, considering who you are and what you want.”
“Don’t act like you know me,” he growled. “You know shit.”
In the confined space of the elevator car, Kline’s aggression and frustration permeated the space between us. His hands gripped the handrail behind him, his stance hostile and expectant. From the platinum tips of his spiked hair to the black-and-gray tattoos covering his arms, the front man of Six-Ninths couldn’t be more different from me in appearance. I used to feel threatened by that and his history with Eva, but no longer.
Not after San Diego. And certainly not after last night.
I could still feel the marks of Eva’s nails in my back and ass. She’d pushed me to my limits all night and into the early hours of the morning. The insatiable hunger she felt for me left no room for anyone else. And the catch in her voice when she told me she loved me, the sheen of tears in her eyes when I yielded to what she did to me …
I leaned back against the opposite wall and tucked my hands into the pockets of my sweats, knowing my nonchalance would goad him.
“Does she know we’re meeting like this?” he asked harshly.
“I figured I’d leave it up to you to decide whether to mention it.”
“Oh, I’m mentioning it all right.”
“I hope you do.”
We exited into the Cross Industries foyer and I led him through the security doors and back to my office. There were a few people at their desks and I took note of them. Those who worked on their days off weren’t always better employees than those who didn’t, but I respected ambition and rewarded it.
When we got to my office, I shut the doors behind us and frosted the glass. A folder sat on my desk, as I’d instructed before leaving the penthouse. I set my hand atop it and gestured for Kline to take a seat.
He remained standing. “What the fuck is this about? I come into town to see Eva and your goon brings me here instead.”
The “goon” was security provided by Vidal Records, but he wasn’t wrong in thinking the man worked for me. “I’m prepared to offer you a great deal of money—along with other incentives—for the exclusive rights to the Yimara footage of you and Eva.”
He gave me a hard smile. “Sam told me you were going to try this. That tape is none of your business. It’s between me and Eva.”
“And the entire world if it leaks, and that would destroy her. Does that matter to you at all, how she feels about it?”
“It’s not going to leak, and of course I give a shit about how she feels. It’s one of the reasons we need to talk.”
I nodded. “You want to ask her what you can use. You think you can talk her into letting you exploit some of it.”
He rocked back on his feet, a restless move that signaled a direct hit.
“You’re not going to get the answer you hope for,” I told him. “The very existence of that tape horrifies her. You’re an idiot if you think otherwise.”
“It’s not all sex. There’s some good stuff of us hanging out. Her and I, we had something. She wasn’t just a lay to me.”
Piece of shit. I had to control the impulse to deck him.
He smirked. “Not that you’d understand. You had no problem banging away at that brunette until I came back into the picture, then you changed up your game. Eva’s a toy you got bored with. Until someone else wanted her.”
His mention of Corinne hit a harsh chord. The charade of dating my ex had nearly cost me Eva, a close call that still haunted me.
That didn’t prevent me from noticing how good he was at shifting the blame. “Eva knows what she means to me.”
He stepped closer to my desk. “She’s too blinded by your billions to realize there’s something really wrong with you hiding that bogus wedding in a foreign country. Is it even legal?”
It was a question I’d anticipated. “Absolutely legal.”
Opening the folder, I pulled out the photo inside. It was taken on the day of my wedding, at the very moment I first kissed Eva as her husband. The beach and the pastor who had officiated at the ceremony were behind us. I cupped her face, our lips touching softly. Her hands held my wrists, my ring sparkling on her finger.
I turned the picture around so that it faced him. I slid a copy of the marriage license into place beside it. I used my left hand, proudly displaying my ruby-encrusted wedding band.
I wasn’t sharing such personal things to prove a point. I intended to provoke Kline, which I’d been deliberately doing from the moment he arrived in New York. When he reached out to my wife again, I wanted him off-balance and at a disadvantage.
“So you and Eva are done,” I said evenly. “If you doubted it, now you know it for sure. In any case, I don’t think you want my wife as much as you want the memory of her for the band’s use.”
Kline laughed. “Yeah, paint me as the sleaze. You can’t handle the thought of her seeing that tape. You’ve never made her get that wild and you never will.”
My forearms twitched with the need to pound the smugness out of his face. “Believe what you like. Here are your options: You can take the two million I’m offering, give me the footage, and walk away—”
“I don’t want your damn money!” Setting his hands on the edge of my desk, he leaned toward me. “You don’t get to own my memories. You may have her—for now—but I have those. Fuck if I’m selling them to you.”
The thought of Kline watching the footage … watching himself fuck my wife … set my blood on a slow boil. The thought of him suggesting that Eva sit through a viewing of it, knowing how that would shatter her, pushed me to the raw edge of violence.
Keeping my tone even was a struggle. “You can reject the money and keep the existence of the footage to yourself until you die. Make it a secret gift to Eva she never has to know about.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Or you can be a selfish asshole,” I continued, “and hit her up with it, shocking her with the goal of destroying her marriage and making yourself more famous.”
I stared him down. Kline stood his ground, but his gaze dropped for a fraction of a second. A small victory, for what it was worth.
With a swipe of my hand, I withdrew the contract Arash had drawn up. “If you care about her at all, you’ll make a different decision than the one that brought you to New York.”
He grabbed the documents off my desk and ripped them in half, throwing the pieces back onto the glass. “I’m not leaving until I see her.”
Kline strode out of my office, bristling with anger.
I watched him go. Then I placed a call via a secure line. “Did I give you enough time?”
“Yes. We took care of the laptop and tablet in his luggage as soon as you took him upstairs. We’re handling his e-mail and backup provider servers as we speak, and the backups to those servers. We searched his residence over the weekend, but he hasn’t been there in weeks. We cleaned everything on both Yimara and Kline’s equipment, as well as the accounts and equipment of those who received teasers of the full-length footage. One of the execs at Vidal had a full copy on his hard drive, but we wiped it. We found no evidence that he forwarded it anywhere.”
Ice slid through my veins. “Which executive?”
“Your brother.”
Fuck. I gripped the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles cracked with the strain. I remembered the video of Christopher with Magdalene, knew how perverse his hatred toward me was. Thinking about him seeing Eva so intimately … so vulnerable … took me to a place I hadn’t been since I’d first heard about Nathan.
I had to believe that the private military security firm I’d hired had dealt with the situation thoroughly. Their tech teams were trained to handle far more sensitive information.
I shoved the mess on my desk into the folder. “I need that footage to cease to exist anywhere.”
“Understood. We’re on it. Still, it’s possible there’s a hard copy floating around, although we’ve searched Kline and Yimara’s transaction records for security deposit boxes and the like. We’ll continue to monitor the situation until you say otherwise.”
I never would. I’d search for a lifetime, if that was what it took, for any hint that the footage survived somewhere outside of my control. “Thank you.”
Hanging up, I left my office and headed home to Eva.
“YOU’RE really good with those,” Ireland said, eyeing Eva as she lifted a chopstickful of kung pao chicken from its white box to her mouth. “I never got the hang of ’em.”
“Here, try holding them like this.”
I watched my wife adjust my sister’s grip on the slender sticks, her blond head a bright contrast against Ireland’s black hair. Sitting on the floor at my feet, they both wore shorts and tank tops, their tanned legs stretched out beneath the coffee table, one long and lean, the other petite and voluptuous.
I was more of an observer than a participant, sitting on the couch behind them and envying their easy rapport even while I was grateful for it.
It was all so surreal. I hadn’t ever imagined a night like that, a quiet evening at home with … family. I didn’t know how to contribute or even if I could. What could I say? How should I feel?
Besides awed. And thankful. So very thankful for my amazing wife, who brought so much to my life.
Not long ago, on a similar Saturday night, I would have been at a highly publicized social function or event, focusing on business unless or until a woman’s keen interest spurred a need to fuck. Whether I returned to the penthouse by myself or ended up at the hotel with a one-night stand, I’d be alone. And since I hardly remembered what it felt like to belong anywhere, to anyone, I didn’t know what I was missing.
“Ha! Look at that,” Ireland crowed, holding up a tiny bit of orange chicken, which she promptly ate. “Made it to my mouth.”
I swallowed the wine in my glass in a single gulp, wanting to say something. My mind raced with options, all of which sounded insincere and contrived. In the end what came out was, “The chopsticks have a large target. Ups your chances.”
Ireland turned her head toward me, revealing the same blue eyes I saw in the mirror every day. They were much less guarded, far more innocent, and bright with laughter and adoration. “Did you just call me a big mouth?”
Unable to resist, I ran my hand over the crown of her head, touching the silky soft strands of her hair. Those, too, were like mine and yet not. “Not my words,” I said.
“Not in so many words,” she corrected, leaning briefly into my touch before turning back to Eva.
Eva glanced up at me, offering an encouraging smile. She knew I drew strength from her, and she gave it unconditionally.
My throat tight, I rose from the couch and grabbed Eva’s empty wineglass. Ireland’s glass of soda was still half full, so I left it and headed to the kitchen, trying to regain enough equanimity to make it through the rest of the evening.
“Channing Tatum is so hot,” Ireland said, her voice traveling from the living room. “Don’t you think?”
I frowned. My baby sister’s idle question triggered uncomfortable thoughts of her dating. She had to have started a few years ago—she was seventeen. I knew it was unrealistic to want her to stay away from boys. I knew it was my fault that I’d missed so much of her childhood. But the thought of her having to deal with younger versions of men like me and Manuel and Cary roused an unfamiliar defensive reaction.
“He’s very good-looking,” Eva agreed.
Possessiveness rose to join the mix. My gaze narrowed on the two glasses in front of me as I refilled them.
“He’s this year’s Sexiest Man Alive,” Ireland said. “Look at those biceps.”
“Ah, now on that, I have to totally disagree. Gideon is way sexier.”
My mouth curved.
“You’re such a goner,” my sister teased. “Your pupils turn into little hearts when you think about Gideon. It’s so cute.”
“Shut up.”
Ireland’s musical laugh floated through the air. “Don’t worry. He’s goofy over you, too. And he’s been on every Sexiest Man Alive list for ages. I never hear the end of it from my friends.”
“Gah. Don’t tell me stuff like that. I’m jealous by nature.”
Laughing inwardly, I dropped the empty bottle into the recycling bin.
“So is Gideon. He’s going to flip out when you start hitting the Hottest Women Alive lists. No way to avoid it now that everyone’s heard of you.”
“Whatever,” Eva scoffed. “They’d have to Photoshop fifteen pounds off my ass and thighs to sell that.”
“Um, have you seen Kim Kardashian? Or Jennifer Lopez?”
I paused on the threshold of the living room, taking in the picture Ireland and Eva made over the rim of my glass. An ache bloomed in my chest. I wanted to freeze the moment, protect it, keep it safe forever.
Ireland looked up and spotted me, then rolled her eyes. “What did I tell you?” she said. “Goofy.”
SITTING back in my chair, I sipped coffee and studied the spreadsheet on my monitor. I rolled my shoulders back, trying to loosen the kink in my neck.
“Dude. What the hell? It’s three in the morning.”
I looked up to find Ireland standing in the doorway to my home office. “Your point?”
“Why are you working so late?”
“Why are you Skyping so late?” I countered, having heard her laughter and occasionally raised voice over the last hour or so since I’d left Eva sleeping.
“Whatev,” she muttered, coming in and dropping into one of the chairs in front of my desk. She slouched, her shoulders even with the chair back and her legs sprawled out in front of her. “Can’t sleep?”
“No.” She didn’t know how literally true that was. With Ireland sleeping in Eva’s bed and Eva sleeping in mine, I couldn’t risk going to sleep myself. There was only so much I could expect Eva to take, only so many times I could frighten her before it destroyed the love she felt for me.
“Christopher texted me a bit ago,” she said. “Guess Dad’s staying at a hotel.”
My brows rose.
She nodded, her face forlorn. “It’s bad, Gideon. They haven’t spent a night apart ever. At least that I can remember.”
I didn’t know what to say. Our mother had been calling me all day, leaving messages on my voice mail and ringing the penthouse so often I’d been forced to disconnect the main receiver so that none of the phones would ring. I hated that my mother was struggling, but I had to protect my time with Ireland and Eva.
It felt heartless to focus on myself, but I’d already lost my family twice before—once when my father died and again after Hugh. I couldn’t afford to lose any more. I didn’t think I could survive it a third time, not with Eva in my life.
“I just wish I knew what caused the fight,” she said. “I mean as long as they didn’t cheat on each other, they should be able to get through it, right?”
Exhaling roughly, I straightened. “I’m not the person to ask about relationships. I have no idea how they work. I’m just stumbling my way through, praying not to fuck things up, and grateful that Eva is so forgiving.”
“You really love her.”
I followed her gaze to the collage of photos on the wall. It hurt sometimes, looking at those pictures of my wife. I wanted to recapture and relive every moment. I wanted to hoard every second I’d ever had with her. I hated that time slipped away so quickly and I couldn’t bank it for the uncertain future.
“Yes,” I murmured. I’d forgive Eva anything. There was nothing she could do or say that would break us apart, because I couldn’t live without her.
“I’m happy for you, Gideon.” Ireland smiled when I looked at her.
“Thank you.” The worry in her eyes lingered and sparked restlessness. I wanted to fix the problems troubling her, but I didn’t know how.
“Could you talk to Mom?” she suggested. “Not now, of course. But tomorrow? Maybe you can find out what’s going on?”
I hesitated a moment, knowing a conversation with our mother was certain to be unproductive. “I’ll try.”
Ireland studied her nails. “You don’t like Mom very much, do you?”
Weighing my answer carefully, I said, “We have a fundamental difference of opinion.”
“Yeah. I get it. It’s like she’s got this weird form of OCD that applies to her family. Everyone has to be a particular way or at least pretend to be. She’s so worried about what people think. I saw an old movie the other day that reminded me of her. Ordinary People. Ever seen it?”
“No, can’t say I have.”
“You should watch it. It has Kiefer Sutherland’s dad in it and some other people. It’s sad, but it’s a good story.”
“I’ll look it up.” Feeling the need to explain our mother, I tried my best. “What she dealt with after my father died … It was brutal. She’s insulated herself since then, I think.”
“My friend’s mother says Mom used to be different before. You know, when she was married to your dad.”
I set my cooled coffee aside. “I do remember her differently.”
“Better?”
“That’s subjective. She was more … spontaneous. Carefree.”
Ireland rubbed at her mouth with her fingertips. “Do you think it broke her? Losing your dad?”
My chest tightened. “It changed her,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure how much.”
“Ugh.” She sat up, visibly shaking off her melancholy. “You going to be awake awhile?”
“Probably all night.”
“Wanna watch that movie with me?”
The suggestion surprised me. And pleased me. “Depends. You can’t tell me what happens. No spoilers.”
She shot me a look. “I already told you it’s sad. If you want happily ever after, she’s sleeping down the hall.”
That made me smile. Standing, I rounded my desk. “You find the movie, I’ll grab the soda.”
“A beer would be good.”
“Not on my watch.”
She pushed to her feet with a grin. “Okay, fine. Wine, then.”
“Ask me again in a few years.”
“You’ll have kids by then. It won’t be as fun.”
I paused, hit by anxiety sharp enough to mist my skin with sweat. The thought of having a baby with Eva both thrilled and terrified me. It wasn’t safe for my wife to live with me. How could it ever be safe for a child?
Ireland laughed. “Holy fuck, you should see your face! A classic case of playboy panic. Didn’t they tell you? First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.”
“If you don’t shut up, I’m sending you to bed.”
She laughed harder and linked her arm with mine. “You’re a riot. Seriously. I’m just messing with you. Don’t flip out on me. I’ve got enough family members doing that.”
I willed my heart to stop pounding so damn hard.
“Maybe you should have a drink,” she suggested.
“I think I will,” I muttered.
“I’m going to give major props to Eva for getting a ring out of you. Did you have a panic attack when you proposed, too?”
“Stop talking, Ireland.”
Leaning her head against my shoulder, she giggled and led me out of my office.
THE sun had been up for over two hours by the time I returned to bed. I stripped silently, my gaze roaming over the delectable bump under the covers that was my wife.
Eva was curled in a ball, mostly hidden except for the bright strands of hair splayed over the pillow. My mind filled in the blanks, knowing she was naked between the sheets.
Mine. All mine.
It killed me to sleep away from her. I knew it hurt her, too.
Lifting the edge of the blankets, I slid in beside her. She gave a soft little moan and rolled toward me, her lush warm body wriggling into place against me.
I was instantly hard. Desire simmered in my blood; awareness tingled along my skin. It was combustible sexual chemistry but also something more. Something deeper. A strange, wonderful, frightening recognition.
She filled an emptiness in me I hadn’t known was there.
Eva buried her face in my throat and hummed softly, her legs tangling with mine, her hands gliding over my back. “Hard and yummy all over,” she purred.
“All over,” I agreed, cupping her ass and pulling her tighter against my hard-on.
Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh. “We have to be quiet.”
“I’ll cover your mouth.”
“Me?” She nipped at my throat. “You’re the noisy one.”
She wasn’t wrong. As rough and impatient as I could get when aroused, I’d never been loud … until her. It was a struggle to be discreet when situations called for it. She felt too good, made me feel too much.
“So we’ll take it slow,” I murmured, my hands roaming greedily over her silky skin. “Ireland will be sleeping for hours; there’s no rush.”
“Hours, huh?” Laughing, she pulled back and rolled away from me, reaching for the nightstand drawer. “Overachiever.”
Tension stretched across my shoulders as she dug out the breath mints she kept handy. I was reminded of similar situations, when women had reached into the nightstand drawer for condoms.
Eva and I had used condoms only twice. Before her, I’d never fucked a woman without one. Avoiding pregnancy was something I’d religiously adhered to.
Yet since those first two times with Eva, we’d gone bare, relying on her birth control to prevent conception.
It was a risk. I knew that. And considering how often I had her—at least two, sometimes three or four times a day—the risk was not inconsiderable.
I thought of it sometimes. I questioned my control, my selfishness in putting my own pleasure above the consequences. But the reason for my recklessness wasn’t as simple as pleasure. If it were, I could deal. Be responsible.
No, it was much more complicated.
The need to come inside her was primitive. It was a conquest and surrender in one.
I had wanted to fuck her raw before I’d even had her the first time, before I knew definitively how explosive it would be between us. I’d gone so far as to warn her prior to our first date that I needed it, needed her to give me that, something I’d never wanted with anyone else.
“Don’t move,” I said roughly, sliding over her while she was still stretched out on her stomach. My hand pushed between her hip and the bed, reaching between her legs to cup her cunt in my palm. She was moist and warm. My stroking fingers made her slick and hot.
She muffled a moan.
“I want you just like this,” I told her, brushing my lips across her cheek.
Reaching for my pillow with my free hand, I yanked it over and then shoved it under her, lifting her hips to an angle that would let me sink balls-deep.
“Gideon …” The way she said my name was a plea, as if I wouldn’t get down on my knees and beg for the privilege of having her.
I shifted, urging her legs apart and pinning her wrists beside her head. Holding her down, I thrust into her. She was ready for me, plush and tight and wet. My teeth gritted together to restrain the growl that surged from my throat, a tremor racking my body from head to toe. My chest heaved against her back, my violent exhalations ruffling her hair lying across the pillow.
Just like that, just by taking me, she had me right on the edge.
“God.” My hips churned without volition, screwing my cock into her, pushing me deeper until I was in her to the hilt. I could feel her all around me, from root to tip, clenching in ripples that milked me like a greedy little mouth. “Angel—”
The pressure at the base of my dick was insistent, but I was capable of staving it off. It wasn’t a question of control, but of will.
I wanted to come inside her. Wanted it enough to consider the risk—as terrifying as it was—acceptable.
Closing my eyes, I dropped my forehead to her cheek. I inhaled the scent of her and let go, coming hard, my ass flexing as I filled her up in thick, hot spurts.
Eva whimpered, writhing under me. Her cunt tightened, then trembled around my cock. She climaxed with a soft, sweet moan.
I growled her name, searingly aroused by her orgasm. She came because I did, because my pleasure turned her on as much as my touch. I would reward her for that, show her the depth of my gratitude. She would get hers, over and over again, as many times as she could take it.
“Eva.” I rubbed my damp cheek against hers. “Crossfire.”
Her fingers tightened their grip on mine. Her head turned, her lips seeking.
“Ace,” she breathed into the kiss. “I love you, too.”
IT was shortly after five in the evening when I drove the Bentley through the gates of the Vidal estate in Dutchess County and into the circular drive out front.
“Aw, you drove too fast,” Ireland complained from the backseat. “We’re here already.”
I put the SUV in park and left it idling. One look at the house, and a knot tightened in my gut. Eva reached over, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. I focused on her steely gray eyes instead of the Tudor-style mansion at her back.
She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to. I felt her love and support and saw the glimmer of anger in her eyes. Just knowing she understood gave me strength. She knew every dark and dirty secret I had, and yet she believed and loved me anyway.
“I want to stay over again sometime,” Ireland said, poking her head between the two front seats. “It was fun, right?”
I looked at her. “We’ll do it again.”
“Soon?”
“All right.”
Her smile more than made the promise worth what it would cost me in sleep and anxiety. I’d stayed away from her for many reasons, but the main one was that I didn’t know what I could offer her of any value. I’d channeled everything into keeping Vidal Records afloat for her well into the future, taking care of her the only way I knew I wouldn’t screw up.
“You’ll have to help me out,” I told her honestly. “I don’t know how to be a brother. You will probably have to forgive me. Frequently.”
The smile left Ireland’s face, transforming her from a teenager to a young woman. “Well, it’s like being a friend,” she said somberly. “Except you have to remember birthdays and holidays, you have to forgive me for everything, and you should introduce me to all your hot, rich guy friends.”
My brow lifted. “Where’s the part about me picking on you and giving you a hard time?”
“You missed those years,” she shot back. “No do-overs.”
She meant to tease, but the words struck home. I had missed years and I couldn’t get them back.
“You get to pick on her boyfriends instead,” Eva said, “and give them a hard time.”
Our eyes met and I knew she understood exactly what I was thinking. My thumb stroked over her knuckles.
Behind her, the front door opened and my mother stepped out. She stood on the wide top step dressed in a white tunic and matching pants. Her long, dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders. From a distance, she looked so much like Ireland, more of a sister than a parent.
My grip on Eva’s hand tightened.
Ireland sighed and opened her door. “I wish you guys didn’t have to work tomorrow. I mean, what’s the point of being a gazillionaire if you can’t play hooky when you want?”
“If Eva worked with me,” I said, looking at my wife, “we could.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Don’t start.”
I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed the back. “I haven’t stopped.”
Opening my door, I stepped out of the car and hit the hatch release. I rounded the back of the car to retrieve Ireland’s bag and found my arms full of her instead. She hugged me tightly, her slender arms wrapped around my waist. It took me a moment to unfreeze from my surprise, and then I hugged her back, my cheek coming to rest on the crown of her head.
“I love you,” she mumbled into my chest. “Thanks for having me over.”
My throat closed tight, preventing me from saying anything. She was gone as quickly as she’d come at me, her duffel in hand as she met Eva on the passenger side and hugged her, too.
Feeling as winded as if I’d been punched, I closed the hatch and watched as my mother met Ireland halfway across the blue-gray gravel drive. I was about to return to the wheel and leave, when she signaled at me to wait.
I glanced at Eva. “Get in the car, angel.”
She looked as if she might argue, and then she nodded and slid back into the front passenger seat and closed the door.
I waited until my mother came to me.
“Gideon.” She caught me by the biceps and lifted onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to my mouth. “Won’t you and Eva come in? You drove all this way.”
I took a step backward, breaking her hold. “And we have to drive back.”
Her gaze reflected her disappointment. “Just for a few minutes. Please. I’d like to apologize to both of you. I haven’t handled the news of your engagement well and I’m sorry about that. This should be a happy time for our family, and I’m afraid I’ve been too worried about losing my son to appreciate it.”
“Mom.” I caught her arm when she moved toward the passenger side. “Not now.”
“I didn’t mean all those things I said about Eva the other day. It was just a shock, seeing the ring your father gave me on another woman’s hand. You didn’t give the ring to Corinne, so I was surprised. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“You antagonized Eva.”
“Is that what she told you?” She paused. “I never meant to, but—Never mind. Your father was very protective, too. You’re so like him.”
I looked away, gazing absently at the trees beyond the drive. I never knew how to take comparisons to Geoffrey Cross. Were they meant as praise or a backhanded compliment? There was no telling with my mother.
“Gideon … please, I’m trying. I said some things to Eva I shouldn’t have, and she responded as any woman would under the circumstances. I just want to smooth things over.” She set her hand over my heart. “I’m happy for you, Gideon. And I’m so glad to see you and Ireland spending time together. I know it means so much to her.”
I pulled her hand away gently. “It means a lot to me, too. And Eva made it possible in ways I won’t explain. Which is just one of the reasons I won’t have her upset. Not now. She has to work in the morning.”
“Let’s make plans for lunch this week, then. Or dinner.”
“Will Chris be there?” Eva asked through the window before pushing the door open again and stepping out. She stood there, so small and bright against the dark hulking SUV, formidable in the way her shoulders were set.
My wife would fight the world for me. It was miraculous to know that. When no one else had fought for me, I’d somehow found the one soul who would.
My mother’s lips curved. “Of course. Chris and I are a team.”
I noted the brittleness of her smile and doubted her, as I so often did. Still, I conceded. “We’ll make plans. Call Scott tomorrow and we’ll work something out.”
My mother’s face brightened. “I’m so glad. Thank you.”
She hugged me and I braced myself, my body stiff with the need to push her away. When she approached Eva with her arms outstretched, Eva thrust out her hand between them to shake instead. The interaction was awkward, with both women so obviously on the defensive.
My mother didn’t want to mend fences; she wanted an agreement to pretend the fences were sound.
We said good-bye, and then I slid into the driver’s seat. Eva and I took off, leaving the estate behind us. We hadn’t gone far when she said, “When did your mother talk to you?”
Damn it. I knew what that bite in her tone signified.
Reaching over, I set my hand on her knee. “I don’t want you worrying about my mother.”
“You don’t want me worrying about anything! That’s not the way this is gonna work. You don’t get to deal with all the crap alone.”
“What my mother says or does isn’t important, Eva. I don’t give a shit and neither should you.”
She twisted in the seat to face me. “You need to start sharing stuff. Especially things that have to do with me, like your mother saying things behind my back!”
“I won’t have you getting pissed off over an irrelevant opinion.” The road curved. I accelerated out of the turn.
“That would be better than me getting pissed off at you!” she snapped. “Pull over.”
“What?” I glanced at her.
“Pull the damn car over!”
Cursing inwardly, I removed my hand from her leg and gripped the wheel. “Tell me why.”
“Because I’m mad at you, and you’re sitting there looking all hot and sexy driving and you need to stop.”
Amusement warred with exasperation. “Stop what? Looking hot and sexy? Or driving?”
“Gideon … don’t push me right now.”
Resigned, I eased off the gas and pulled to a stop on the narrow shoulder. “Better?”
She got out of the car and went around the hood. I stepped out, giving her a questioning glance.
“I’m driving,” she announced when she was standing in front of me. “At least until we get to the city.”
“If that’s what you want.”
I knew next to nothing about relationships, but it was a no-brainer to make concessions when your woman was mad at you. Especially when you entertained hopes of getting laid in a few hours, which I most definitely was. After spending the weekend with friends and Ireland, I was feeling a renewed need to show my wife just how much I appreciated her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered.
“Like what?” I raked her with a glance, admiring how pretty she looked in a strappy white sundress. The evening was hot and muggy, but she looked airy and fresh. I wanted to strip off my clothes and press up against her, cool off a little before heating things up.
“Like I’m a ticking time bomb ready to go off!” Her arms crossed. “I am not being irrational.”
“Angel, that’s not the look I’m giving you.”
“And don’t try to distract me with sex,” she bit out, her jaw clenched. “Or you won’t get any for a week!”
My arms crossed, too. “We’ve already talked about issuing ultimatums like that. You can bitch at me all you like, Eva, but I’ll have you when I want you. Period.”
“Never mind whether I want you?”
“Asks the wife who gets wet watching me drive a damn car,” I drawled.
Her gaze narrowed. “I may just leave you here on the side of the road.”
Clearly, I wasn’t navigating the situation well. So I switched tactics, taking the offensive position.
“You don’t tell me everything,” I countered. “What about Kline? Has he completely stopped communicating with you since San Diego?”
I’d been holding back the question all weekend, wondering how Kline was going to handle Eva.
I was torn about how I wanted him to proceed. If he approached her about the tape he no longer possessed, it would hurt her but also drive her closer to me. If he walked away for her sake, it would betray deeper feelings for her than I was comfortable with. I hated that he wanted her, but I feared he might actually love her.
She gasped. “Oh my God. Have you been looking at my phone again?”
“No.” My reply was swift and decisive. “I know how you feel about that.”
I followed her every move, knew where she was and who she was with at every moment of the day, but she’d set a hard limit with her cell phone and I honored it, even though it drove me crazy.
Eva studied me a minute but must have seen the truth on my face. “Yes, Brett has sent me a few texts. I was going to talk to you about it, so don’t even try to say it’s the same thing. I totally intended to tell you. You had absolutely no intention of telling me.”
A car rushed by on the road, turning my concern toward her safety. “Get in and drive. We’ll talk in the car.”
I waited until she climbed into the seat, and then I shut the door behind her. By the time I settled in the passenger side, she’d adjusted the mirrors and seat to suit her and put the car in gear.
The minute she was fully merged in the lane, she started in on me again. I was vaguely aware of her speaking, my attention more focused on the way she handled the Bentley. She drove fast and with confidence, her grip light and easy on the wheel. She kept her gaze on the road, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. My California girl. On an open road, she was fully in her element.
I found myself pleasantly aroused by watching Eva handle the powerful SUV. Or maybe it was that she was chastising me, challenging me.
“Are you listening to me?” she demanded.
“Not really, angel. And before you get more riled, it’s entirely your fault. You’re sitting there looking hot and sexy, and I’m distracted.”
Her hand whipped out and smacked my thigh. “Seriously? Stop cracking jokes!”
“I’m not kidding. Eva … you want me to share, so you can support me. I get it. I’m working on it.”
“Not hard enough apparently.”
“I’m not going to share things that aggravate you unnecessarily. There’s no point.”
“We have to be straight with each other, Gideon. Not just occasionally, but all the time.”
“Really? I don’t expect the same from you. For example, feel free to keep all the unflattering comments your father and Cary make about me to yourself.”
Her lips pursed. She chewed on that for a bit, then, “Using that logic, wouldn’t it be okay for me to not say anything about Brett?”
“No. Kline impacts our relationship. My mother does not.”
She snorted.
“I’m right about this,” I said evenly.
“Are you telling me that your mom talking crap about me doesn’t bother you?”
“I don’t like it. That said, it doesn’t change how I feel about you or her. And telling you won’t change your feelings about her, either. Since the result is the same either way, I choose the path of least disruption.”
“You’re thinking like a guy.”
“I should hope so.” I reached over and brushed the hair off her shoulder. “Don’t let her cause trouble between us, angel. She’s not worth it.”
Eva glanced at me. “You’re pretending that what your mom says and does has no effect on you, but I know that’s not true.”
I debated denying it, just to shut down the topic, but my wife saw everything I’d rather hide. “I don’t let it affect me.”
“But it does. It hurts and you push it into that place where you push everything you don’t want to deal with.”
“Don’t analyze me,” I said tightly.
Her hand touched my thigh. “I love you. I want to stop the pain.”
“You already have.” I gripped her hand. “You’ve given me everything she took away. Don’t let her take any more.”
With her eyes on the winding road, Eva lifted our joined hands and kissed my wedding band. “Point taken.”
She gave me a quick smile that told me she was done—for now—and drove us home.
