Day, Sylvia - Bared to You - A Crossfire Novel

He shot me a hard glance. “Whatever it takes.”

“I’m going to dance.” Cary stood with a mischievous grin. “Be back in a bit.”

Ignoring my pleading glance, my best friend blew me a kiss and the guys fol owed him. I watched them al go, my heart racing. After another minute, ignoring Gideon became ridiculous, as wel as impossible.

My gaze slid over him. He wore dress slacks in graphite gray and a black V-neck sweater, the overal effect being one of careless sophistication. I loved the look on him and was attracted to the softness it gave him, even though I knew it was only an il usion. He was a hard man in a lot of ways.

I took a deep breath, feeling like I needed to make an effort to socialize with him. After al , wasn’t that my big complaint? That he wanted to skip past the getting-to-know-you stage and jump straight into bed?

“You look…” I paused. Fantastic. Wonderful.

Amazing. So damn sexy… In the end, I went with the lame, “I like the way you look.”

His brow arched. “Ah, something you like about me.

Is that a general like of the overal package? Or just the clothes? Only the sweater? Or maybe it’s the pants?” The edge to his tone rubbed me the wrong way.

“And if I say it’s just the sweater?”

“I’l buy a dozen and wear them every damn day.”

“That would be a shame.”

“You don’t like the sweater?” He was pissy, his words coming clipped and fast.

My hands flexed restlessly in my lap. “I love the sweater, but I also like the suits.”

He stared at me a minute, and then nodded. “How was your date with B.O.B.?”

Oh hell. I looked away. It was a lot easier talking about masturbation over the phone. Doing it while squirming under that piercing blue stare was mortifying. “I don’t kiss and tel .”

He brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek and murmured, “You’re blushing.”

I heard the amusement in his voice and swiftly changed topics. “Do you come here often?” Shit. Where did that clichéd line come from?

His hand dropped to my lap and caught one of mine, his fingers curling into my palm. “When necessary.”

A quick stab of jealousy made me stiffen. I glared at him, even though I was mad at myself for caring either way. “What does that mean? When you’re on the prowl?”

Gideon’s mouth curved into a genuine smile that hit me hard. “When expensive decisions need to be made. I own this club, Eva.”

Of course he did. Jeez.

A pretty waitress set two pinkish-colored iced drinks in square tumblers on the table. She looked at Gideon and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Here you go, Mr.

Cross. Two Stoli Elites and cranberry. Can I get you anything else?”

“That’l be al for now. Thanks.”

I could total y see that she wanted to get on the preapproved list and I bristled at that; then I was distracted by what we’d been served. It was my beverage of choice when clubbing and what I’d been drinking al night. My nerves tingled. I watched him take a drink, swirl it around in his mouth like a fine wine, and then swal ow it. The working of his throat made me hot, but that was nothing compared to what the intensity of his stare did to me.

“Not bad,” he murmured. “Tel me if we made it right.”

He kissed me. He moved in fast, but I saw it coming and didn’t turn away. His mouth was cold and flavored with alcohol-laced cranberry. Delicious. Al the chaotic emotion and energy that had been writhing around inside me abruptly became too much to contain. I shoved a hand in his glorious hair and clenched it tight, holding him stil as I sucked on his tongue. His groan was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard, making the flesh between my legs tighten viciously.

Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I wrenched away, gasping.

Gideon fol owed, nuzzling the side of my face, his lips brushing over my ear. He was breathing hard, too, and the sound of the ice in his tumbler clinking against the glass skittered across my inflamed senses.

“I need to be inside you, Eva,” he whispered roughly.

“I’m aching for you.”

My gaze fel to my drink on the table, my thoughts swirling around in my head, a clusterfuck of impressions and recol ections and confusion. “How did you know?”

His tongue traced the shel of my ear and I shivered.

It felt like every cel in my body was straining toward his. Resisting him took an impossible amount of energy, draining me and making me feel tired.

“Know what?” he asked.

“What I like to drink? What Cary’s name is?” He inhaled deeply, and then pul ed away. Setting his drink down, he shifted on the sofa and drew a knee up onto the cushion between us so that he faced me directly. His arm once again draped over the sofa back, his fingertips drawing circles on the curve of my shoulder. “You visited another of my clubs earlier. Your credit card popped and your drinks were recorded.

And Cary Taylor is listed on the rental agreement for your apartment.”

The room spun. No way… My cel phone. My credit card. My fucking apartment. I couldn’t breathe.

Between my mother and Gideon, I felt claustrophobic.

“Eva. Jesus. You’re white as a ghost.” He shoved a glass into my hand. “Drink.”

It was the Stoli and cranberry. I pounded it, draining the tumbler. My stomach churned for a moment, then settled. “You own the building I live in?” I gasped.

“Oddly enough, yes.” He moved to sit on the table, facing me, his legs on either side of mine. He took my glass and set it aside; then warmed my chil ed hands with his.

“Are you crazy, Gideon?”

His mouth thinned. “Is that a serious question?”

“Yes. Yes, it is. My mom stalks me, too, and she sees a shrink. Do you have a shrink?”

“Not presently, but you’re driving me crazy enough to make that a possibility.”

“So this behavior isn’t normal for you?” My heart was pounding. I could hear the blood rushing past my eardrums. “Or is it?”

He shoved a hand through his hair, restoring order to the strands I’d mussed when we’d kissed. “I accessed information you voluntarily made available to me.”

“Not to you! Not for what you used it for! That has to violate some kind of privacy law.” I stared at him, more confused than ever. “Why would you do that?” He had the grace to look disgruntled at least. “So I can figure you out, damn it.”

“Why don’t you just ask me, Gideon? Is that so fucking hard for people to do nowadays?”

“It is with you.” He grabbed his drink off the table and tossed back most of it. “I can’t get you alone for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“Because the only thing you want to talk about is what you have to do to get laid!”

“Christ, Eva,” he hissed, squeezing my hand. “Keep your voice down!”

I studied him, taking in every line and plane of his face. Unfortunately, cataloging the details didn’t lessen my awe even a tiny bit. I was beginning to suspect I’d never get over being dazzled by his looks.

And I wasn’t alone; I’d seen how other women reacted around him. And he was crazy rich, which made even old, bald, and paunchy guys attractive. It was no wonder he was used to snapping his fingers and scoring an orgasm.

His gaze darted over my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?” His jaw tightened. “And I’m warning you, if you say anything about orifices, preapprovals, or seminal emissions, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

That almost made me smile. “I want to understand a few things, because I think it’s possible I’m not giving you enough credit.”

“I’d like to understand a few things myself,” he muttered.