Day, Sylvia - Bared to You - A Crossfire Novel

“Hel o.”

“Where’s Gideon?”

I shrugged at the blunt question. “I’m not sure.” She nodded sagely. “He’s good at being a loner.”

“Has he always been that way?”

“I guess. He moved out when I was little. Do you love him?”

My breath caught for a second. I released it in a rush and said simply, “Yes.”

“I thought so when I saw that video of you two in Bryant Park.” She bit her lush lower lip. “Is he fun? You know…to hang around with?”

“Oh. Wel …” God. Did anyone know Gideon? “I wouldn’t say he’s fun, but he’s never boring.” The live band began playing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” and Cary appeared beside me as if by magic.

“Time to make me look good, Ginger.”

“I’l try my best, Fred.” I smiled at Ireland. “Excuse me a minute.”

“Three minutes, forty seconds,” she corrected, displaying some of her family’s expertise in music.

Cary led me onto the empty dance floor and pul ed me into a swift foxtrot. It took me a minute to get into it, because I’d been stiff and tight with misery for days.

Then the synergy of longtime partners kicked in and we glided across the floor with sweeping steps.

When the singer’s voice faded with the music, we stopped, breathless. We were pleasantly surprised by applause. Cary gave an elegant bow and I held on to his hand for stability as I dipped into a curtsy.

When I lifted my head and straightened, I found Gideon standing in front of me. Startled, I stumbled back a step. He was seriously underdressed in jeans and an untucked white dress shirt that was open at the col ar and rol ed up at the sleeves, but he was so damn fine he stil put every other man in attendance to shame.

The tremendous yearning I felt at the sight of him overwhelmed me. Distantly I was aware of the band’s singer pul ing Cary away, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Gideon, whose wildly blue eyes burned into mine.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped, scowling.

I recoiled from his harshness. “Excuse me?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He grabbed me by the elbow and started hauling me toward the house. “I don’t want you here.”

If he’d spit in my face, it couldn’t have devastated me more. I yanked my arm free of him and walked briskly toward the house with my head held high, praying I could make it to the privacy of the town car and Clancy’s protective watch before the tears started fal ing.

Behind me, I heard a come-hither female voice cal out Gideon’s name and I sent up a prayer that the woman would stal him long enough for me to get out without further confrontation.

I thought I just might make it when I passed into the cool interior of the house.

“Eva, wait.”

My shoulders hunched at the sound of Gideon’s voice and I refused to look at him. “Get lost. I can show myself out.”

“I’m not done—”

“I am!” I pivoted to face him. “You don’t get to talk to me that way. Who do you think you are? You think I came here for you ? That I was hoping I’d see you and you’d throw me a goddamn scrap or bone…some pathetic acknowledgment of my existence? Maybe I’d be able to harass you into a quick, dirty fuck in a corner somewhere in a pitiful effort to win you back?”

“Shut up, Eva.” His gaze was scorching hot, his jaw tight and hard. “Listen to me—”

“I’m only here because I was told you wouldn’t be.

I’m here for Cary and his career. So you can go back to the party and forget about me al over again. I assure you, when I walk out the door, I’l be doing the same to you.”

“Shut your damned mouth.” He caught me by the elbows and shook me so hard my teeth snapped together. “Just shut up and let me talk.” I slapped him hard enough to turn his head. “Don’t touch me.”

With a growl, Gideon hauled me into him and kissed me hard, bruising my lips. His hand was in my hair, fisting it roughly, holding me in place so I couldn’t turn away. I bit the tongue he thrust aggressively into my mouth, then his lower lip, tasting blood, but he didn’t stop. I shoved at his shoulders with everything I had, but I couldn’t budge him.

Goddamn Stanton! If not for him and my crazy-assed mother, I’d have had a few Krav Maga classes under my belt by now…

Gideon kissed me as if he was starved for the taste of me and my resistance began to melt. He smel ed so good, so familiar. His body felt so perfectly right against mine. My nipples betrayed me, hardening into tight points, and a slow, hot trickle of arousal gathered in my core. My heart thundered in my chest.

God, I wanted him. The craving hadn’t gone away, not even for a minute.

He picked me up. Imprisoned by his tight grip, it was hard to breathe and my head began to spin. When he carried me through a door and kicked it shut behind him, I couldn’t do more than make a feeble sound of protest.

I found myself pressed against a heavy glass door on the other side of a library, Gideon’s hard and powerful body subduing my own. His arm at my waist slid lower, his hand delving beneath my skirts and finding the curves of my butt exposed by my lacy boy shorts underwear. He wrenched my hips hard to his, making me feel how hard he was, how aroused. My sex trembled with want, achingly empty.

Al the fight left me. My arms fel to my sides, my palms pressing flat to the glass. I felt the brittle tension drain from his body as I softened in surrender, the pressure of his mouth easing and his kiss turning into a passionate coaxing.

“Eva,” he breathed gruffly. “Don’t fight me. I can’t take it.”

My eyes closed. “Let me go, Gideon.”

He nuzzled his cheek against mine, his breath gusting hard and fast over my ear. “I can’t. I know you’re disgusted by what you saw the other night…

what I was doing to myself—”

“Gideon, no!” God. Did he think I left him because of that? “That’s not why—”

“I’m losing my mind without you.” His lips were gliding down my neck, his tongue stroking over my racing pulse. He sucked on my skin and pleasure radiated through me. “I can’t think. I can’t work or sleep. My body aches for you. I can make you want me again. Let me try.”

Tears slipped free and ran down my face. They splashed on the upper swel of my breasts and he licked at them, lapping them away.

How would I ever recover if he made love to me again? How would I survive if he didn’t?

“I never stopped wanting you,” I whispered. “I can’t stop. But you hurt me, Gideon. You have the power to hurt me like no one else can.”

His gaze was stark and confused on my face. “I hurt you? How?”

“You lied to me. You shut me out.” I cupped his face, needing him to understand this one thing without question. “Your past doesn’t have the power to push me away. Only you can do that, and you did.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” he rasped. “I never wanted you to see me like that…”

“That’s the problem, Gideon. I want to know who you are, the good and the bad, and you want to keep parts of yourself hidden from me. If you don’t open up, we’re going to lose each other down the road and I won’t be able to take it. I’m barely surviving it now. I’ve crawled through the last four days of my life. Another week, a month…It’l break me to give you up.”

“I can let you in, Eva. I’m trying. But your first response when I screw up is to run away. You do it every time and I can’t stand feeling like any moment I’m going to do or say something wrong and you’re going to bolt.”

His mouth was tender again as he brushed his lips back and forth over mine. I didn’t argue with him. How could I, when he was right?