I was wrong.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I spoke more steadily. “Gideon, listen. Whatever’s on that video, it’s nothing compared to what you and I have. The only memories I want in your head are ones we make. What we’ve got together … that’s the only thing that’s real. The only thing that matters. So please … promise me.”
He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. “All right. I promise.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Lifting my hands to his mouth, he kissed them. “You’re mine, Eva.”
BY silent, mutual agreement, we refrained from mussing each other up in the limo before our first public appearance as a married couple. I was nervous, and while an orgasm or two would help alleviate that, looking less than perfect would only make it worse. And people would notice. Not only was my silver gown eye-catching, with its brilliant sheen and short train, but my arm-candy husband was an impossible-to-miss accessory.
Attention would be on us, and Gideon seemed determined to keep it that way. He helped me out of the limo when we arrived at Fifth Avenue and Central Park South, taking a moment to slide his lips across my temple. “That dress is going to look amazing on my bedroom floor.”
I laughed at the cheesy line, which I knew he’d intended, and camera flashes went off in a storm of blinding light. Once he turned away from me, all warmth left his face, the beautiful planes settling into a closed expression that gave nothing away. He set his hand at the small of my back and led me across the red carpet and into Cipriani’s.
Once inside, he found a spot he approved of and we stayed there for an hour as business associates and acquaintances circled around us. He wanted me at his side and he wanted to be at mine as well, something he proved a short while later when we were headed to the dance floor.
“Introduce me,” he said simply and I followed his gaze to where Christine Field and Walter Leaman, of Waters Field & Leaman, were laughing along with the group of people they were standing with. Christine looked restrained and elegant in a black beaded dress that covered her from throat to wrists to ankles except for the plunging back, and Walter, who was a large man, looked successful and confident in a nicely cut tuxedo and bow tie.
“They know who you are,” I pointed out.
“Do they know who I am to you?”
I wrinkled my nose a little, knowing my world was going to change drastically once my single-girl self was subsumed by my identity as Eva Cross. “Come on, ace.”
We headed over there, weaving through round tables covered in white linens and decorated with candelabras wrapped in floral garlands that lent a wonderful fragrance to the room.
My bosses spotted Gideon first, of course. I don’t think they even recognized me until Gideon quite obviously deferred to me by letting me speak first.
“Good evening,” I said, shaking Christine’s and Walter’s hands. “I know you’re both familiar with Gideon Cross, my …”
I paused, my brain grinding to a halt.
“Fiancé,” Gideon finished, shaking hands.
Congratulations were exchanged; smiles got bigger, eyes brighter.
“This doesn’t mean we’re losing you, does it?” Christine asked, diamond drop earrings glinting in the soft light of the chandeliers.
“No. I’m not going anywhere.”
That earned me a sharp pinch on my butt from Gideon.
We were going to have to deal with the work issue at some point, but I figured I could hold him off at least until our next wedding.
We talked a bit about the Kingsman Vodka campaign, which was mostly a way to emphasize what a good job Waters Field & Leaman had done so the agency could hook more Cross Industries business. Gideon knew the game, of course, and played it well. He was polite, charming, and clearly not a man who could be easily influenced.
After that, we ran out of things to talk about. Gideon made our excuses.
“Let’s dance,” he murmured in my ear. “I want to hold you.”
We moved onto the dance floor, where Cary was drawing attention with a stunning redhead. Flashes of a pale, shapely leg could be seen through the risqué slit in her emerald green dress. He moved her into a spin, then a dip. Undeniably suave.
Trey hadn’t been able to come because of an evening class, and I was sorry about that. I was sorry, too, that I was glad Cary hadn’t brought Tatiana instead. Thinking that way made me feel bitchy, and I seriously disliked catty bitches.
“Look at me.”
I tilted my head at Gideon’s command and found his eyes on me. “Hi, ace.”
With his hand at my back and my hand in his, we swept casually around the dance floor.
“Crossfire,” he whispered, his gaze hot on my face.
I touched his cheek with my fingertips. “We’re learning from our mistakes.”
“You read my mind.”
“It feels good.”
He smiled, his eyes so blue and his hair so damn sexy I wanted to run my fingers through it right then and there. He pulled me closer. “Not as good as you feel.”
We stayed on the dance floor through two songs. Then the music ended when the bandleader turned to the mic and made an announcement: Dinner was about to be served. Seated at our table were my mother and Richard, Cary, a plastic surgeon and his wife, and a guy who said he’d just wrapped up shooting the pilot episode to a new television show he hoped would be picked up for a full-season run.
The meal was some sort of Asian fusion and I ate everything, because it was good and the portions weren’t that big. Gideon had his hand on my thigh beneath the table, his thumb rubbing lightly in small circles that made me squirm.
He leaned over. “Sit still.”
“Stop it,” I whispered back.
“Keep wiggling and I’ll put my fingers inside you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He smirked. “Try me and see.”
Because I wouldn’t put it past him, I sat still, even though it killed me.
“Excuse me,” Cary said abruptly, pushing back from the table.
I watched him walk away and caught his gaze lingering on a nearby table. When the redhead in green followed him out of the room a few moments later, I wasn’t too surprised, but I was very disappointed. I knew the situation with Tatiana was stressing him out and I knew mindless sex was Cary’s cure-all, but it also fucked with his self-esteem and led to more problems than it fixed.
It was good that we were only a couple days away from seeing Dr. Travis.
Leaning into Gideon, I whispered, “Cary and I are going to San Diego this weekend.”
His head swiveled toward me. “You’re telling me this now?”
“Well, between your exes and my ex, my parents, Cary, and everything else, it keeps slipping my mind! I figured I’d better tell you before I forgot again.”
“Angel …” He shook his head.
“Hang on.” I pushed to my feet. I needed to remind him that Brett had a tour stop in San Diego at the same time, but I had to catch Cary first.
He looked at me quizzically as he stood.
“Be right back,” I told him, adding very quietly, “Got some cockblocking to do.”
“Eva—”
I heard the warning in his tone and ignored it, lifting my skirt and hurrying after Cary. I’d just made it past the ballroom entrance, when I ran into a familiar face.
“Magdalene,” I said in surprise, stopping. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Gage was wrapped up in a project, so we ran a little late. Missed dinner entirely, but at least I got my hands on one of those chocolate mousse things they served for dessert.”
“Kick-ass,” I agreed.
“Totally.” Magdalene smiled.
I thought to myself that she looked really good. Softer, sweeter. Still stunning and sultry in a one-shouldered red lace dress, her dark hair framing a delicate face and crimson lips. Getting away from Christopher Vidal had done her a lot of good. And having a new man in her life surely helped. I remembered her mentioning a guy named Gage when she’d visited me at work a couple weeks before.
“I saw you with Gideon,” she said. “And I noticed your ring.”
“You should’ve come over and said hi.”
“I was eating that dessert.”
I laughed. “A girl’s got to have her priorities.”
Magdalene reached out and touched my arm briefly. “I’m happy for you, Eva. Happy for Gideon.”
“Thank you. You should stop by our table and tell him that.”
“I will. Catch you later.”
She walked off and I stared after her for a minute, still wary but thinking she might not be so bad after all.
The one negative about running into Magdalene was losing Cary. By the time I resumed chasing after him, he’d already ducked out of sight somewhere.
I headed back to Gideon, mentally preparing the ass-chewing I was going to give Cary. Elizabeth Vidal halted me in my tracks.
“Excuse me,” I said, when I nearly bumped into her.
She grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me over to a dark corner. Then she caught my hand and looked at my gorgeous Asscher diamond. “That’s my ring.”
I tugged free. “It was your ring. It’s mine now. Your son gave it to me around the time he asked me to marry him.”
She looked at me with those blue eyes that were so like her son’s. So like Ireland’s. She was a beautiful woman, glamorous and elegant. As much a head-turner as my mother, really, but she had Gideon’s iciness.
“I won’t let you take him away from me,” she bit out between brilliantly white teeth.
“You’ve got it all wrong.” I crossed my arms. “I want to get you two together, so we can put everything out in the open.”
“You’re filling his head with lies.”
“Oh my God. Seriously? The next time he tells you what happened—and I’ll make sure he does—you’re going to believe him. And you’re going to apologize, and find some fucking way to make it easier for him to bear. Because I want him healed and healthy and whole.”
