Entwined With You

unless it’s with a sincere apology. Until you admit you’re wrong, I can’t trust you not to do it again.”
    I walked to the kitchen and grabbed my purse, my gaze meeting Cary’s just as he was coming out with a tray of half-filled wineglasses. “I’ll be back later.”
    “You can’t just walk out like this!” my mother cried, clearly on the verge of one of her emotional fits. I couldn’t deal with it. Not then.
    “Watch me,” I muttered under my breath.
    My goddamned Rolex. Just thinking of it hurt like hell, because the gift had meant so much to me. Now, it meant nothing at all.
    “Let her go, Monica,” Cary said, his voice low and soothing. He knew how to deal with hysteria better than anyone. It was crappy sticking him with my mom, but I had to go. If I went to my room, she would just cry and plead at my door until I felt sick. I hated seeing her like that, hated causing her to feel that way.
    Exiting my apartment, I went to Gideon’s next door, rushing to get inside before the tears overwhelmed me or my mother came after me. There was nowhere else for me to go. I couldn’t go out in public shell-shocked and crying. My mother wasn’t the only one who had me under surveillance. There was also the possibility of the police, Deanna Johnson, and maybe even some paparazzi.
    I got as far as Gideon’s couch, sprawling across the cushions and allowing the tears to flow.

7
    “A NGEL .”
    Gideon’s voice and the feel of his hands on me pulled me from sleep. I mumbled a protest as he shifted me onto my side, and then the heat of his body was warming my back. One of his muscular arms wrapped around my waist, tucking me close.
    Spooned with him, the biceps of his other arm hard beneath my cheek, I slid back into unconsciousness.
    W HEN I woke again, it felt like days later. I lay on the couch with my eyes closed for long minutes, soaking in the warmth of Gideon’s powerful body and breathing air that smelled of him. After a while, I decided that sleeping longer would only throw off my body clock even more. We’d had a lot of late nights and early mornings since we had gotten back together, and they were taking their toll.
    “You’ve been crying,” he murmured, burying his face in my hair. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
    I wrapped my arms over his, snuggling into him. I told him about the watch. “Maybe I overreacted,” I finished. “I was tired, which makes me irritable. But God … it hurt like hell. It totally ruined a gift that meant a lot to me, you know?”
    “I can imagine.” His fingers drew gentle circles across my stomach, caressing me through the silk of my shirt. “I’m sorry.”
    I looked toward the windows and saw that night had fallen. “What time is it?”
    “A little after eight.”
    “What time did you get in?”
    “Half past six.”
    I wriggled around to face him. “Early for you.”
    “Once I knew you were here, I couldn’t stay away. I’ve wanted to be with you since your flowers arrived.”
    “You liked them?”
    He smiled. “I have to say, reading your words in Angus’s handwriting was … interesting.”
    “I’m trying to be safe.”
    He kissed the tip of my nose. “While still spoiling me.”
    “I want to. I want to ruin you for other women.”
    The pad of his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “You did that the moment I saw you.”
    “Sweet talker.” My depression lifted just from being with Gideon and knowing I was his sole focus at that moment. “You trying to get in my pants again?”
    “You’re not wearing pants.”
    “Is that a no?”
    “That’s a yes, I want under your skirt.” His eyes darkened when I nipped his thumb with my teeth. “And inside your hot, wet, tight littlecunt. I’ve wanted that all day. I want it every day. I want it now, but we’ll wait until you’re feeling better.”
    “You could kiss it and make it better.”
    “Kiss what, exactly?”
    “Everything. Everywhere.”
    I knew I could get used to having him all to myself like this. Knew I wanted to. Which was impossible, of course.
    Thousands of little pieces of him were committed to thousands of people and projects and commitments. If I’d learned anything from my mother’s multiple marriages to successful businessmen, it was that wives were often mistresses, almost invariably taking second place because their husbands were also married to their work. There was a reason why a man became a captain in his chosen field—he gave it his all. The woman in his life