Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

his hair to hold him still and kissed him back, my tongue sliding along his, stroking. We’d been a couple for such a short period of time. Less than a month. Worse, neither of us knew how to have a relationship like the one we were attempting to build—a relationship in which we refused to pretend we weren’t both seriously broken.
    His arms banded around me and tightened possessively. “I wanted to spend the weekend with you down in the Florida Keys—naked.”
    “Umm, sounds nice.” More than nice. As big of a kick as I got out of Gideon in a three-piece suit, I much preferred him stripped to the skin. I avoided pointing out that I wouldn’t be available this weekend . . .
    “Now I’ve got to spend the weekend taking care of business,” he muttered, his lips moving against mine.
    “Business you put off to be with me?” He’d been leaving work early to spend time with me, and I knew that had to be costing him. My mother was on her third marriage, and all of her spouses were successful, wealthy moguls of one kind or another. I knew the price for ambition was very late hours.
    “I pay other people a generous salary so I can be with you.”
    Nice dodge, but noting the flash of irritation in his gaze, I distracted him. “Thank you. Let’s get some coffee before we run out of time.”
    Gideon stroked his tongue along my bottom lip, then released me. “I’d like to get off the ground by eight tomorrow night. Pack cool and light. Arizona’s got dry heat.”
    “What?” I blinked at his retreating back as it disappeared into his office. “Arizona is where your business is?”
    “Unfortunately.”
    Uh . . . whoa. Instead of risking my shot at coffee, I postponed arguing and continued on to the kitchen. I passed through Gideon’s spacious apartment with its stunning prewar architecture and slender arched windows, my heels alternately clicking over gleaming hardwood and muffled by Aubusson rugs. Decorated in dark woods and neutral fabrics, the luxurious space was brightened by jeweled accents. As much as his place screamed money, it managed to remain warm and welcoming, a comfortable place to relax and feel pampered.
    When I reached the kitchen, I wasted no time in shoving a travel mug under the one-cup coffeemaker. Gideon joined me with his jacket draped over one arm and his cell phone in his hand. I put another portable mug under the spout for him before I went to the fridge for some half-and-half.
    “It might be fortunate after all.” I faced him and reminded him of my roommate issue. “I need to knock heads with Cary this weekend.”
    Gideon dropped his phone in the inner pocket of his jacket, then hung the garment off the back of one of the bar stools at the island. “You’re coming with me, Eva.”
    Exhaling in a rush, I added half-and-half to my coffee. “To do what? Lie around naked, waiting for you to finish work and fuck me?”
    His gaze held mine as he collected his mug and sipped his steaming coffee with too-calm deliberation. “Are we going to argue?”
    “Are you going to be difficult? We talked about this. You know I can’t leave Cary after what happened last night.” The multibody tangle I’d found in my living room gave new meaning to the word clusterfuck .
    I put the carton back in the fridge and absorbed the sensation of being drawn to him inexorably by the force of his will. It’d been that way from the beginning. When he chose to, Gideon could make me feel his demands. And it was very, very difficult to ignore the part of me that begged to give him whatever he wanted. “You’re going to take care of business and I’m going to take care of my best friend, then we’ll go back to taking care of each other.”
    “I won’t be back until Sunday night, Eva.”
    Oh . . . I felt a sharp twinge in my belly at hearing we’d be apart that long. Most couples didn’t spend every free moment together, but we weren’t like most people. We both had hang-ups, insecurities, and an addiction to each other that required regular contact to keep us functioning properly. I hated being apart from him. I rarely went more than a couple of hours without thinking of him.
    “You can’t stand the thought, either,” he said quietly, studying me in that way he had that saw everything. “By Sunday we’ll both be worthless.”
    I blew on the surface of my coffee, then took a quick sip. I was unsettled at the thought of going the entire weekend without him. Worse, I hated the thought