Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

asked, feeling so emotionally raw after the long night we’d had.
    He caught my wrist and pulled my hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”
    My love . . . It had been hard on him, too. “I’m so sorry.”
    “So am I.” He kissed my fingertips, then linked our hands and led me up to the house.
    The door was unlocked and he walked right in. A wire mesh basket sat on a console just inside the door, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses tied with ribbon. As Gideon turned the deadbolt with a firm click, I plucked the Welcome envelope out and opened it. A key fell into my palm.
    “We won’t be needing that.” He took the key from me and set it on the console. “For the next two days, we’re going to be hermits together.”
    A hum of pleasure warmed me from the inside, followed by more than a little awe that a man like Gideon Cross could enjoy my company so much he didn’t need anyone else.
    “Come on,” he said, tugging me toward the stairs. “We’ll break into that wine later.”
    “Yeah. Coffee first.”
    I took in the décor of the house. It was rustic on the outside and modern contemporary on the inside. The wainscoted walls were painted a bright white and decorated with massive black-and-white photos of seashells. The furniture was all white, and most of the accessory pieces were glass and metal. It would have been stark if not for the gorgeous view of the ocean and the color introduced in the area rugs covering the hardwood floors and the collection of hardcover books filling built-in bookcases.
    When we reached the top floor, I felt a flutter of happiness. The master suite was a totally open space, with only two support columns to break it up. Bouquets of white roses, white tulips, and white calla lilies covered nearly every flat surface, and some even sat on the floor in strategic areas. The bed was massive and covered in white satin, which made me think of a bridal suite, an impression reinforced by the black-and-white photo of a filmy scarf or veil blowing in the breeze hanging over the headboard.
    I looked at Gideon. “Have you been here before?”
    He reached up and freed my now-lopsided ponytail. “No. What reason would I have to come here?”
    Right. He didn’t take women anywhere but his hotel fuck pad—that he apparently still had. My eyes closed wearily as he ran his fingers through the loosened tresses of my hair. I didn’t have the energy to get riled up about that.
    “Take your clothes off, angel. I’ll start the bath.”
    He backed up. I opened my eyes and caught him by the shirt. I didn’t know what to say; I just didn’t want him to go.
    He understood, because he got me.
    “I’m not going anywhere, Eva.” Gideon cupped my jaw in his hands and stared into my eyes, showing me the intensity and laser focus that had snared me from the first. “If you wanted him, it wouldn’t be enough for me to let you go. I want you too much. I want you with me, in my life, in my bed. If I can have that, nothing else matters. I’m not too proud to take what I can get.”
    I swayed into him, drawn to his obsessive and insatiable raw need for me, which reflected the depth of my need for him. My hand fisted in the cotton of his T-shirt.
    “Angel,” he breathed, lowering his head to press his cheek to mine. “You can’t let me go, either.”
    He swept me up in his arms and carried me into the bathroom with him.

Chapter 11
     
    I reclined with my eyes closed, my back cradled against Gideon’s chest, listening to the sound of lapping water as his hands glided lazily over me in the claw-foot tub.
    He’d washed my hair and then my body, pampering me, spoiling me. I knew he was making up for last night and the method he’d used to get me to face the truth—a truth he’d clearly known but needed me to see as well.
    How did he know me so well . . . better than I knew myself?
    “Tell me about him,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around my waist.
    I took a deep breath. I’d been waiting for him to ask about Brett. I knew Gideon well, too. “First, tell me if he’s okay.”
    There was a pause before he answered. “There’s no permanent damage. Would you care if there was?”
    “Of course I’d care.” I heard his teeth grind.
    “I want to know about you two,” he demanded tightly.
    “No.”
    “Eva . . .”
    “Don’t take that tone with me, Gideon. I’m tired of being an open book for you while you hoard all your secrets.” My head rolled to the side so