Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

Jesus. He broke my heart every day. Shattered me.
    “I know I don’t tell you how I feel about you in the same way you tell me, but you have me. You know that.”
    “Yes, I know you love me, Gideon.” Insanely. Outrageously. Obsessively. Just like my feelings for him.
    “I’m caught up with you, Eva.” With his head tilted back, Gideon pulled me down for the sweetest of kisses, his firm lips moving gently beneath mine. “I’d kill for you,” he whispered, “give up everything I own for you . . . but I won’t give you up. Two days is my limit. Don’t ask for more than that; I can’t give it to you.”
    I didn’t take his words lightly. His wealth insulated him, gave him the power and control that had been stolen from him at some point in his life. He’d suffered brutality and violation, just as I had. That he would consider it worthwhile to lose his peace of mind just to keep me meant more than the words I love you .
    “I just need the two days, ace, and I’ll make them worth your while.”
    The starkness of his gaze bled away, replaced by sexual heat. “Oh? Planning on pacifying me with sex, angel?”
    “Yes,” I admitted shamelessly. “Lots of it. After all, the tactic seems to work well for you.”
    His mouth curved, but his gaze had a sharpness that quickened my breath. The dark look he gave me reminded me—as if I could forget—that Gideon wasn’t a man who could be managed or tamed.
    “Ah, Eva,” he purred, sprawled against the seat with the predatory insouciance of a sleek panther who’d neatly trapped a mouse in his den.
    A delicious shiver moved through me. When it came to Gideon, I was more than willing to be devoured.

Chapter 2
     
    Just before I exited the elevator into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman, the advertising firm I worked for on the twentieth floor, Gideon whispered in my ear, “Think about me all day.”
    I squeezed his hand surreptitiously in the crowded car. “Always do.”
    He continued the ride up to the top floor, which housed the headquarters of Cross Industries. The Crossfire was his, one of many properties he owned throughout the city, including the apartment complex I lived in.
    I tried not to pay attention to that. My mom was a career trophy wife. She’d given up my father’s love for an affluent lifestyle, which I couldn’t relate to at all. I’d prefer love over wealth any day, but I suppose that was easy for me to say because I had money—a sizable investment portfolio—of my own. Not that I ever touched it. I wouldn’t. I’d paid too high a price and couldn’t imagine anything worth the cost.
    Megumi, the receptionist, buzzed me through the glass security door and greeted me with a big smile. She was a pretty woman, young like me, with a stylish bob of glossy black hair framing stunning Asian features.
    “Hey,” I said, stopping by her desk. “Got any plans for lunch?”
    “I do now.”
    “Awesome.” My grin was wide and genuine. As much as I loved Cary and enjoyed spending time with him, I needed girlfriends, too. Cary had already started building a network of acquaintances and friends in our adopted city, but I’d been sucked into the Gideon vortex almost from the outset. As much as I’d prefer to spend every moment with him, I knew it wasn’t healthy. Female friends would give it to me straight when I needed it, and I was going to have to cultivate those friendships if I wanted them.
    Setting off, I headed down the long hallway to my cubicle. When I reached my desk, I put my bag and purse in the bottom drawer, keeping my smartphone out so I could silence it. I found a text from Cary:
I’m sorry, baby girl.
    “Cary Taylor,” I sighed. “I love you . . . even when you’re pissing me off.”
    And he’d pissed me off royally. No woman wanted to come home to a sexual clusterfuck in progress on her living room floor. Especially not while in the middle of a fight with her new boyfriend.
    I texted back,
Block off the wknd 4 me if u can.
    There was a long pause and I imagined him absorbing my request.
Damn,
he texted back finally.
Must be some ass kicking u have planned.
    “Maybe a little,” I muttered, shuddering as I remembered the . . . orgy I’d walked in on. But mostly I thought Cary and I needed to spend some quality downtime together. We hadn’t been living in Manhattan long. It was a new town for us, new apartment, new jobs and experiences, new boyfriends for both of us. We were out of our element and