CHAPTER 2

“More flowers?” Arash Madani drawled as he strolled into my office through the open glass double doors.

My lead attorney walked over to where Eva’s white roses decorated the main seating area. I’d had them placed on the coffee table in my direct line of sight. There, they had been successfully drawing my attention away from the stock tickers streaming on the wall of flat screens behind them.

The card that accompanied the flowers sat on the smoked glass of my desk and I fingered it, rereading the words for the hundredth time.

Arash pulled a rose out and lifted it to his nose. “What’s the secret to getting sent some of these?”

I sat back, absently noting that his emerald-hued tie matched the jeweled decanters decorating the bar. Until his arrival, the brightly colored carafes and Eva’s red vase had been the only spots of color in the monochromatic expanse of my office. “The right woman.”

He returned the flower to its vase. “Go ahead, Cross, rub it in.” “I prefer to gloat quietly. Do you have something for me?”

Approaching my desk, he grinned in a way that told me he loved his job, although I never doubted it. His predatory instincts were nearly as highly developed as my own.

“The Morgan deal is coming together nicely.” Adjusting his tailored

slacks, he settled into one of the two chairs facing my desk. His style was slightly flashier than mine but couldn’t be faulted. “We’ve ironed out the bigger points. Still finessing some clauses, but we should be ready to proceed by next week.”

“Good.”

“You are a man of few words.” Casually, he asked, “You up for getting together this weekend?”

I shook my head. “Eva may want to go out. If so, I’ll try to talk her out of it.”

Arash laughed. “I gotta tell you, I expected you to settle down at some point—we all do, eventually—but I thought I’d have some warning.”

“So did I.” Which wasn’t quite the truth. I never expected to share my life with anyone. I’d never denied that my past shadowed my present, but I saw no need to share that history with anyone before Eva. It couldn’t be

changed, so why rehash it?

Standing, I walked to one of the two floor-to-ceiling walls of windows framing my office and took in the urban splendor sprawling beyond the glass.

I hadn’t known Eva was out there, had been afraid to even dream of finding the one person in the world who would accept and love every facet of me.

How was it possible that I’d found her here, in Manhattan, at the very building I’d had built against sound advice and at great risk? Too expensive, they’d said, and unnecessary. But I’d needed the Cross name to be memorable and mentioned in a different way. My father had dragged our name through the mud; I’d lifted it to the heights of the most relevant city in the world.

“You showed no sign at all you were leaning that way,” Arash said behind me. “If I remember correctly, you tagged two women when we blew out Cinco de Mayo, and a few weeks later you’re telling me to draft an insane prenup.”

I surveyed the city, taking a rare moment to appreciate the hawk’s-eye view afforded me by the height and position of my office in the Crossfire Building. “When have you known me to delay sealing a deal?”

“It’s one thing to expand your portfolio, another to reboot your life overnight.” He chuckled. “So what are your plans, then? Breaking in the new beach house?”

“An excellent idea.” Taking my wife back to the Outer Banks was my goal. Having her all to myself had been heaven. I was happiest when I was

alone with her. She revitalized me, made me anticipate living in a way I never had before.

I’d built my empire with the past in mind. Now, thanks to her, I would continue to build it for our future.

My desk phone flashed. It was Scott, on line one. I pressed the button, and his voice came through the speaker. “Corinne Giroux’s at reception. She says she needs just a few minutes to drop off something for you.

Because it’s private, she wants to give it to you personally.”

“Of course she does,” Arash chimed in. “Maybe it’s more flowers.” I shot him a look. “Wrong woman.”

“If only my wrong women looked like Corinne.”

“Keep thinking that while you head up to reception to get whatever it is she has.”

His brows shot up. “Really? Ouch.”

“She wants to talk, she can talk to my attorney.”

He pushed to his feet and headed out. “Got it, boss.”

I glanced at the clock. Quarter to five. “I’m sure you heard that, Scott, but to be clear, Madani will handle.”

“Yes, Mr. Cross.”

Through the glass wall separating my office from the rest of the floor, I watched Arash round the corner on his way to reception, and then I mentally brushed the whole thing aside. Eva would be with me shortly, the very thing I’d been waiting for since the workday started.

But of course, it couldn’t be that easy.

A flash of crimson in the corner of my eye just a few moments later had me looking back out at the work floor and seeing Corinne marching toward my office with Arash hot on her heels. Her chin lifted when our eyes met.

Her tight smile widened, transforming her from a beautiful woman to a

stunning one. I could admire her the way I would admire anything except Eva—objectively, dispassionately.

Now happily married, I could fully grasp what a horrible mistake it

would have been to marry Corinne. It was unfortunate for all of us that she refused to see it.

I stood and rounded my desk. The look I swept over both Arash and Scott called them off from any further action. If Corinne wanted to deal with me directly, I’d give her one last opportunity to do the right thing.

She glided into my office on red stilettos. The strapless dress she wore was the same hue as the shoes and showed off both her long legs and pale skin. She wore her hair down, the black strands sliding around her bare

shoulders. She was the polar opposite of my wife and a mirror image of every other woman who’d passed through my life.

“Gideon. Surely you can spare a few minutes for an old friend?”

Leaning back into my desk, I crossed my arms. “And extend the courtesy of not calling security. Make it quick, Corinne.”

She smiled, but her eyes, the color of aquamarines, were sad.

She had a small red box tucked under her arm. When she reached me, Corinne offered it to me.

“What is this?” I asked, without reaching for it.

“These are the photos that will appear in the book.”

My brow arched. I found myself unfolding and accepting the box, driven by curiosity. It hadn’t been too long ago that we’d been together, but I

scarcely remembered the details. What I had were impressions, big moments, and regret. I’d been so young, with a dangerous lack of self- awareness.

Corinne set her purse on my desk, moving in a way that brushed her arm against mine. Wary, I reached over and hit the button that controlled the opacity of the glass wall.

If she wanted to put on a show, I’d make sure she didn’t have an audience.

Taking the lid off the box, I was confronted with a photo of Corinne and me entangled in front of a bonfire. Her head was nestled in the crook of my shoulder, her face tilted up so I could press a kiss to her lips.

The memory assailed me immediately. We’d taken a day trip to a friend’s house in the Hamptons. The weather had been cool, fall giving way to

winter.

In the picture we looked happy and in love, and in a way, I suppose we were. But I’d refused the invitation to spend the night, despite Corinne’s obvious disappointment. With my nightmares, I couldn’t sleep beside her. And I couldn’t fuck her, though I knew that was what she wanted, because the hotel room I reserved for that purpose was miles away.

So many hangups. So many lies and evasions.

I took a deep breath and let the past go. “Eva and I were married last month.”

She stiffened.

Setting the box down on the desktop, I reached for my smartphone and

showed her the picture wallpapering my screen—Eva and I sharing the kiss that sealed our vows.

Turning her head, Corinne looked away. Then she reached into the box, flipping through the top few photos to pull out one of us at the beach.

I was standing waist deep in the surf. Corinne was twined around me from the front, her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms draped over my shoulders and her hands in my hair. Her head was tossed back on a laugh, her joy radiating from the image. I gripped her fiercely, my face upturned to watch her. There was gratitude there and wonder. Affection. Desire.

Strangers would see it and think it was love.

Which was Corinne’s goal. I denied that I ever loved anyone before Eva, which was no less than the truth. Corinne was determined to prove me

wrong in the most public way possible.

Leaning over, she looked at the picture, then at me. Her expectation was tangible, as if some monumental epiphany was supposed to strike me. She toyed with her necklace and I realized it was one I’d given her, a small gold heart on a simple chain.

For fuck’s sake. I didn’t even remember who took the damn photo or where we were at the time, and it didn’t matter.

“What do you expect these photos to prove, Corinne? We dated. We ended. You married, and now I have. There’s nothing left.”

“Then why are you getting so upset? You’re not indifferent, Gideon.”

“No, I’m irritated. These only make me appreciate what I have with Eva more. And knowing that they’ll hurt her sure as hell doesn’t make me feel sentimental about the past. This is our final good-bye, Corinne.” I held her gaze, making sure she saw my resolve. “If you come back here, security

won’t let you through.”

“I won’t be back. You’ll have to—”

Scott beeped through and I picked up the phone. “Yes?” “Miss Tramell is here for you.”

I leaned over the desk again, tapping the button that opened the doors. A moment later, Eva walked in.

Would the day ever come when I would see her and not feel the earth shift beneath my feet?

She came to an abrupt halt, giving me the pleasure of taking in the sight of her. Eva was a natural blonde, with pale streaks framing a delicate face and accentuating stormy gray eyes that I could spend hours looking into—

and had. She was petite but dangerously curved, her body deliciously soft to roll around with in bed.

I might’ve called her angelically beautiful, if not for the lush sensuality that always made me think of and crave wickedly raw sex.

Without volition, my mind filled with the memory of her scent and the feel of her beneath my hands. The throaty laugh that brought me joy and the fiery quick temper that rocked me on my feet were visceral recollections.

Everything in me thrummed to life, a surge of energy and awareness I felt at no other time than when I was with her.

Corinne spoke first. “Hello, Eva.”

I bristled. The urge to shield and protect the most valuable thing in my life overrode any other consideration.

Straightening, I tossed the photo back in the box and went to my wife.

Compared to Corinne, she was dressed demurely in a black pinstriped skirt and a sleeveless silk blouse that gleamed like a pearl. The surge of heat I felt was all the proof I needed as to which woman was sexier.

Eva. Now and forever.

The pull I felt drew me across the room in long, quick strides.

Angel.

I didn’t say the word aloud, didn’t want Corinne to hear it. But I could see that Eva felt it. I reached for her hand, felt a tingle of deep recognition that tightened my grip.

She shifted to look past me and acknowledge the woman who was no rival. “Corinne.”

I didn’t turn to look.

“I have to run,” Corinne said behind me. “Those copies are for you, Gideon.”

Unable to take my gaze off Eva, I spoke over my shoulder. “Take them with you. I don’t want them.”

“You should finish going through them,” she countered, approaching.

“Why?” Aggravated, I glanced at Corinne when she stopped next to us.

“If I have any interest in seeing them, I can always flip through your book.” Her smile tightened. “Good-bye, Eva. Gideon.”

As she left, I took another step toward my wife, closing the final bit of distance between us. I caught her other hand, leaning over her to breathe in the scent of her perfume. Calm drifted through me.

“I’m glad you came.” I whispered the words against her forehead, needing every connection I could manage. “I miss you so much.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned into me with a sigh.

Feeling the lingering strain in her, I tightened my grip on her hands. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”

“Neither was I.” As much as I hated to pull away, I hated the thought of those photos even more.

Returning to my desk, I put the lid back on the box and tossed the whole thing into the trash.

“I quit my job,” she said. “Tomorrow’s my last day.”

That decision was one I’d wanted her to come to. I believed it was the best and safest step for her to take. But I knew what a difficult conclusion it must have been for her to make. Eva loved her job and the people she

worked with.

Knowing how well she could read me, I kept my tone neutral. “Did you?”

“Yep.”

I studied her. “What’s next for you, then?” “I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

“Ah.” My mouth curved. After days of fearing she had second thoughts and wanted out of our marriage, it was a relief to hear otherwise. “Good to know.”

I beckoned her closer with a crook of my finger.

“Meet me halfway,” she shot back, with a glint of challenge in her eyes. How could I resist? We met in the middle of the room.

That was why we were going to get past this and every other hurdle we faced: We would always meet each other halfway.

She wouldn’t ever be the docile wife my friend Arnoldo Ricci had wished for me. Eva was too independent, too fierce. She had a jealous

streak a mile wide. She was demanding and stubborn, and she defied me just to drive me crazy.

And that friction worked in a way it never could have with any other woman, because Eva was meant for me. I believed that as I believed in nothing else.

“Is this what you want?” I asked her quietly, searching her face for the answer.

“You’re what I want. The rest is just logistics.”

My mouth was suddenly dry and my heartbeat too quick. When she lifted a hand to brush my hair back I caught her wrist and pressed her palm to my cheek, my eyes closing as I absorbed her touch.

The past week melted away. The days we’d spent apart, the hours of

silence, the crippling fear … She’d been showing me all day that she was ready to move ahead, that I’d made the right decision to talk to Dr. Petersen. To talk to her.

Not only didn’t she turn away, she wanted me more. And she called me

miraculous?

Eva sighed. I felt the last of her tension drift away. We stood there, reconnecting with each other, taking the strength we needed. It shook me to the core to know that I could bring her some measure of peace.

And what had she brought me? Everything.

The way Angus’s face brightened when Eva exited the Crossfire Building moved me in ways I could never explain. Angus McLeod was quiet by nature and by training. He rarely showed any emotion at all, but he made an exception for Eva.

Or maybe he couldn’t help himself. God knew I couldn’t.

“Angus.” Eva flashed him her bright, open smile. “You’re looking especially dapper today.”

I watched as the man I loved like a father touched the brim of his

chauffeur’s hat and smiled back with an amusing touch of embarrassment.

After my dad’s suicide, my entire life was upended. In the messy years that followed, the one point of stability had been Angus, a man hired to be a driver and bodyguard but who turned out to be a lifeline instead. At a time when I felt isolated and betrayed, when even my own mother refused to believe I’d been repeatedly raped by the therapist who was supposed to help me adjust, Angus had been the one to anchor me. He never doubted me.

And when I struck out on my own, he’d come with me.

As my wife’s sleek, toned legs slid out of view into the backseat of the Bentley, Angus spoke. “Let’s not muck it up this time, lad.”

My mouth twisted ruefully. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

I joined Eva, settling in as Angus rounded the car to reach the driver’s

seat. I set my hand on her thigh and waited for her to look at me. “I want to take you to the beach house this weekend.”

She held her breath a moment, then released it in a rush. “My mom invited us up to Westport. Stanton’s asked his nephew, Martin, to come, and

Martin’s girlfriend, Lacey—she’s Megumi’s roommate, I don’t know if you remember …. Cary will be there, too, of course. Anyway, I said we’d

come.”

Wrestling with disappointment, I considered my options.

“I want us to do some family things,” she went on. “Plus, my mom wants to talk about this plan I have.”

I listened as she related her lunchtime conversation with Monica.

Eva studied my face as she finished. “She said you wouldn’t like the idea, but you’ve used the paparazzi before, when you dipped me on the sidewalk and kissed me until I couldn’t think straight. You wanted that picture out there.”

“Yes, but the opportunity presented itself, I didn’t seek it out. Your mother’s right—there is a difference.”

Her lower lip curved downward, and I revised my strategy. I wanted her involved and actively participating. That meant encouragement and

acknowledgment, not roadblocks. “But you’re also right, angel. If there’s an audience for Corinne’s book, there’s a market void that needs to be filled

and we should address that.”

The smile she beamed at me was its own reward.

“I was thinking we could ask Cary to take some candid photos of us this weekend,” she said. “Some moments that are more personal and casual than red carpet photo ops. We can sell the ones we like best to the media and donate the proceeds to Crossroads.”

The charitable foundation I’d established had plenty of funding, but I understood that raising money was a side benefit to Eva’s plan to mitigate the impact of Corinne’s tell-all book. Because I regretted the pain the

situation was bound to cause my wife, I was prepared to support her in whatever way she needed, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight for a weekend alone with her.

“We can make it a day trip,” I suggested, beginning the negotiation at the extreme, which gave me room to whittle down. “We can spend Friday night through Sunday morning in North Carolina, then spend Sunday in

Westport.”

“Go from North Carolina to Connecticut to Manhattan in a day? Are you nuts?”

“Friday night through Saturday night, then.”

“We can’t be alone like that, Gideon,” she said softly, setting her hand over mine. “We need to follow Dr. Petersen’s advice for a while. I think we need to spend some time dating, going out in public, figuring out how to take care of … issues without using sex as a crutch.”

I stared at her. “You’re not saying we can’t have sex.” “Just until we’re married. It won’t be—”

“Eva, we’re already married. You can’t ask me to keep my hands off you.”

“I am asking.” “No.”

Her mouth twitched. “You can’t say no.”

“You can’t say no,” I countered, my heart beginning to pound. My palms grew damp, a low-grade panic beginning to set in. It was irrational, infuriating. “You want me as much as I want you.”

She touched my face. “I sometimes think I want you more, and I’m okay with that. But Dr. Petersen’s right. We moved so fast and we’ve been hitting all the speed bumps at a hundred miles per hour. I feel like we have this little window of time when we can slow down. Just for a few weeks, until the wedding.”

“A few weeks? Christ, Eva.” I pulled away, running my hand through my hair. Turning my head, I looked out the window. My mind was racing. What did this mean? Why would she ask?

How the fuck was I going to talk her out of it? I felt her slide closer, then curl up against me.

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Weren’t you the one who brought up the benefits of delayed gratification?”

I shot her a look. “And how well did that turn out?”

That night was one of the bigger mistakes I’d made in our relationship.

The evening started out so strong, and then Corinne’s unexpected

appearance threw everything off, spurring one of the worst arguments Eva

and I ever had—an argument made more volatile by the seething sexual tension I’d deliberately stoked and held off on satisfying.

“We were different people then.” Eva drew back, her gray eyes clear as they held mine. “You’re not the same man who ignored me at that dinner.”

“I didn’t ignore you.”

“And I’m not the same woman,” she pushed on. “Yes, seeing Corinne today made me a little twitchy, but I know she’s not a threat. I know you’re committed …. We’re committed. That’s why we can do this.”

The spread of my legs widened as I stretched out. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t either. But I think it’s a good idea.” Her mouth softened with a

smile. “It’s old-fashioned and romantic to wait ’til the wedding night. Think how hot the sex will be when we do it.”

“Eva, we don’t need our sex life to be any hotter.”

“We need it to be something we do for fun, not because we’re counting on it to hold us together.”

“It’s both, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” She might as well have asked me not to eat, which I would’ve been more inclined to agree to, given the choice.

“Gideon … we have something amazing together. It’s worth the effort to make us rock solid in every way.”

I shook my head. It pissed me off that I was feeling anxious. It was a loss of control and I couldn’t have that with her. It wasn’t what she needed.

Leaning forward, I put my lips to her ear. “Angel, if you’re not missing the feel of my cock inside you, I need to step it up, not hold back.”

Her shiver made me smile inwardly. Still, she whispered, “Please try. For me.”

“Fuck.” I dropped back into my seat. As much as I wanted to say no to her, I couldn’t. Not even about this. “Damn it.”

“Don’t be mad. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important to try.

And it’s such a short time.”

“Eva, five minutes would be a short amount of time. You’re talking weeks.”

“Baby …” She laughed softly. “You’re pouting. It’s so adorable.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to my cheek. “And really flattering. Thank you.”

My gaze narrowed. “I’m not agreeing to make this easy for you.”

She trailed her fingers down my tie. “Of course not. We’ll try to make it fun. A challenge. See who breaks first.”

“Me,” I muttered. “I’ve got no fucking incentive to win this.”

“How about me? Wrapped up in a bow—and nothing else—as your birthday present?”

I scowled. Nothing was capable of making this more palatable. Even the thought of her bursting out of a cake naked couldn’t make this better. “What does my birthday have to do with anything?”

Eva dazzled me with her smile, which only made me want her more. She was sunlight and warmth at any time, but when she was beneath me,

writhing in pleasure and moaning for harder … deeper … “That’s when we’re getting married.”

It took a second for that to sink into my lust-addled brain. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t either, until today. On my last break, I went online, trying to see if there was anything happening in September or October that I should

consider when setting a date. Since we’re getting married on the beach, we don’t want it to be too cold, so we’ve got to get it done this month or next.”

“Thank God for winter,” I grumbled.

“Fiend. Anyway … I got a Google alert about you—” “You’re still doing that?”

“—and there was a post about us on this fan site. There was—” “Fan site?”

“Yep. There are whole sites and blogs dedicated to you. What you’re wearing, who you’re dating, events you’re attending.”

“Jesus.”

“The one I went to had all your stats: height, weight, eye color, birth date

… everything. To be honest, it freaked me out a little that some total

stranger knew other details about you that I don’t, which is another reason why I think we need to date each other and talk more—”

“I can recite stats while we’re fucking. Problem solved.”

Her grin was delighted. “You slay me. Anyway, having the wedding on your birthday is a good idea, don’t you think? You’ll never forget our

anniversary.”

“Our wedding anniversary is August eleventh,” I reminded her dryly.

“We’ll have two to celebrate.” She ran her hand through my hair, tripping my pulse. “Or better yet, we’ll celebrate straight through from one to the other.”

August 11 through September 22—a full month and a half. The thought of that was almost enough to make the next few weeks bearable.

“Eva. Gideon.” Dr. Lyle Petersen stood and smiled as we walked into his office. He was a tall man, and his gaze lowered a noticeable distance to take in our linked hands. “You’re both looking well.”

“I feel good,” Eva said, sounding strong and sure.

I didn’t say anything, extending my hand to shake his.

The good doctor knew things about me I’d hoped never to share with

anyone. Because of that, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with him, despite the soothing blend of neutral colors and comfortable furniture that made up his office. Dr. Petersen himself was a comfortable man, easy in his own skin.

His neatly groomed gray hair did much to soften his appearance but couldn’t distract from how incisive and perceptive he was.

It was hard to rely on someone who knew so much my vulnerabilities, but I dealt with it as best I could because I had no other choice—Dr.

Petersen was a pivotal player in my marriage.

Eva and I took seats on the sofa, while Dr. Petersen settled into his usual wingback chair. He left his tablet and stylus sitting on the arm and studied us with dark blue eyes that were sharp with intelligence.

“Gideon,” he began, “tell me what’s happened since I saw you on Tuesday.”

I settled back and got to the point. “Eva’s decided to follow your recommendation to abstain from sex until we marry publicly.”

Eva’s low, husky laugh broke out. She leaned into me, hugging my arm. “Did you catch the note of accusation?” she asked the doctor. “It’s all your fault he’s not going to get any for a couple weeks.”

“It’s more than two weeks,” I argued.

“But less than three,” she shot back. She smiled at Dr. Petersen. “I should’ve known he’d bring that up first.”

“What would you start with, Eva?” he asked.

“Gideon told me the details about his nightmare last night.” She glanced at me. “That was huge. It’s a really big turning point for us.”

There was no mistaking the love in her eyes when she spoke, or the gratitude and hope. It tightened my throat to see it. Talking to her about the fucked-up shit in my head was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do—even telling Dr. Petersen about Hugh had been easier—but it was all worth it just to see that look on her face.

The ugliest things about each other brought us closer. It was crazy and it was wonderful. I pulled her hand into my lap, cupping it with both of mine. I felt the same love, gratitude, and hope that she did.

Dr. Petersen picked up his tablet. “Quite a few revelations for you this week, Gideon. What brought them on?”

“You know.”

“Eva stopped seeing you.” “And speaking to me.”

He looked at Eva. “Was that because Gideon hired your boss away from the agency you work for?”

“That was the catalyst,” she agreed, “but we’d been building up to a breaking point. Something had to give. We couldn’t keep going in circles, having the same arguments.”

“So you withdrew. That could be considered emotional blackmail. Was that your intent?”

Her lips pursed as she weighed that. “I’d call it desperation.” “Why?”

“Because Gideon was … drawing lines to define our relationship. And I couldn’t imagine living within those lines for the rest of my life.”

Dr. Petersen made some notes. “Gideon, what do you think about how Eva handled this situation?”

It took me a minute to answer. “It felt like a goddamned time warp, but a hundred times worse.”

He glanced at me. “I remember when you first came to see me, you and Eva hadn’t spoken for a couple of days.”

“He cut me off,” she said.

“She walked out,” I countered.

Again, it had been a night when we’d really opened up to each other. She told me about Nathan’s assaults, let me see the source of what had unconsciously drawn us together. Then I’d had a nightmare about my own abuse and she pushed me to talk about it.

I couldn’t and she left me.

Eva bristled. “He broke it off with me via interoffice memo! Who does that?”

“I didn’t break it off,” I corrected. “I challenged you to come back. You walk away when things don’t—”

“That’s emotional blackmail.” She released my hand and shifted to face me. “You cut me off for the express purpose of making me accept your

status quo. I don’t like the way things are? Well, then, you’ll shut me out until I can’t take it anymore.”

“Didn’t you just do that to me?” My jaw clenched. “And you seem to take it just fine. If I don’t change, you don’t budge.”

And that killed me. She’d proven so many times that she could leave and not look back, while I couldn’t breathe without her. That was a fundamental imbalance in our relationship, which gave her the upper hand in everything.

“You sound resentful, Gideon,” Dr. Petersen interjected. “And I don’t?” Eva crossed her arms.

I shook my head. “It’s not resentment. It’s … frustration. I can’t walk away, but she can.”

“That’s not fair! And it’s not true. The only leverage I’ve got is to make you miss me. I try talking it out with you, but in the end, you do what you want. You don’t tell me things, don’t consult me.”

“I’m working on that.”

“Now you are, but I had to pull away to make you do it. Be honest,

Gideon, I came along and you realized you had a void in your life that I

could fill, and you wanted to put me there and leave the rest of your life as it was.”

“What I wanted was for you to let us—be us. Just enjoy each other for a while.”

“My right to decide, to say yes or no, is fucking important to me! You’ve got no business taking that away from me or getting pissed when I don’t like it!”

“Jesus.” Reality check. It felt like I’d taken a punch to the gut.

Considering her history, to have her feel—for even a moment—that I’d taken her choices away was a brutal blow. “Eva …”

I knew what she needed, had recognized it from the first. I’d given her a safeword that I respected at all times, in public or private. She said the word and I stopped. I reminded her often, made sure she always knew that the

choice to cease or continue rested entirely with her.

But I’d failed to make the connection when it came to her job. It was inexcusable.

I turned toward her. “Angel, I didn’t mean to make you feel powerless. I would never. Ever. I didn’t think of it that way. I’m … I’m sorry.”

The words weren’t enough; they never were. I wanted to be her fresh start, her new beginning. How could I be when I was acting like the

assholes in her past?

She looked at me with those eyes that saw everything I’d rather keep hidden. For once, I was grateful that she could.

Her combative posture relaxed. Her gaze softened with love. “Maybe I haven’t been explaining myself well.”

I sat there, unable to express what was churning through my mind. When we talked about being a team and sharing our burdens, I hadn’t related it to her needing the power to agree or disagree. I thought I could shield her from the troubles we faced and make things smoother for her. Eva deserved that.

She poked my shoulder. “Didn’t it feel good, even a little bit, to talk to me about your dream last night?”

“I don’t know.” I exhaled harshly. “I just know you’re happy with me because I did. If that’s what it takes … then that’s what I’ll do.”

She sank back into the sofa cushions, her lips trembling. She looked at Dr. Petersen. “And now I feel guilty.”

Silence. I didn’t know what to say. Dr. Petersen just waited with that maddening patience.

Eva took a deep, shaky breath. “I was thinking if he’d just try it my way, he’d see how much better it could be between us. But if I’m just pushing him into a corner … if I’m just blackmailing him …” A tear slid down her face, cutting into me like a blade. “Maybe we have different ideas about

what our marriage should be. What if that’s not going to change?”

“Eva.” I put my arm around her and pulled her closer, grateful when she leaned into me and put her head on my shoulder. Not surrender. More like a momentary truce. Good enough.

“That’s an important question,” Dr. Petersen said. “So let’s explore it. What if the level of disclosure you want from Gideon isn’t something he will ever feel comfortable with?”

“I don’t know.” She swiped at her tears. “I don’t know where that leaves us.”

All the hope she’d had when we entered the room was gone. Stroking her hair, I tried to come up with something to say that would take things back to the way they’d been when we arrived.

Lost, I told her, “You quit your job for me, even though you didn’t want to. I told you about my dream, even though I didn’t want to. Isn’t that how this works? We both compromise?”

“You left your job, Eva?” Dr. Petersen asked. “Why?”

She curled into my side. “It was starting to cause more trouble than it was worth. Besides, Gideon’s right—he gave a little, so it seems only fair to give a little, too.”

“I wouldn’t say what either of you compromised was ‘little.’ And both of you chose to open our session with other things first, which suggests neither of you are completely comfortable with the sacrifice.” He sat back, setting his tablet in his lap. “Have either of you asked yourselves why you’re in

such a hurry?”

We both looked at him.

He smiled. “You’re both frowning, so I’ll take that as a no. As a couple, you have a lot of strengths. You may not be sharing everything, but you’re communicating and you’re doing so productively. There’s some anger and frustration, but you’re expressing them and validating each other’s feelings.”

Eva straightened. “But …?”

“You’re also both pushing personal agendas and manipulating each other to make them happen. My concern is that they’re issues and changes that

would naturally present themselves and be resolved in time, but neither of you wants to wait. You’re both driving your relationship forward on an

accelerated schedule. It’s only been three months since you two met for the first time. At this point, most couples are deciding to date exclusively, but you two have been married for nearly a month.”

I felt my shoulders going back. “What’s the point in delaying the inevitable?”

“If it’s inevitable,” he responded, his eyes kind, “why rush it? But that’s not my point. You’re both jeopardizing your marriage by forcing each other to act before you’re ready. You each have ways of coping with adverse

situations. Gideon, you disassociate, as you’ve done with your family. Eva, you blame yourself for why the relationship isn’t working and start

subverting your own needs, as you’ve demonstrated with your previous self-destructive romantic relationships. If you continue to maneuver each

other into situations where you feel threatened, you will eventually trigger one of these self-defense mechanisms.”

As my pulse began to race, I felt Eva stiffen. She’d said as much to me before, but I knew hearing it from a shrink would validate that worry for her. I pulled her closer, breathing her in to calm myself. The hatred I felt for Hugh and Nathan in that moment was vicious. They were both dead and buried, but they were still fucking up our lives.

“We’re not going to let them win,” Eva whispered.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, fiercely grateful for her. Her thoughts were like mine and that filled me with a sense of wonder.

Her head tilted back, her fingertips drifting along my jaw, her gray eyes soft and tender. “I can’t hold out against you, you know. It hurts too much to stay away. Just because you cross the battle lines first doesn’t mean I’m less invested. It just means I’m more stubborn.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“So let’s not,” she said simply. “We started something new today—you talking, me quitting. Let’s stick with it for a while and see where it takes us.”

“I can do that.”

I’d originally planned to take Eva someplace quiet and tucked away for dinner, but I changed the venue to the Crosby Street Hotel instead. The restaurant was popular and the hotel was known to often have paparazzi nearby. I wasn’t prepared to go to any extremes, but as we’d discussed with Dr. Petersen, I was open to meeting her halfway. We would find our middle ground.

“How pretty,” she said, as we followed the hostess to our seats, her gaze taking in the pale blue walls and subdued pendant lighting.

When we reached our table, I scanned the space as I pulled the chair out for her. She was attracting attention, as she always did. Eva was a stunner by any measure, but her sex appeal was something you had to witness

firsthand. It was there in the way she moved, the way she carried herself, in the curve of her smile.

And she was mine. The glance I spared the other diners made that patently clear.

I took the seat opposite her, admiring the way the light of the candle on the table gilded her golden skin and hair. The gloss on her lips invited long, deep kisses, as did the look in her eyes. No one had ever looked at me the way she did, with total acceptance and understanding blended in with the love and desire.

I could tell her anything and she would believe me. Such a simple gift, but so rare and precious. Only my silence could push her away, never the truth.

“Angel.” I took her hand. “I’m going to ask you again, and then I’ll let it go. Are you sure you want to quit your job? You won’t hold it against me twenty years from now? There’s nothing we can’t fix or undo, if you just

say the word.”

“Twenty years from now, you might be working for me, ace.” Her husky laugh floated through the air and stirred my hunger for her. “Don’t worry, okay? It was actually kind of a relief. I’ve got a lot on my plate: packing, moving, planning. When that’s all behind us, I’ll figure out what’s next.”

I knew her well. If she’d had doubts, I would have sensed them. What I picked up on instead was something different. Something new.

There was a fire inside her.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her, even as I ordered wine.

After the server walked away, I lounged back, enjoying the simple pleasure of staring at my gorgeous wife.

Eva wet her lips with a teasing swipe of her tongue and leaned forward. “You are so insanely hot.”

My mouth quirked. “Am I now?”

Her calf rubbed mine. “You are—by far—the hottest man in the room, which makes this really fun. I like showing you off.”

I gave an exaggerated sigh. “You still just want me for my body.” “Totally. Who cares about your billions? You’ve got better assets.”

I trapped her wandering leg between my ankles. “Like my wife. She’s the most valuable thing I own.”

Her brows rose with amusement. “Own, huh?”

She smiled at the server when he returned with our bottle. As he poured, Eva’s foot drifted up to tease me, her eyes heavy-lidded and hot. I pushed the glass toward her, watched her swirl the dark red wine, lift the glass to her nose, then take a swallow. The hum of pleasure she made as she

approved my choice sent a surge of heat through me, which was certainly her intent. The slow stroking along my leg was maddening. I grew harder by the minute, already more than primed by days of deprivation.

I hadn’t known sex could quench a deeper thirst, until Eva.

Taking a sip out of my freshly poured glass, I waited until the server walked away. “Have you changed your mind about waiting?”

“No. Just keeping things interesting.” “Two can play,” I warned.

She grinned. “That’s what I’m counting on.”