Entwined with You: A Crossfire Novel (Crossfire Book 3) (10 page)

I froze. “Is that—? Are you—?” Swallowing hard, I whispered, “Not now. Not like this.”

“No, not like this,” Gideon agreed, rubbing his lips back and forth over mine. “When I propose, angel, trust me, you’ll know it.”

My throat was tight. I could only nod.

“Breathe,” he ordered gently. “One more time. Now, reassure me that’s not panic.”

“Not really. No.”

“Talk to me, Eva.”

“I just …” I blurted it out in a rush. “I want you to ask me when I can say yes.”

Tension gripped his body. He leaned back, his eyes wounded beneath his frown. “You couldn’t say yes now?”

I shook my head.

His mouth thinned into a determined line. “Lay out what you need from me to make that happen.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, so that he’d feel the connection between us. “There’s so much I don’t know. And it’s not that I need to know more in order to make up my mind, because nothing could make me stop loving you. Nothing. I just feel like your hesitance to share things with me means that
you’re
not ready.”

“I think I followed that,” he muttered.

“I can’t take the risk that you won’t want forever with me. I won’t survive you, either, Gideon.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

He made a frustrated noise. “Be specific. Start with something.”

The first thing that came to mind was what came out of my mouth, because I’d been buried in his business all morning. “Vidal Records. Why are you in control of your stepfather’s company?”

“Because it was going under.” His jaw hardened. “My mother had already suffered through one financial meltdown; I wasn’t going to let it happen to her again.”

“What did you do?”

“I was able to convince her to talk them—Chris and Christopher—into taking the company public, then she sold Ireland’s shares to me. In addition to what I acquired, I had the majority.”

“Wow.” I squeezed his hand. I’d met both Christopher Vidal Sr.—Chris—and Christopher Vidal Jr. As alike as father and son were in appearance, with their dark copper waves and grayish-green eyes, I suspected they were very different men. Certainly I knew Christopher was a douche. I didn’t think his father was. At least I hoped he wasn’t. “How did that go over?”

Gideon’s arch look was all the answer I needed. “Chris would ask for my advice, but Christopher always refused to take it and my stepdad wouldn’t choose sides.”

“So you did what had to be done.” I kissed his jaw. “Thank you for telling me.”

“That’s it?”

I smiled. “No.”

I was about to ask him more when I heard my phone ringing with my mother’s ring tone. I was surprised it had taken her so long to call; I’d taken my smartphone off mute around ten o’clock. Groaning, I said, “I have to get that.”

He let me up, his hand stroking over my butt as I walked away. When I turned at the doorway to look back, he was poring over my notes and suggestions. I smiled.

By the time I reached my phone on the breakfast bar, it had stopped ringing, but it immediately started up again. “Mom,” I answered, jumping in before she started flipping out. “I’m going to come over today, okay? And we’ll talk.”

“Eva. You have no idea how worried I’ve been! You can’t do this to me!”

“I’ll be over in an hour,” I interjected. “I just need to get dressed.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, I was so upset.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep much, either,” I retorted. “It’s not just about you all the time, Mom. I’m the one who had her privacy violated. You’re just the one who got caught doing it.”

Silence.

It was rare for me to be assertive with my mother because she always seemed so fragile, but it was time to redefine our relationship or we’d end up not having one. I looked to my wrist for the time, remembered I didn’t have a watch anymore, and glanced at the cable box by the television instead. “I’ll be over around one.”

“I’ll send a car for you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you. See you soon.” I hung up.

I was about to drop my phone back into my purse when it beeped with a text from Shawna: What r u wearing 2nite?

A number of ideas ran through my mind, from casual to outrageous. Even though I was inclined toward outrageous, I was checked by thoughts of Deanna. I had to think about what I’d look like in the tabloids. LBD, I replied, thinking the little black dress was a classic for a reason. Wild heels. Too much jewelry.

Got it! See u at 7, she texted back.

On the way to the bedroom, I paused by Gideon’s office and lounged against the doorjamb to watch him. I could watch him for hours; he was such a joy to look at. And I found him very sexy when he was focused.

He glanced up at me with a soft curve to his lips, and I knew he’d been aware of my staring. “This is all very good,” he praised, gesturing at his desktop. “Especially considering you pulled this together in a matter of hours.”

I preened a little, thrilled to have impressed a businessman whose acumen had made him one of the most successful individuals in the world.

“I want you at Cross Industries, Eva.”

My body reacted to the unwavering determination in his voice, which reminded me of when he’d said,
I want to fuck you, Eva
, when he’d first come on to me.

“I want you there, too,” I said. “On your desk.”

His eyes gleamed. “We can celebrate that way.”

“I like my job. I like my co-workers. I like knowing I’ve earned every milestone I reach.”

“I can give you that and more.” His fingers tapped against the side of his coffee mug. “I’m guessing you went with advertising because you like the spin. Why not public relations?”

“Too much like propaganda. At least with advertising, you know the bias right away.”

“You mentioned crisis management this morning. And clearly”—he gestured at his desk—“you have an aptitude for it. Let me exploit it.”

I crossed my arms. “Crisis management is PR and you know it.”

“You’re a problem solver. I can make you a fixer. Give you real, time-sensitive problems to solve. Keep you challenged and active.”

“Seriously.” I tapped my foot. “How many crises do you have in a given week?”

“Several,” he said cheerfully. “Come on, you’re intrigued. I can see it on your face.”

Straightening, I pointed out, “You have people to handle that kind of stuff already.”

Gideon leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I want more. So do you. Let’s have it together.”

“You’re like the devil himself, you know that? And you’re stubborn as hell. I’m telling you, working together would be a bad idea.”

“We’re working together just fine now.”

I shook my head. “Because you agreed with my assessment and suggestions, plus you had me sitting in your lap and you copped a feel of
my ass. It’s not going to be the same when we’re not on the same page and arguing about it in your office in front of other people. Then we’ll have to bring that irritation home and deal with it here, too.”

“We can agree to leave work at the door.” His eyes slid over me, lingering on my legs, which were mostly bared by my silk robe. “I won’t have any problem thinking of more enjoyable things.”

Rolling my eyes, I backed out of the room. “Sex maniac.”

“I love making love with you.”

“That’s not fair,” I complained, having no defense against that. No defense against
him
.

Gideon grinned. “I never said I play fair.”

W
HEN
I entered my apartment fifteen minutes later, it felt weird. The floor plan was identical to Gideon’s next door, but reversed. The blending of his furniture and mine had helped to make his space feel like
ours
but had the side effect of making me feel like my home was … alien.

“Hey, Eva.”

I looked around and saw Trey in the kitchen, pouring milk into two glasses. “Hey,” I greeted him back. “How are you?”

“Better.”

He looked it. His blond hair, which was usually unruly, had been nicely styled—one of Cary’s talents. Trey’s hazel eyes were bright, his smile charming beneath his once-broken nose.

“It’s good to see you around more,” I told him.

“I rearranged my schedule a bit.” He held up the milk and I shook my head, so he put it away. “How are you?”

“Dodging reporters, hoping my boss gets engaged, planning on setting one parent straight, fitting in a phone call to the other parent, and looking forward to hitting the town with the girls tonight.”

“You’re awesome.”

“What can I say?” I smiled. “How’s school? And work?”

I knew Trey was studying to be a veterinarian and juggling jobs to pay for it. One of those gigs was as a photographer’s assistant, which was how he’d met Cary.

He winced. “Both brutal, but it’ll pay off someday.”

“We should have another movie-and-pizza night when you get a chance.” I couldn’t help rooting for Trey in the tug-of-war between him and Tatiana. It could just be me, but she’d always seemed very adversarial toward me. And I didn’t like the way she’d put herself forward when she met Gideon.

“Sure. I’ll see what Cary’s schedule is like.”

I regretted bringing it up to Trey first instead of Cary, because some of the light left his eyes. I knew he was thinking about Cary having to fit him in between time with Tatiana. “Well, if he’s not up for it, we can always go out without him.”

His mouth tilted up on one side. “Sounds like a plan.”

A
T
ten minutes to one, I exited the lobby to find Clancy already waiting for me. He waved aside the doorman and opened the town car door for me, but no one looking at him would believe he was just a driver. He carried himself like the weapon he was, and in all the years I’d known him, I couldn’t recall ever seeing him smile.

Once he’d resumed his seat behind the wheel, he turned off the police scanner he routinely listened to and pulled his sunglasses down enough to catch my eye in the rearview mirror. “How are you?”

“Better than my mom, I’m guessing.”

He was too professional to give anything away in his expression. Instead, he slid his shades back into place and synced my phone to the car’s Bluetooth to start my playlist. Then he pulled away from the curb.

Reminded of his thoughtfulness, I said, “Hey. I’m sorry I took it out on you. You were doing a job and you didn’t deserve to get bitched at for it.”

“You’re not just a job, Miss Tramell.”

I was silent for a bit, absorbing that. Clancy and I had a distant, polite association. We saw each other quite a bit because he was responsible for getting me to and from my Krav Maga classes in Brooklyn. But I’d never really thought about him having any sort of personal stake in my safety, although it made sense. Clancy was a guy who took pride in his work.

“It wasn’t just that one thing, though,” I clarified. “A lot of stuff happened before you and Stanton ever came into the picture.”

“Apology accepted.”

The brusque reply was so like him that it made me smile.

Settling more comfortably into the seat, I looked out the window at the city I’d adopted and loved passionately. On the sidewalk beside me, strangers stood shoulder to shoulder over a tiny counter, eating individual slices of pizza. As close as they were, they were distant, each displaying a New Yorker’s ability to be an island in a crashing tide of people. Pedestrians flowed past them in both directions, avoiding a man pushing religious flyers and the tiny dog at his feet.

The vitality of the city had a frenetic pulse that made time seem to move faster here than anywhere else. It was such a contrast to the lazy sensuality of Southern California, where my dad lived and I’d gone to school. New York was a dominatrix on the prowl, cracking a mean whip and tantalizing with every vice.

My purse vibrated against my hip and I reached into it for my phone. A quick glance at the screen told me it was my dad. Saturdays were our weekly catch-up days and I always looked forward to our chats, but I was almost inclined to let the call go to voice mail until I was in a better frame of mind. I was too aggravated with my mom, and my dad had already been overly concerned about me since he’d left New York after his last visit.

He’d been with me when the detectives had come to my apartment
to tell me Nathan was in New York. They’d dropped that bomb before they revealed that Nathan had been murdered, and I hadn’t been able to hide my fear at the thought of him being so close. My dad had been after me about my violent reaction ever since.

“Hey,” I answered, mostly because I didn’t want to be at odds with both my parents at the same time. “How are you?”

“Missing you,” he replied in the deep, confident voice I loved. My dad was the most perfect man I knew—darkly handsome, self-assured, smart, and rock solid. “How ’bout you?”

“I can’t complain too much.”

“Okay, complain just a little. I’m all ears.”

I laughed softly. “Mom’s just driving me a little batty.”

“What’d she do now?” he asked, with a note of warm indulgence in his voice.

“She’s been sticking her nose in my business.”

“Ah. Sometimes we parents do that when we’re worried about our babies.”

“
You’ve
never done that,” I pointed out.