Entwined with You: A Crossfire Novel (Crossfire Book 3) (5 page)

I
walked back to my place, no longer caring if I wilted since I was going to get messy at the gym anyway. When the elevator in my apartment building let me out on my floor, I found my gaze drifting to the door next to mine. My fingers toyed with the key Gideon had given me. The idea of letting myself in to check out his apartment was intriguing. Would it be similar to his Fifth Avenue place? Or totally different?

Gideon’s penthouse was stunning, with prewar architecture and old-world charm. It was a space that exuded affluence, while still remaining warm and inviting. I could as easily picture children in the space as I could foreign dignitaries.

What would his temporary digs be like? Scarce furniture, nonexistent art, and a bare kitchen? How settled in was he?

Pausing outside my apartment, I stared at his door and debated with myself. In the end, I resisted the temptation. I wanted him to walk me inside.

I stepped into my living room to the sound of female laughter. I wasn’t surprised to find a long-legged blonde curled up next to Cary on my white couch, her hand in his lap, stroking him through his sweats. He was still shirtless, his arm tossed around Tatiana Cherlin’s shoulders, his fingers idly stroking her biceps.

“Hey, baby girl,” he greeted me with a grin. “How was work?”

“Same old. Hi, Tatiana.”

Her reply was a chin jerk. She was striking, which was to be expected since she was a model. Looks aside, I hadn’t really liked her all that much the first few times I met her, and I still didn’t. But looking at Cary, I had to admit she might be good for him for now.

His bruises were gone, but he was still recovering from a brutal beating, an ambush by Nathan that had set in motion the events separating me from Gideon now.

“I’m going to change and head out to the gym,” I said, moving toward the hallway.

Behind
me, I heard Cary tell Tatiana, “Hang on a sec, I’ve got to talk to my girl.”

I entered my room and tossed my purse on my bed. I was digging in my dresser when Cary came to lounge in my doorway. “How are you feeling?” I asked him.

“Better.” His green eyes glittered wickedly. “How ’bout you?”

“Better.”

He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Is that thanks to whoever was knocking boots with you last night?”

Closing the drawer with my hip, I shot back, “Seriously? I can’t hear you in your room. How come you can hear me in mine?”

He tapped his temple. “Sex radar. I has it.”

“What does that mean? That I don’t have sex radar?”

“More like Cross blew your circuits during one of his sexathons. Still can’t get over that man’s stamina. Wish he’d swing my way and wear
me
out.”

I threw my sports bra at him.

He caught it deftly, laughing. “So? Who was it?”

I bit my lip, not wanting to lie to the one person who always gave it to me straight, even when it hurt. But I had to. “A guy who works in the Crossfire.”

His smile fading, Cary stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “And you just up and decided to bring him home and fuck his brains out all night? I thought you went to your Krav Maga class.”

“I did. He lives near here and I ran into him after class. One thing led to another …”

“Should I be worried?” he asked quietly, studying my face as he handed my sports bra back to me. “You haven’t had a random screw in a long time.”

“It’s not like that.” I forced myself to hold Cary’s gaze, knowing that if I didn’t, he’d never believe me. “I’m … seeing him. We’re having dinner tonight.”

“Am
I going to meet him?”

“Sure. Not today, though. I’m going to his place.”

His lips pursed. “You’re not telling me something. Spit it out.”

I sidestepped the question. “I saw you kissing Trey in the kitchen this morning.”

“Okay.”

“Things going good with you two?”

“Can’t complain.”

Yikes. When Cary was on to something, he wouldn’t let it go. I sidestepped again.

“I talked to Brett today,” I said as casually as possible, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “He called me at work. And no, he wasn’t the guy from last night.”

His brows rose. “What’d he want?”

Kicking off my shoes, I headed to the bathroom to wash off what was left of my makeup. “He’s coming back to New York for the debut of a music video for ‘Golden.’ He asked me to go with him.”

“Eva—” he began, in that low warning tone parents save for bratty children.

“I want you to come with.”

That set him back a bit. “As a chaperone? Don’t you trust yourself?”

I looked at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m not getting back together with him, Cary. Not that we were ever really together to begin with, so stop worrying about that. I want you there because I think you’ll have fun and I don’t want to lead Brett on. He agreed we’d go as friends, but I think the concept needs to be drummed into him, just to be safe. And fair.”

“You should’ve said no.”

“I tried.”

“No is no, baby girl. Not that difficult.”

“Shut up!” I scrubbed at one eye with a makeup remover towelette.
“It’s bad enough I got guilted into going! You thought it’d be funny for me to attend that concert without knowing who I’d see there. I don’t need shit from you.”

Because I was sure to get enough of that from Gideon …

Cary scowled. “What the hell do you have to feel guilty for?”

“Brett got his ass kicked because of me!”

“Nooo, he got an ass-kicking because he kissed a beautiful girl without thinking about the consequences. He should’ve expected you to be taken. And what burrowed up your anal cavity and rotted?”

“I don’t need a lecture about Brett, okay?” What I needed was Cary’s take on my relationship with Gideon and the concerns I had, but I couldn’t reach out to my best friend. That made everything going wrong in my life even more unsettling. I felt totally alone and adrift. “I’ve told you, I’m not taking that road again.”

“Glad to hear it.”

I told him what I could of the truth, because I knew he wouldn’t judge. “I’m still in love with Gideon.”

“Of course you are,” he agreed simply. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure your breakup is eating at him, too.”

I hugged him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you.”

He snorted. “I’m not saying you should wait for him. Whatever Cross’s deal is doesn’t matter—he snoozes, he loses. But I don’t think you’re ready to jump into some other dude’s bed. You can’t do casual sex, Eva. It means something to you; that’s why you get so fucked up when you just give it away.”

“It never works,” I agreed, stepping away to finish cleaning my face. “Will you go with me to the video premiere?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Want to bring Trey or Tatiana?”

Shaking
his head, he turned to the mirror and arranged his hair with practiced sweeps of his hands. “Then it’d be like a double date. Better if I’m the third wheel. More impact.”

I watched his reflection, my mouth curving in a soft smile. “I love you.”

He blew me a kiss. “Then take care of yourself, baby girl. That’s all I need.”

M
Y
favorite housewarming gift was Waterford martini glasses. To me, it was just the right blend of luxury, fun, and usefulness. I’d given a set to a college friend who had no idea what Waterford crystal was but loved appletinis, and I’d given a set to my mother, who didn’t drink martinis but loved Waterford. It was a gift I’d even feel comfortable giving to Gideon Cross, a man who had more money than was comprehensible.

But stemware wasn’t what I clutched in my hands as I knocked on his door.

Nervous, I shifted on my feet and ran a hand down my hip to smooth my dress. I’d dolled myself up after getting back from the gym, taking the time to really work my New Eva hairstyle and smoky eye shadow. My pale pink lipstick was smudgeproof and I wore a little black dress that was a halter with a low draping neckline and an even lower back.

The short dress showed a lot of leg, which I accentuated with peep-toe Jimmy Choos. I wore the diamond hoops I’d chosen for our first date and the ring he’d given me, a striking piece that had interlacing gold ropes hugged by diamond Xs—the Xs representing Gideon holding on to the various threads of me.

The door opened and I swayed a little on my feet, struck by the gorgeous, sexy-as-sin man who greeted me. Gideon must have been feeling sentimental, too. He had on the same black sweater he’d worn to
the nightclub where we’d first really hung out together. It looked amazing on him—the perfect blend of casual and elegant sexiness. Paired with graphite gray dress slacks and bare feet, the effect on me was pure, white-hot desire.

“Christ,” he growled. “You look amazing. Next time warn me before I open the door.”

I smiled. “Hello, Dark and Dangerous.”

G
IDEON’S MOUTH CURVED
in a devastating grin as he held his hand out to me. When my fingers touched his palm, he caught me and drew me inside, pulling me close to place his lips softly over mine. The door shut behind me and he reached past me to lock it, shutting the world out.

My hand clenched around a fistful of his sweater. “You’re wearing my favorite sweater.”

“I know.” Abruptly, he sank into a graceful crouch, taking my hand that he held and placing it on his shoulder. “Let’s make you comfortable, angel. You won’t need these heels until you’re ready for me to fuck you.”

My core clenched with anticipation. “What if I’m ready now?”

“You’re not. You’ll know when the time comes.”

As Gideon removed my shoes, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Will I? How?”

He glanced up at me with those intensely blue eyes. He was nearly
on his knees, taking my shoes off, yet he was undeniably in command of himself and of me. “I’ll be pushing my cock inside you.”

I shifted on my feet for a different reason.
Yes, please …

Straightening, he once again loomed over me. His fingertips drifted across my cheek. “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh.” I mentally shook off the sexual spell he had me under. “Housewarming gift.”

I looked around. The space was a mirror image of my own. The apartment was lovely and comfortably inviting. I’d partly expected a semi-lived-in space, mostly bare with only the essentials. Instead, it was very much a home. One that was lit only by candlelight, which cast a warm golden glow on furniture I recognized because it was Gideon’s
and
mine.

Stunned, I barely noticed when he took the gift bag and my purse from my fingers. Barefoot, I skirted him, seeing my coffee and end tables placed around his sofa and side chairs; my entertainment center holding his knickknacks and framed photos of the two of us together; my drapes with his unlit floor and table lamps.

On the wall, where my flat-screen TV would be hanging, was a massive photo of me blowing him a kiss, a much larger version of the photo I’d given him that he kept on his desk in his Crossfire office.

I turned slowly, trying to take it all in. He’d shocked me like this once before, when he’d re-created my bedroom in his penthouse, giving me a familiar place to run when things got too intense.

“When did you move in here?” I loved it. The mix of my modern traditional with his old-world elegance was oddly perfect. He’d blended just the right pieces to create a space that was …
us
.

“The week Cary was in the hospital.”

I glanced at him. “Are you serious?”

That was when Gideon had begun pulling away from me, cutting me off. He’d started hanging out with Corinne again and become difficult to reach.

Getting
this place set up must have kept him busy, too.

“I needed to be near you,” he said absently, looking into the bag. “I had to be sure I could get to you quickly. Before Nathan could.”

Shock rippled through me. At a time when I’d felt Gideon drifting further and further away from me, he’d been physically close. Watching over me. “When I called you from the hospital”—I swallowed past a dry lump—“you had someone with you …”

“Raúl. He was coordinating the move-in. I had to get it done before you and Cary came home.” He looked up at me. “Towels, angel?” he asked, with more than a hint of amusement.

He pulled the white hand towels embroidered with
CROSSTRAINER
out of the bag. I’d picked them up at the gym. At the time, I’d been envisioning him having a bare bones bachelor pad. Now, they were ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” I said, still reeling from his disclosure about the apartment. “I had a different idea of what this place looked like.”

He pulled the towels away when I reached for them. “Your gifts are always thoughtful. Tell me what you were thinking about when you bought these.”

“I was thinking about making you think about me.”

“Every minute of every day,” he murmured.

“Let me clarify: Me—all hot and sweaty and desperate for you.”

“Umm … a fantasy I indulge in often.”

Abruptly, the memory of Gideon pleasuring himself in my shower punched into my mind. There really were no words for how fucking amazing that sight was. “Do you think about me when you get yourself off?”

“I don’t masturbate.”

“What? Come on. Every guy does.”

Gideon caught my hand and laced our fingers, then drew me toward the kitchen from which the most heavenly smell was emanating. “Let’s talk over wine.”

“Are
you trying to ply me with alcohol?”

“No.” He released me and set the bag of towels on the counter. “I know the way to your heart is with food.”

I slid onto a bar stool just like the ones in my apartment, touched by his unique way of making me feel at home. “The way to my heart? Or into my pants?”

He smiled as he poured a glass of red wine from a bottle he’d previously opened to let breathe. “You’re not wearing pants.”

“Not wearing any panties, either.”

“Careful, Eva.” Gideon shot me a stern look. “Or you’ll derail my attempt to seduce you properly before I ride you on every flat surface in this apartment.”

My mouth went dry. The look in his eyes when he brought my glass over made me feel flushed and light-headed.

“Before you,” he murmured, with his lips to the edge of his glass, “I stroked off every time I took a shower. It was as much a part of my ritual as washing my hair.”

That
I believed. Gideon was a very sexual man. When we were together, he’d fuck me before bed, first thing in the morning, and sometimes fit in a quickie during the course of the day.

“Since you, only once,” he continued. “You were there with me.”

I paused with my glass halfway to my mouth. “Really?”

“Really.”

I took a drink, gathering my thoughts. “Why did you stop? The last few weeks … We went a long time without.”

A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “I don’t have a drop to waste if I’m going to keep up with you.”

I set the wineglass down and pushed at his shoulder. “You’re always making me sound like a nymphomaniac!”

“You like sex, angel,” he purred. “Nothing wrong with that. You’re greedy and insatiable, and I love it. I love knowing that once I get inside you, you’re going to suck me dry. Then you’ll want to do it again.”

I
felt my face heat. “For your information, I didn’t get off even once while we were apart. Never even got the urge because we weren’t together.”

He leaned into the counter, resting one elbow on the cool black granite. “Hmm.”

“I like fucking you because you’re
you
, not because I’m a cock-hungry slut. If you don’t like it, grow a gut or stop showering or
something
.” I slid off the stool. “Or just say no, Gideon.”

I marched into the living room, trying to get away from the unsettled feeling I’d had all day.

Gideon’s arms came around me from behind, halting me midstep. “Stop,” he said, with the familiar authoritative bite that always turned me on.

I tried to squirm free.

“Now, Eva.”

I gave up, my hands falling to my sides to clench my dress.

“Explain what the fuck just happened,” he said calmly.

My head bowed and I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t know what to say. A moment of silence later, he moved, swinging me up into the cradle of his arms and carrying me to the couch. He sat and arranged me on his lap. I snuggled into him.

His chin came to rest on the crown of my head. “You want to pick a fight, angel?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“Good. Me neither.” His hands stroked up and down my back. “So let’s talk instead.”

I pressed my nose into his throat. “I love you.”

“I know.” He tilted his head back, giving me room to nestle.

“I’m not a sex addict.”

“I don’t see why it’d be a problem if you were. God knows making love with you is my favorite thing to do. In fact, if you ever wanted me
to take care of you more often, I’d go so far as to schedule sex with you into my day.”

“Oh my God!” I nipped him with my teeth, and he laughed softly.

Gideon wrapped my hair around his fist and tugged my head back. His gaze on my face was soft and serious. “You’re not upset about our incredible sex life. It’s something else.”

Sighing, I admitted, “I don’t know what it is. I’m just …
off
.”

Adjusting me in his lap, Gideon snuggled me closer, pulling me into his warmth. We fit so perfectly together, my curves aligning with his sculpted lines. “Do you like the apartment?”

“I love it.”

“Good.” His voice was laced with satisfaction. “Obviously, it’s an example—taken to the extreme.”

My heart rate jumped a little. “Of what our place could look like?”

“We’ll start fresh, of course. Everything new.”

I was moved by his pronouncement. Still, I had to say, “It was so risky doing this. Moving in here, getting in and out of the building. It makes me nervous just thinking about it.”

“On paper, someone lives here. So of course, he’d move furniture in, and come and go. He enters through the garage, just like all the other tenants with cars. When I’m being him, I dress a little differently, take the stairs, and check the security feeds so I know if I’m going to run into anyone before it happens.”

The amount of planning involved was mindboggling to me, but then he’d had practice getting to Nathan without a trace. “All this trouble and expense. For me. I can’t— I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll plan on moving in with me.”

I savored the surge of pleasure his words brought me. “Do you have a time frame in mind for this fresh start?”

“As soon as we can get away with it.” His hand on my thigh squeezed gently.

I
set my hand over his. There was so much standing in the way of us living together: the lingering trauma of our pasts; my dad, who disliked rich guys and thought Gideon was a cheater; and me, because I liked my apartment and believed that striking out in a new city meant doing as much as I could on my own.

I jumped to the biggest issue for me, though. “What about Cary?”

“The penthouse has an attached guest apartment.”

Pulling back quickly, I stared at him. “You’d do that for Cary?”

“No, I’d do it for you.”

“Gideon, I …” My words trailed off because there were no words. I was awed. Something inside me shifted a little.

“So you’re not upset about the apartment,” he said. “Something else is on your mind.”

I decided to save Brett for last. “I’ve got a girls’ night out on Saturday.”

He stilled. Maybe someone who didn’t know him as well as I did wouldn’t catch that subtle, sharp alertness, but I caught it. “Girls’ night doing what, exactly?”

“Dancing. Drinking. The usual.”

“Is it a manhunt?”

“No.” I licked my dry lips, mesmerized by the change in him. He’d gone from intimately playful to intensely focused. “We’re all attached. At least I think we all are. I’m not sure about Megumi’s roommate, but Megumi’s got a man and you know Shawna’s got her chef.”

He was suddenly all business when he said, “I’ll make the arrangements—car, driver, and security. If you stick with a circuit of my clubs, your security will stay in the car. You want to branch out, he’s going in with you.”

Blinking in surprise, I said, “Okay.”

From the kitchen, the oven timer began beeping.

Gideon went from sitting to standing, with me in his arms, in one powerfully graceful surge. My eyes widened. My blood hummed
through my veins. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him carry me to the kitchen. “I love how strong you are.”

“You’re easy to impress.” Settling me on a bar stool, he gave me a lingering kiss before heading to the oven.

“You cooked?” I wasn’t sure why the thought surprised me, but it did.

“No. Arnoldo had ready-to-cook lasagna and a salad delivered.”

“Sounds awesome.” I knew from having eaten in celebrity chef Arnoldo Ricci’s restaurant that the food would be killer.

Grabbing my glass, I wasted the wonderful wine by gulping it down for courage, thinking it was time to tell him what he wouldn’t want to hear. I took the plunge and said, “Brett called me at work today.”

For a minute or two, I didn’t think Gideon heard me. He slid on a pot holder, opened the oven, and pulled out the lasagna without looking my way. It wasn’t until he set the pan on the stovetop and glanced at me that I knew for certain he hadn’t missed a word.

He tossed the glove onto the counter, grabbed the wine bottle, and came directly to me. Calmly, he took my wineglass and refilled it before he spoke. “I expect he wants to see you when he’s in New York next week.”

It took me the space of a breath to respond. “You knew he was coming back!” I accused.

“Of course I knew.”

Whether that was because Brett’s band was signed to Vidal Records or because Gideon was keeping an eye on him, I didn’t know. Both reasons were entirely plausible.

“Did you agree to meet up?” His voice was smooth and soft. Dangerously so.

Ignoring the fluttering of nerves in my belly, I held his gaze. “Yes, for the reveal of the new Six-Ninths music video. Cary’s going with me.”