THE FIRST THING I saw when I woke up Sunday morning was an amber bottle labeled HANGOVER CURE
in an old-fashioned font. A raffia bow adorned the neck and a cork stopper kept the stomach-turning
contents safe. The “cure” worked, as I’d learned the last time Gideon had given me the stuff, but the
sight of it reminded me of how much alcohol I’d consumed the night before.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I groaned and buried my head in the pillow, willing myself back to sleep.
The bed shifted. Warm, firm lips drifted down my bare spine. “Good morning, angel mine.”
“You sound ridiculously pleased with yourself,” I muttered.
“Pleased with you, actually.”
“Fiend.”
“I was referring to your crisis management suggestions, but of course the sex was phenomenal, as
always.” His hand slid beneath the sheet that was pooled around my waist and he squeezed my ass.
I lifted my head and found him propped against the headboard beside me with his laptop on his
thighs. He looked mouthwatering, as usual, completely relaxed in drawstring lounging pants. I was
certain I was looking far less attractive. I’d taken the limo home with the girls, then met up with
Gideon at his apartment. It was nearly dawn before I’d finished with him and I’d been so tired, I
crashed with hair still wet from a hasty shower.
A tingle of pleasure moved through me at finding him next to me. He’d slept in the guest room, and
he had an office to work in. The fact that he chose to work in the bed I slept in meant he’d just wanted
to be near me, even while I was unconscious.
I turned my head to look at the bedside clock, but my gaze snagged on my wrist instead.
“Gideon …” The watch that had been placed on my arm while I slept enchanted me. The Art Deco–
inspired timepiece sparkled with hundreds of tiny diamonds. The band was a creamy satin and the
mother-of-pearl face was branded with both Patek Philippe and Tiffany & Co. “It’s gorgeous.”
“There are only twenty-five of those in the world, which isn’t nearly as unique as you are, but then,
what is?” He smiled down at me.
“I love it.” I pushed up onto my knees. “I love you.”
He shoved his laptop aside in time for me to straddle him and hug him tightly.
“Thank you,” I murmured, touched by his thoughtfulness. He would’ve gone out for it while I was at
my mother’s or maybe just after I left with the girls.
“Umm. Tell me how to earn one of these naked hugs every day.”
“Just be you, ace.” I rubbed my cheek against his. “You’re all I need.”
I slid out of bed and padded over to the bathroom with the small amber bottle in my hand. I guzzled
the contents down with a shudder, brushed my teeth and hair, and then washed my face. I pulled on a
robe and returned to the bedroom, finding Gideon gone and his laptop lying open in the middle of the
bed.
I passed him in his office, seeing him standing with his feet planted wide and his arms crossed,
facing the window. The city stretched out in front of him. Not the skyline view he had in his Crossfire
office or his penthouse, but a closer vantage. More grounded and immediate. The connection with the
city more intimate.
“I don’t share your concern,” he said briskly into his earpiece mic. “I’m aware of the risk … Stop
talking. The subject isn’t open to debate. Draw up the agreement as specified.”
Recognizing that all-business note of steel in his voice, I kept walking. I still wasn’t sure exactly
what was in the bottle, but I suspected it was vitamins and liquor of some sort. Hair of the dog. It was
warming my belly and making me feel lethargic, so I went to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee.
Supplied with caffeine, I plopped down on the couch and checked my smartphone for messages. I
frowned when I saw that I’d missed three calls from my dad, all before eight in the morning in
California. I also noted a dozen missed calls from my mom, but I figured Monday was soon enough to
deal with her again. And there was a text from Cary that shouted, CALL ME!
I called my dad back first, trying to swallow a quick drink of coffee before he answered.
“Eva.”
The anxious way my dad said my name told me something was wrong. I sat up straighter. “Dad …
Is everything all right?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Nathan Barker?” His voice was hoarse and filled with pain. Goose
bumps swept across my skin.
Oh, fuck. He knew. My hand shook so badly, I spilled hot coffee on my hand and thigh. I didn’t
even feel it; I was so panicked by my father’s anguish. “Dad, I—”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Or Monica. My God … She should’ve said something.
Should’ve told me.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I had the right to know!”
Sorrow spread through my chest like acid. My dad—a man whose self-control rivaled Gideon’s—
sounded like he was crying.
I set my mug on the coffee table, my breathing fast and shallow. Nathan’s sealed juvenile records
had broken open upon his death, exposing the horror of my past to anyone who had the knowledge and
means to find it. As a cop, my dad had those means.
“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” I told him, stunned, but trying to hold it together for his sake.
My smartphone beeped with an incoming call, but I ignored it. “Before or after.”
“I could’ve been there for you. I could’ve taken care of you.”
“Daddy, you did. Putting me together with Dr. Travis changed my life. I didn’t really start dealing
with anything until then. I can’t tell you how much that helped.”
He groaned, and it was a low sound of torment. “I should’ve fought your mother for you. You
should’ve been with me.”
“Oh, God.” My stomach cramped. “You can’t blame Mom. She didn’t know what was happening
for a long time. And when she did find out, she did everything—”
“She didn’t tell me!” he shouted, making me jump. “She should’ve fucking told me. And how could
she not know? There must’ve been signs … How could she not see them? Jesus. I saw them when you
came to California.”
I sobbed, unable to contain my anguish. “I begged her not to tell you. I made her promise.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make, Eva. You were a child. She knew better.”
“I’m sorry!” I cried. The insistent, relentless beeping of an incoming call pushed me over the edge.
“I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want Nathan to hurt anyone else I loved.”
“I’m coming to see you,” he said, with a sudden burst of calm. “I’m getting the next flight out. I’ll
call you when I land.”
“Dad—”
“I love you, sweetheart. You’re everything.”
He hung up. Shattered, I sat there in a daze. I knew the knowledge of what had been done to me
would eat my father alive, but I didn’t know how to combat that darkness.
My phone started vibrating in my hand and I just stared down at the screen, seeing my mother’s
name and unable to think of what to do.
Standing on unsteady feet, I dropped my cell on the low table as if it had burned me. I couldn’t talk
to her then. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted Gideon.
I stumbled down the hallway, my shoulder sliding along the wall. I heard Gideon’s voice as I
neared his office and my tears came faster, my steps quickening.
“I appreciate that you thought of me, but no,” he said in a low, firm voice that was different from
the one I’d heard him using before. It was gentler, more intimate. “Of course we’re friends. You know
why … I can’t give you what you want from me.”
I rounded the corner into his office and saw him at his desk, his head down as he listened.
“Stop,” he said icily. “This isn’t the tack you want to take with me, Corinne.”
“Gideon,” I whispered, my hand gripping the doorjamb with white-knuckled force.
He glanced up, then straightened abruptly, surging to his feet. The scowl on his face fled.
“I have to go,” he said, pulling the earpiece from his ear and dropping it on the desk as he rounded
it. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
He caught me as I rushed into him, needing him. Relief flooded me as he pulled me close and held
me tight.
“My dad found out.” I pressed my face to his chest, my mind filled with echoes of my father’s pain.
“He knows.”
Gideon swung me up in his arms, cradling me. His phone started ringing. Cursing under his breath,
he walked out of the room.
In the hallway, I could hear my phone rattling on the coffee table. The irritating sound of two
phones going off simultaneously ratcheted up my anxiety.
“Let me know if you need to get that,” he said.
“It’s my mom. I’m sure my dad’s called her already, and he’s so angry. God … Gideon. He’s
devastated.”
“I understand how he feels.”
He carried me into the guest bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him. Laying me on the
bed, he grabbed the remote off the nightstand and turned on the television, lowering the volume to a
level that drowned out all other sound but my hiccupping sobs. Then he lay down beside me and
hugged me, his hands rubbing up and down my back. I cried until my eyes felt raw and I had nothing
left.
“Tell me what to do,” he said when I quieted.
“He’s coming here. To New York.” My stomach knotted at the thought. “He’s trying to fly out
today, I think.”
“When you find out, I’ll go with you to pick him up.”
“You can’t.”
“The hell I can’t,” he said without heat.
I offered my mouth and sighed when he kissed me. “I should really go alone. He’s hurt. He won’t
want anyone else to see him that way.”
Gideon nodded. “Take my car.”
“Which one?”
“Your new neighbor’s DB9.”
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
I didn’t doubt that. Whatever it was, the car would be sleek, fast, and dangerous—just like its
owner.
“I’m scared,” I murmured, my legs tangling even tighter with his. He was so strong and solid. I
wanted to hang on to him and never let go.
His fingers sifted through my hair. “Of what?”
“Things are already fucked up between my mom and me. If my parents have a falling-out, I don’t
want to get stuck in the middle. I know they wouldn’t handle it well—especially my mom. They’re
crazy in love with each other.”
“I hadn’t realized that.”
“You didn’t see them together. Major sizzle,” I explained, remembering that Gideon and I had been
separated when I learned the sexual chemistry between my parents was still white-hot. “And my dad
confessed to still being in love with her. Makes me sad to think about it.”
“Because they’re not together?”
“Yes, but not because I want one big happy family,” I qualified. “I just hate the thought of going
through life without the person you’re in love with. When I lost you—”
“You’ve never lost me.”
“It was like part of me died. Going through a whole lifetime like that …”
“Would be hell.” Gideon ran his fingertips across my cheek and I saw the bleakness in his eyes, the
lingering specter of Nathan haunting him. “Let me handle Monica.”
I blinked at him. “How?”
His lips curled on one side. “I’ll call her and ask how you’re dealing with everything and how
you’re doing. Start the process of publicly working my way back to you.”
“She knows I told you everything. She might break down on you.”
“Better me than you.”
That was almost enough to make me smile. “Thank you.”
“I’ll distract her and get her thinking about something else.” He reached for my hand and touched
my ring.
Wedding bells. He didn’t say it, but I got the message. And of course that was what my mother
would think. A man in Gideon’s position didn’t come back to a woman through her mother—
especially one like Monica Stanton—unless his “intentions” were serious.
That was an issue we’d tackle another day.
FOR the next hour, Gideon pretended like he wasn’t hovering. He stayed close, following me from
room to room on some pretext or another. When my stomach growled, he tugged me immediately into
the kitchen, pulling together a plate of sandwiches, potato chips, and prepared macaroni salad.
We ate at the island, and I let the comfort of his attentiveness soothe my nerves. As rough as things
were, he was there for me to lean on. It made a lot of the troubles we were facing seem surmountable.
What couldn’t we accomplish, as long as we stayed together?
“What did Corinne want?” I asked. “Besides you.”
His features hardened. “I don’t want to talk about Corinne.”
There was an edge to his voice that niggled at me. “Is everything all right?”
“What did I just say?”
“Something lame that I’m choosing to ignore.”
He made an exasperated noise, but relented. “She’s upset.”
“Screaming upset? Or crying upset?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. There’s a difference between being mad at a guy and being a teary mess over him. For
example: Deanna is mad and can plot your destruction; I was a teary mess and could barely crawl out
of bed every day.”
“God. Eva.” He reached over and set his hand over mine. “I’m sorry.”
“Cut it out with the apologies, already! You’ll make it up to me having to deal with my mother. So
is Corinne mad or teary?”
“She was crying.” Gideon winced. “Christ. She lost it.”
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with that. Don’t let her guilt-trip you, though.”
“I used her,” he said quietly, “to protect you.”
I set my sandwich down and narrowed my gaze at him. “Did you or did you not tell her that all you
could offer was friendship?”
“You know I did. But I also deliberately fostered the impression that we might be more, for the
sake of the press and the police. I sent her mixed signals. That’s what I feel guilty about.”
“Well, stop. That bitch tried to make me think you’d banged her”—I wiggled two fingers—“twice.
And the first time she did, it hurt so bad I’m still getting over it. Plus she’s married, for fuck’s sake.
She’s got no business making moves on my man when she’s got her own.”
“Back up to the part about banging her. What are you talking about?”
I explained the incidents—the lipstick-on-the-cuff disaster at the Crossfire and my impromptu visit
to Corinne’s apartment, when she’d tried to play it like she’d just got done screwing him.
“Well, that changes things considerably,” he said. “There’s nothing more she and I need to say to
each other.”
“Thank you.”
He reached over to tuck my hair behind my ear. “We’ll eventually be on the other side of all this.”
“Whatever will we do with ourselves then?” I muttered.
“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something.”
“Sex, right?” I shook my head. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Don’t forget work—together.”
“Oh my God. You don’t quit.”
He crunched on a chip and swallowed. “I want you to see the revamped Crossroads and Cross
Industries websites when we’re done with lunch.”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Really? That was fast. I’m impressed.”
“Let’s have you look at them first before you decide that.”
GIDEON knew me well. Work was my escape and he put me to it. He set me up with his laptop in the
living room, made my phone stop ringing, then went into his office to call my mother.
For the first few minutes after he’d left me alone, I listened to the low murmur of his voice and
tried to focus on the websites he’d pulled up for me, but it was no use. I was too scattered to pay
attention. I ended up calling Cary instead.
“Where the fuck are you?” he barked by way of greeting.
“I know it’s been crazy,” I said quickly, having no doubt my mother and father would’ve been
calling the apartment Cary and I shared when I didn’t answer my smartphone. “I’m sorry.”
The background noise on Cary’s end told me he was somewhere out on the streets.
“Mind telling me what’s going on? Everyone’s calling me—your parents, Stanton, Clancy. They’re
all looking for you and you’re not answering your cell. I’ve been freaking out wondering what
happened to you!”
Crap. I closed my eyes. “My dad found out about Nathan.”
He was silent, the sounds of distant traffic and honking the only indication he was still on the line.
Then, “Holy shit. Oh, baby girl. That’s bad.”
The compassion in his voice made my throat too tight to speak. I didn’t want to cry any more.
The background noise suddenly muted, as if he’d stepped into someplace quiet. “How is he?” Cary
asked.
“He’s torn up. God, Cary, it was awful. I think he was crying. And he’s furious with Mom. That’s
probably why she’s calling so much.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“He’s flying out to New York. I don’t know when, but he said he’d be calling when he landed.”
“He’s flying out now? Like today?”
“I think so,” I said miserably. “I’m not sure how he’s managing to get time off work again so soon.”
“I’ll fix up the guest room when I get home, if you haven’t done it already.”
“I’ll take care of it. Where are you?”
“Catching lunch and a matinee with Tatiana. I had to get out for a while.”
“I’m so sorry you’ve been fielding my calls.”
“Not a big deal,” he dismissed, in his usual Cary way. “I was more worried than anything. You
haven’t been around much lately. I don’t know what you’re doing or who you’re doing. You’re not
acting like yourself.”
The note of accusation in his tone deepened my remorse, but there was nothing I could share. “I’m
sorry.”
He waited, as if for an explanation, then said something under his breath. “I’ll be home in a couple
hours.”
“All right. See you then.”
I hung up, then called my stepfather.
“Eva.”
“Hi, Richard.” I dug right in. “Did my dad call Mom?”
“Just a moment.” There was silence on the phone for a minute or two, then I heard a door shut. “He
did call, yes. It was … unpleasant for your mother. This weekend has been very hard on her. She’s
not well, and I’m concerned.”
“This is hard on all of us,” I said. “I wanted to let you know that my dad is coming back to New
York and I’ll need to spend some quiet time with him.”
“You need to talk to Victor about being a little more understanding of what your mother went
through. She was on her own, with a traumatized child.”
“You need to understand that we’ve got to give him time to come to grips with this,” I shot back.
My tone was harsher than I intended, but reflective of my feelings. I was not going to be forced to take
sides between my parents. “And I need you to deal with Mom and get her to stop calling me and Cary
nonstop. Talk to Dr. Petersen if you have to,” I suggested, referring to my mother’s therapist.
“Monica’s on the phone now. I’ll discuss it with her when she’s free.”
“Don’t just discuss it. Do something about it. Hide the phones somewhere if that’s what it takes.”
“That’s extreme. And unnecessary.”
“Not if she doesn’t quit!” My fingers drummed on the coffee table. “You and me, we’re both guilty
of tiptoeing around Mom—Oh no, don’t upset Monica!—because we’d rather just give in than deal
with her meltdowns. But that’s emotional extortion, Richard, and I’m done paying out.”
He was silent, then, “You’re under a lot of strain right now. And—”
“You think?” In my head I was screaming. “Tell Mom I love her and I’ll call when I can. Which
won’t be today.”
“Clancy and I are available if you need anything,” he said stiffly.
“Thank you, Richard. I appreciate that.”
I hung up and fought the urge to throw the phone at the wall.
I’D managed to calm down enough to go over the Crossroads website before Gideon reappeared from
his office. He looked wiped and a bit dazed, which was to be expected, considering. Dealing with my
mom when she was upset was a challenge for anyone, and Gideon didn’t have much experience to fall
back on.
“I warned you,” I said.
He lifted his arms over his head and stretched. “She’ll be all right. I think she’s tougher than she
lets on.”
“She was stoked to hear from you, wasn’t she?”
He smirked.
I rolled my eyes. “She thinks I need a rich man to take care of me and keep me safe.”
“You’ve got one.”
“I’m going to assume you meant that in a noncaveman way.” I stood. “I have to head out and get
ready for my dad’s visit. I’ll need to be home at night for however long he’s here, and it’s probably
not wise for you to sneak into my apartment. If he mistakes you for a burglar, it won’t be pretty.”
“It’s also disrespectful. I’ll use the time to be seen at the penthouse.”
“So we’ve got a plan.” I stood and scrubbed at my face before admiring my new watch. “At least
I’ve got a lovely way to count the minutes until we’re together again.”
He came to me, catching me by the nape. His thumb drew tantalizing circles on the back of my neck.
“I need to know you’re okay.”
I nodded. “I’m tired of Nathan running my life. I’m working toward that fresh start.”
I imagined a future in which my mom wasn’t a stalker, my dad was back on solid footing, Cary was
happy, Corinne was in another country far away, and Gideon and I weren’t ruled by our pasts.
And I was finally ready to fight for it.
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