Captivated By You (Crossfire, Book 4)
Captivated By You: Chapter 9

AS I LED Eva out of the Crossfire, Angus took one look at my face and his smile disappeared. He opened the rear door to the Bentley and stepped aside, watching me urge my wife into the backseat.

Our gazes met over her head as she slid into the back. I read the message in his faded blue eyes. Be gentle with her.

He didn’t know how hard it was for me to show as much restraint as I was managing. I could feel the vein pulsating in my temple, echoing the driving pulse beat that had my cock throbbing.

I’d nearly stopped the elevator halfway down to fuck Eva against the wall like an animal. The only things that deterred me were the security cameras and watchful guard eyes monitoring the feed.

I wanted to leash her. Sink my teeth into her shoulder as I nailed her. Dominate her. She was a tigress, clawing and hissing at everyone she felt had done me wrong, and I needed to pin her down. Make her submit.

“Goddamn it,” I bit out, rounding the back of the car to get in on the other side. Eva was a wild card. I couldn’t control her.

I folded into the seat and slammed the door shut, staring out the window because I was afraid of what I’d do if I looked at her. She was the air I breathed and at the moment, I couldn’t catch my breath.

She set her hand on my thigh. “Gideon …”

Grabbing that slender hand wearing my ring, I shoved it between my legs and thrust my aching dick into her palm. “Open your mouth again and that’s what I’m putting in it.”

She gasped.

Angus slid behind the wheel and started the car. I felt Eva’s gaze on the side of my face. Her hand pulled away and I nearly groaned at the loss of her touch. Then she shifted, curling into my side. Her other hand slid back between my legs, cupping my cock possessively. Her lips pressed a kiss against my jaw.

My arm went around her back. I took a deep breath, inhaling her scent.

The Bentley pulled away from the curb and we melded into midtown traffic.

IT wasn’t until we pulled over in front of the office building where Dr. Petersen kept his office that I remembered our appointment. I’d been counting the minutes until we got home and I could take Eva the way I needed to … fast … hard … furious.

She started sitting up when Angus got out of the car. I tightened my arm around her. “Not today,” I said tightly.

“Okay,” she whispered, kissing my jaw again.

Angus opened the door. She pulled away, then got out of the car anyway. She spun through the revolving doors and left me staring after her.

“Jesus.”

Ducking down, Angus peered in at me. “Couples therapy means the both of you.”

I glared at him. “Stop enjoying this.”

The smile in his eyes curved his lips into a broad grin. “She loves you, lad, whether you like it or naw.”

“Of course I like it,” I muttered, glancing over my shoulder to check the traffic before opening my door and stepping out. I rounded the trunk. “That doesn’t mean she’s not a loose cannon.”

Angus shut the door. A rare summer breeze ruffled the graying red hair that peeked out from beneath his chauffeur’s hat. “Sometimes you’ll lead, sometimes you’ll follow. Expect you’ll grumble about the following part for a while yet.”

I growled, exasperated. “She talked to Chris.”

His brows rose with surprise even as he nodded. “I saw him go in.”

“Why won’t she leave it the hell alone?” I stepped onto the sidewalk, tugging my vest into place and wishing I could straighten my thoughts as easily. “She can’t change the past.”

“It’s not the past she’s thinking of.” He set his hand briefly on my shoulder. “It’s the future.”

I found Eva pacing in Dr. Petersen’s office, her hands waving as she spoke. The good doctor sat in his customary chair, his attention on his tablet as he took notes.

“The whole situation makes me so mad,” she seethed. Then she caught sight of me standing in the doorway and paused midstride.

“Gideon.” A brilliant smile lit up her beautiful face.

There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to put that happy look on her. The fact that she smiled like that just because she saw me …

“Eva. Doctor.” I took a seat on the sofa. How much had she told him?

Dr. Petersen followed me with his gaze. “Hello, Gideon. I’m glad you could join us after all.”

I patted the cushion next to me and waited for Eva to sit.

“We’re making plans to move back into the penthouse on Fifth with Cary,” I said smoothly once she’d settled beside me, deflecting the conversation into territory I was more comfortable addressing. “I expect it will be a rocky transition for all of us.”

Eva gaped.

Dr. Petersen set his stylus down. “Eva was just telling me about a visit with your stepfather. I would like to hear more about that before we move on.”

I linked my fingers with Eva’s. “It’s not open for discussion.”

She stared at me. I turned my head to meet her gaze and my breath left me in a pained rush.

The new look on her face made me ache for a different reason altogether.

The session had barely started and already it couldn’t end soon enough for me.

I told Angus to take us home—to the penthouse.

It was obvious Eva was lost in her own thoughts by the surprise she displayed when the valet opened the door for her. We were in the subterranean garage beneath the building.

She glanced at me.

“I’ll explain,” I told her, as I took her elbow and led her to the elevator.

We rode up in silence. When the car doors opened into our private foyer, I felt her tense beneath my hand. We hadn’t been to the penthouse together in nearly a month. The last time we’d been in the foyer had been the night she confronted me about Nathan’s death.

I’d been afraid then, too. Terrified I had done something she couldn’t forgive me for.

We’d had many explosive moments here. The penthouse hadn’t seen as much joy and love between us as the secret apartment on the Upper West Side. But we would change that. One day, we would look back and this place would remind us of all the steps in our journey together, good and bad. I refused to envision anything else.

I opened the door, gesturing her in before me. She dropped her purse into an armchair and kicked off her shoes. I shrugged out of my jacket, hung it on the back of one of the bar stools in the kitchen, and then pulled a shiraz off the wine rack.

“You’re disappointed in me,” I called out, uncorking the wine.

Eva padded to the open archway and leaned against the tumbled stone. “No, not in you.”

Retrieving a decanter and two glasses, I considered my reply. It was difficult bargaining with my wife. In every other deal, I went in with the knowledge that I could take it or leave it. There was no agreement anywhere I couldn’t walk away from.

Except those that endangered my hold on Eva.

As I poured the wine from its bottle into the decanter, she joined me at the island.

Her hand came to rest on my shoulder. “We haven’t been together long, Gideon, and you’ve come so far already. I’m not going to push you to go farther so soon. These things take time.”

I let the decanted wine sit and turned to face her, pulling her close. She’d felt so far away the last hour or so and the distance had been killing me.

“Kiss me,” I murmured.

Tilting her head back, Eva lifted her mouth to me. I pressed my lips to hers but otherwise did nothing else, wanting her to be the one to reach out. Needing her to be.

The stroke of her tongue over the seam of my lips made me groan. The feel of her fingers sliding into the hair at my nape soothed me. There was an apology in the softness of her lips gliding across mine and love in her quiet moan of surrender.

I caught her up, lifting her feet from the floor, so relieved she still wanted me that I felt dizzy with it. “Eva … I’m sorry.”

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” She pulled back and touched my face, cupping it in both hands. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

The back of my throat burned. I lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her spread legs. Her skirt rose up, baring the ends of her garters. I wanted her. In every way.

My forehead touched hers. “You’re upset that I didn’t want to talk about Chris.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to avoid it so completely, that’s all.” She kissed my brow, her fingers brushing the hair from my face. “I should’ve considered the possibility, considering how angry you were when we left the Crossfire.”

“Not with you.”

“At Chris?”

“At the situation.” I exhaled roughly. “You’re expecting people to change and that doesn’t happen. In the meantime, you’re stirring up trouble at a time when we’ve got enough on our plates. I just want to have some peace with you, Eva. Days when we’re alone and happy and free of any bullshit.”

“And nights where you go to sleep in another bed? In another room?”

My eyes squeezed shut. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Not completely, but some of it, yeah. Gideon, I want to be with you. Waking and sleeping.”

“I understand, but—”

“That peace you’re looking for? You’re pretending you have it during the day and suffering without it at night. It’s tearing you up from the inside, and it’s shredding me watching it happen to you. I don’t want you to live like this forever. I don’t want us to live forever like this.”

I looked at her, my soul bared to those amazing steel-colored eyes that didn’t let me hide anything. There was so much love in the look she gave me. Love and worry, disappointment and hope. The pendant lamps over the island backlit her blond hair, reminding me of how precious she was. A gift I’d never expected.

“Eva … I am talking to Dr. Petersen about the nightmares.”

“But not about what’s causing them.”

“You’re assuming Hugh is the problem,” I said evenly, feeling the burn of hatred and humiliation in my gut. “We’ve been talking about my father instead.”

She pulled back. “Ace … I don’t know exactly what’s in your dreams, but I’ve seen you wake up in two different ways: ready to beat up someone or crying like your heart is breaking. When you come out swinging, the things you say make me damn near certain you’re fighting off Hugh.”

I sucked in a quick, deep breath. It infuriated me that my former therapist—and molester—could reach out from the grave and touch Eva through me.

“Listen.” She wrapped her legs around my hips. “I said I wasn’t going to push you and I meant it. If we were two years into our relationship, I’d put up a fuss, maybe. But it’s only been a few months, Gideon. The fact that you’re seeing someone and talking about your dad is enough for now.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. But there are things we can never discuss that are haunting you, too. Dr. Petersen is already working with a handicap because of that. The more you keep from him, the less he can help.”

Nathan. She didn’t have to say the name.

“I’m making an effort, Eva.”

“I know.” Her hands smoothed over my shoulders, then reached for the buttons of my vest. “Just tell me that you’re not hoping to avoid talking about it forever. Tell me you’re just working up to it.”

My heart rate sped up. I reached for her wrists, holding them firmly, anchoring myself to her. I felt cornered, trapped between her needs and my own, which seemed terribly divergent at that moment.

Her lips parted at the pressure of my grip, her breasts lifting with a quickened breath. A restraining touch, a heated look, the tone of my voice … Eva reacted to my unspoken demands as if she’d been trained to.

“I’m doing my best,” I told her.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s all I’ve got right now, Eva.”

She swallowed, her thoughts scattering as her body stirred. “You’re playing with me,” she said quietly. “You’re manipulating me.”

“I’m not. I’m giving you the truth, even though it’s not what you want to hear. You told me you wouldn’t push. Did you mean it?”

Wetting her lower lip with a brush of her tongue, she stared up at me. Then nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Let’s have some wine and dinner. Afterward, if you’d really like to play, let me know.”

“Play? How?”

“I have some silk cord I bought for you.”

Her eyes widened. “Silk cord?”

“Crimson, of course.” I released her and stepped back, giving her some space to think while I reached for the decanter to pour her a glass. “I’d like to tie you down when you’re ready for that. If not tonight, then someday. I won’t push you, either.”

We were both steering each other in directions that were uncomfortable. She chose to believe an educated observer was part of the answer we were looking for. I believed we could replace a lot of the answers on our own, just the two of us connecting in the most intimate ways possible.

Sexual healing. What could be more perfect for two people who had the history Eva and I shared?

Eva accepted the wine I handed her. “When did you buy that?”

“A week ago. Maybe two. I had no expectation of using it soon, but you made me want to today.” I took a sip, letting the shiraz roll around my tongue. “That said, I’m perfectly happy with just fucking you hard.”

The wine sloshed a little in her glass as she lifted it to her mouth. She gulped it down, leaving a few drops in the bottom. “Because you’re mad at me for talking to Chris.”

“I told you I wasn’t.”

“You were furious when we left.”

“Furiously turned on.” I smiled wryly. “I can’t explain why, because I don’t understand it myself.”

“Try.”

I reached up and brushed the pad of my thumb over her lips. “I see you angry, passionate, ready to fight, and I want all that violence trapped beneath me. You make me want to hold you down, clawing and screaming, your cunt milking my cock as I pound it into you. Mine. All mine.”

“Gideon.” She set her glass aside and grabbed me, claiming my mouth with a wild hunger I hoped would never abate.

“How come you never told Chris about what happened with Hugh?”

That unwelcome question came out of the fucking blue. I paused midchew, suddenly replaceing the bite of pizza in my mouth unappetizing. Dropping what was left of my slice onto the plate in front of me, I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. “Why are we discussing this again?”

Eva frowned at me from where she sat beside me on the floor in between the coffee table and the couch in the living room. “We didn’t talk about it.”

“Didn’t we? In any case, it doesn’t matter. My mother told him.”

Her frown deepened. She reached for the TV remote and lowered the volume, muting the voices of the NYPD detectives on the screen. “I don’t think so.”

I pushed to my feet and grabbed my plate. “She did, Eva.”

“Do you know that for sure?” She followed me into the kitchen.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“They discussed it at the dinner table one night, something I don’t want to do.”

“He acted like he didn’t know.” She braced her hands against the counter as I dropped my leftovers into the trash. “He seemed genuinely confused and horrified.”

“Then he’s as conveniently obtuse as my mother. You shouldn’t be surprised.”

“What if he didn’t know?”

“So what?” I set the plate in the sink, the lingering smell of food making my stomach roil. “What the fuck does it matter now? It’s done, Eva. Done and over with. Let it go.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Because I was settled in for the night with my wife. Dinner, wine, a little TV, a couple hours making love … after a long, rough day.” I left the kitchen. “Forget it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Gideon, wait.” She grabbed my arm. “Don’t go to bed pissed. Please. I’m sorry.”

I paused and removed her hand from my arm. “So am I.”

“START out slow,” he whispers, his lips near my ear.

I can feel him becoming excited. He reaches around my hip to where I’m stroking my penis. His hand covers mine. His breath is quick and shallow. His erection brushes against my buttocks.

My stomach feels sick. I’m sweating. I can’t stay hard, even as my oiled fist slides up and down, guided by his.

“You’re thinking too much,” he tells me. “Concentrate on how good it feels. Look at that woman in front of you. She wants you to fuck her. Imagine how it’d feel to push your cock into her. Soft. Hot. Wet. And tight.” His grip closes harder over mine. “So tight.”

I look at the centerfold spread over the top of my toilet’s water tank. She’s got dark hair and blue eyes, and her legs are long. They always look like that, the women in the pictures Hugh brings.

He pants in my ear, and the sickness is back. Wrong. There’s something wrong with me. This feels wrong. His eagerness makes me feel dirty. Bad. I’m a bad boy, even Mom says so. She yells it at me when she’s crying, when she’s angry with me about Dad.

A low moan cuts through the sound of his heavy breaths. It’s me making that noise. It feels good, even though I don’t want it to.

It’s hard to breathe, to think, to fight …

“That’s it,” he coaxes. His other hand pushes between my buttocks.

I try to pull away, but he’s got me trapped. He’s bigger than me, stronger. No matter how I struggle, I can’t push him off.

“Don’t,” I tell him, squirming.

“You like it,” he grunts. His hand pumps me harder. “You shoot off like a geyser every time. It’s okay. It’s supposed to feel good. You’ll be better once you’ve come. You won’t fight with your mother so much …”

“No. Don’t! Oh, God …”

He pushes two slick fingers inside me. I cry out, writhing away, but he won’t quit. He’s rubbing and thrusting into me, hitting the spot that makes me want to come more than anything. The pleasure grows despite the tears burning my eyes.

My head falls forward. My chin touches my heaving chest. It’s coming. I can’t stop it …

Abruptly, I look down from a higher vantage. My hand is suddenly bigger, my forearm thicker and coursing with veins. Dark hair dusts my arms and chest, my abdomen ripples with muscle as I fight the orgasm I don’t want.

I am not a child anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.

There’s a knife atop the centerfold, gleaming in the light from the vanity beside me. I grab it and jerk free of the fingers fucking me. I turn and the blade sinks into his chest.

“Don’t touch me!” I roar, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him into the knife, all the way to the hilt.

Hugh’s eyes widen with horror. His mouth falls open in a silent scream.

His face morphs into Nathan’s. My childhood bathroom shimmers and transforms. We’re in an eerily familiar hotel room.

My heart pounds harder. I can’t be here. They can’t replace me here. Can’t replace any trace of me. I have to leave.

I stumble back. The knife withdraws in a smooth, blood-soaked glide. Nathan’s eyes turn milky with death. They’re gray. Gray eyes. Beautiful, beloved dove gray irises. Eva’s eyes. Clouding over …

Eva is bleeding in front of me. Dying in front of me. I’ve killed her. My God …

Angel!

Can’t move. Can’t reach her. She crumples and pools onto the floor, those stormy eyes dull and sightless—

I jerked awake with a gasp, sitting up in a rush that sent an air-conditioned breeze across my sweat-soaked skin. I couldn’t breathe through the panic and fear choking me. Shoving off the sheet tangled around my legs, I stumbled out of bed, blind with terror. My stomach heaved in protest and I lurched into the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before I vomited.

I showered, washing away the sticky sweat covering me.

The grief and despair weren’t so easy to get away from. As I scrubbed a dry towel over my skin, they weighed heavily, suffocating me. The memory of Eva’s pale face etched with betrayal and death haunted me. I couldn’t get it out of my head.

I stripped the bed with rough, jerky movements, then yanked a clean fitted sheet over the mattress.

“Gideon.”

I straightened and turned at the sound of Eva’s voice. She stood in the doorway to my bedroom, her hands twisting in the hem of the T-shirt she wore. Regret hit me hard. She’d gone to sleep alone in the room I’d had redesigned to look like her bedroom on the Upper West Side.

“Hey,” she said softly, tentatively, shifting on her feet in a way that told me how uncomfortable she felt. How wary. “Are you okay?”

The light from the bathroom lit her face, revealing dark circles and reddened eyes. She’d fallen asleep crying.

I’d done this to her. I had made her feel unwelcome, unwanted, her thoughts and feelings less of a concern to me than my own. I’d let my past drive a wedge between us.

No, that wasn’t true. I had let my fear push her away.

“No, angel, I’m not.”

She took a single step closer, then stopped herself.

Opening my arms, I said hoarsely, “I’m sorry, Eva.”

She came to me in a rush, her body lush and warm. I held her too tightly, but she didn’t complain. Pressing my cheek to the top of her head, I breathed in her scent. I could face anything—I would face anything—as long as she stayed with me.

“I’m afraid.” My voice was scarcely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her fingers dug into the muscles of my back as she pulled me closer. “Don’t be. I’m here.”

“I’ll try harder,” I promised. “Don’t give up on me.”

“Gideon.” She sighed, her breath soft against my chest. “I love you so much. I just want you to be happy. I’m sorry for pushing you after I said I wouldn’t.”

“It’s my fault. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Eva. So sorry.”

“Shh. You don’t have to apologize.”

I picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down carefully. I crawled into her arms, wrapping myself around her and resting my face against her belly. She ran her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp, then my nape, then my back. Accepting me, despite all my flaws.

The cotton of her T-shirt grew wet with my tears and I curled in tighter, ashamed.

“I love you,” she murmured. “I’ll never stop.”

GIDEON.

I stirred at the sound of Eva’s voice, then at the feel of her hand sliding down my chest. Opening my tired, burning eyes, I saw her leaning over me, the room softly lit by the coming dawn, her hair aglow in the meager light.

“Angel?”

She shifted, sliding a leg over me. Rising, she straddled me. “Let’s make today our best ever.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m on board with that plan.”

Her smile rocked my world. She reached for something she’d left on her pillow and a moment later, haunting strains of music piped softly out of the speakers in the ceiling.

It took me a moment to recognize it. “Ave Maria.”

She touched my face, her fingertips gliding over my brow. “Okay?”

I wanted to answer her, but my throat was too tight. I could only nod. How could I tell her it felt like a dream, a breathtaking heaven I didn’t deserve?

She reached behind her to push the sheet below my hips and out of the way. Her arms crossed her torso to pull her shirt up and over her head. She threw it aside.

Awed, I struggled for my voice. “God, you’re beautiful,” I said hoarsely.

My hands lifted, gliding over the plush curves and valleys of her voluptuous body. I sat up and dug my heels into the bed, pushing us backward until I was leaning against the headboard. My hands went into her hair and down her throat. I could touch her for days and not get my fill.

“I love you,” she said, tilting her head to take my mouth in a hot, demanding kiss.

I let her have me, opening to her. Eva licked deep, stroking me with her tongue, her lips soft and wet against mine.

“Tell me what you need,” I murmured, lost to the gently muted music. Lost to her.

“You. Just you.”

“Take me, then,” I told her. “I’m yours.”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Cross,” Arash said, his fingers drumming on the armrest of the chair in front of my desk, “but you’ve lost your killer instinct. Eva’s tamed you.”

I glanced up from my monitor. After spending two hours of my morning making love with my wife, I could concede that I wasn’t feeling particularly aggressive. Slaked and relaxed was more apt. Still … “Just because I don’t think LanCorp’s PhazeOne gaming system is a threat to the GenTen doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.”

“You’re aware,” he corrected, “which isn’t the same as paying attention, and I guarantee Ryan Landon has noticed. You used to do something every week or two to poke at him, which—for better or worse—gave him something to do.”

“Wasn’t it just last week that we closed the PosIT deal?”

“That’s reactive, Cross. You need to make a move he didn’t prompt.”

My office phone started ringing on the line synced to my smartphone. Ireland’s name popped up on the screen and I reached for the receiver. “I have to take this.”

“Of course you do,” he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I answered. “Ireland, how are you?”

It wasn’t like my sister to call. We usually texted back and forth, a form of communication we were both comfortable with. No awkward silences, no need to fake cheeriness or ease.

“Hey, sorry to call you in the middle of the day.” Her voice was off.

I frowned, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Ireland paused. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

I cursed inwardly. Eva had similar reactions when I was too brusque. The women in my life needed to cut me some slack. I had a big learning curve when it came to social interactions. “You sound upset.”

“So do you,” she shot back.

“You can call Eva and complain about it to her. She’ll sympathize. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

She sighed. “Mom and Dad were fighting all night. I don’t know what about, but Dad was yelling. He never yells, you know that. He’s the most laid-back guy ever. Nothing gets to him. And Mom hates fighting. She’s a conflict avoider.”

Her astuteness both startled and impressed me. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Dad took off early this morning and Mom’s been crying ever since. Do you know what’s going on? Is it about Eva and you getting married?”

A strange but recognizable quiet settled over me. I didn’t know what to say to her, and I refused to jump to conclusions. “That probably has something to do with it.”

The only thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want Ireland listening to her parents fighting. I remembered what it had felt like when my parents fought in the days after my dad’s financial fraud had been exposed. I could still feel echoes of the panic and fear. “Is there a friend you can stay with over the weekend?”

“You.”

The suggestion was unnerving. “You want to stay with me?”

“Why not? I’ve never seen your place.”

I stared at Arash, who was watching me. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees.

I didn’t know how to refuse, but I couldn’t agree. The only person who’d ever spent the night with me was Eva, and obviously, that hadn’t turned out well.

“Never mind,” she said. “Forget it.”

“No, wait.” Damn it. “Eva and I have plans with friends tonight, that’s all. I’ll need some time to change them.”

“Oh, gotcha.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want to fuck up your plans. I’ve got some friends I can call. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worried about you. Eva and I can make some adjustments; it’s not a problem.”

“I’m not a kid, Gideon,” she said, clearly exasperated. “I don’t want to hang around your place knowing you and Eva were supposed to be out having fun. That would totally suck, so no thanks. I’d rather chill with my own friends.”

Relief relaxed my spine. “How about dinner on Saturday instead?”

“Yeah? I’m down. Can I stay the night then?”

I had no idea how I was going to manage it. I had to trust that Eva would know what to do. “That can be arranged. Will you be okay until then?”

“Jeez, listen to you.” She laughed. “You sound like a big brother. I’ll be fine. It was just weird, you know, hearing them going at it. It freaked me out. Most people are probably used to their parents fighting, but I’m not.”

“They’ll be fine. All couples fight eventually.” I said the words, but I was both uneasy and curious.

Eva couldn’t have been right about Chris not knowing. I found that impossible to believe.

I’D just finished rolling up the sleeves of my black dress shirt when Eva stepped into the reflection of the mirror. I froze, my gaze raking over her.

She had chosen short shorts, a sheer sleeveless blouse, and high-heeled sandals. She’d pulled her hair up in its usual ponytail, but she had done something to it to make it look wild and bedhead messy. Her eye makeup was dark, her lips pale. Big gold hoops hung from her ears, and bangles decorated her wrists.

I’d woken up to an angel. I would be going to bed with a different woman entirely.

I whistled in appreciation, turning my back to the mirror to take in the real deal. “You look like a bad, bad girl.”

She wiggled her ass and gave a cocky toss of her head. “I am.”

“Come here.”

She eyed me. “I don’t think so. You’ve got the fuck-me look and we have to go.”

“We can be a little late. What would it take to talk you into wearing those shorts just for me?”

I wanted others to want her and know she was mine. I also wanted to keep her all to myself.

Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “We could renegotiate the hand job.”

Remembering the deal we’d struck—a quickie for a clothed hand job—I realized the shorts were going to make the former a bit more difficult than it could be. As for the latter, I could work something out.

Tilting my head in agreement, I told her, “Put on a skirt, angel, and let’s get this party started.”

“WAS this your idea?” Arash asked, when we met him outside the ground-floor entrance to the Starlight Lounge.

Through the lobby glass, I watched a bouncer oversee the number of patrons entering the elevator that would take them to the rooftop. Two more bouncers stood guard at the exterior door, holding back the surging crowd hoping to get in based on their looks, their clothes, and/or their charm.

“It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”

“I meant to tell you.” Eva was literally hopping with excitement. “Shawna’s heard good things about this place and I thought it’d be fun.”

“Great reviews online,” Shawna said, “and some of my regulars were raving about it.”

Manuel checked out the eager crowd behind the ropes, while Megumi Kaba stood cautiously between Cary and Eva. Mark Garrity, Steven Ellison, and Arnoldo all stood back, keeping the way clear for those whose names were on the VIP List.

Cary slung his arm around Megumi. “Stick with me, kid.” He gave her a wide smile. “We’ll show ’em how it’s done.”

Eva grabbed my arm. “Your surprise is here.”

I followed her gaze, spotting a couple approaching us. My brows rose when I recognized Magdalene Perez. Her hand was linked with that of the man next to her and her dark eyes were brighter than I’d seen in a long time.

“Maggie,” I greeted her, clasping her extended hand and leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

Gladder still that Eva had asked her. The two women had gotten off to a rocky start, which was entirely Maggie’s fault. The rift between them had strained my relationship with Maggie in the weeks since, and I’d been prepared to accept that as an indefinite state of affairs. It was nice, however, that I didn’t have to.

Maggie grinned. “Gideon. Eva. This is my boyfriend, Gage Flynn.”

I took the man’s hand after he shook Eva’s, noting the strength of his grip and the steady way he met my perusal. He gave me a once-over, too, but mine would be more thorough. Before the week was out, I would know everything worth knowing about the man. Maggie had been through enough with Christopher. I didn’t want to see her hurt again.

“And here’s Will and Natalie,” Eva said, as the last of our group arrived.

Will Granger had a retro beatnik look that worked for him. His arm was snug around the small blue-haired woman next to him, who dressed in the same fifties style and sported twin sleeves of tattoos.

While Eva made the introductions, I nodded at the bouncer to signal the arrival of the final members of our party. He held the line and cleared the doorway for us.

My wife shot me a suspicious glance. “Don’t tell me you own this place.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“You mean you do?”

My hand slid down her back and rested lightly on the curve of her hip. She’d ditched the shorts in favor of a fitted skirt with a split up the back. I almost wished she hadn’t changed. The shorts had shown off her legs; the skirt showed off her amazing ass.

“You need to decide if you want me to answer the question or not,” I said, as we made our way into the club. The music was loud, the amateur singer on the stage louder. Strategic lighting illuminated walkways and tables while still allowing the Manhattan nightscape to dazzle patrons. Air-conditioning pumped out of the walls and floors, cooling the open air to a comfortable temperature.

“Is there anything you don’t own in New York?”

Arash laughed. “He doesn’t own the D’Argos Regal on Thirty-sixth anymore.”

Eva stopped walking, causing Arash to bump into her from behind and send her stumbling. I shot him a glare.

Grabbing my arm, Eva yelled over the volume of the crowded club. “You got rid of the hotel?”

I looked down at her. The wonder and hope on her face more than made up for the financial hit I’d taken. I nodded.

She threw herself at me, her arms twining around my neck. She peppered my jaw with quick, fierce kisses and I smiled, my gaze meeting Arash’s.

“And suddenly,” he said, “it all makes sense.”