Captivated by You (Crossfire#4) (30 page)

I rounded on him, feeling the sickness clawing up from my gut and burning my throat.
“What the

fuck do you want?”

Chris pulled his shoulders back. He faced me with reddened eyes and wet cheeks, shaking but too

stupid to run. “I want you to know that you’re not alone.”

Alone. Yes. Far away from the pity and guilt and pain staring out at me through his tears. “Get out.”

Nodding, he headed toward the foyer. I stood immobile, my chest heaving, my eyes burning. Words

backed up in my throat; violence pounded in the painful clench of my fists.

He stopped before he left the room, facing me. “I’m glad you told Eva.”

“Don’t talk about her.” I couldn’t bear to even think of her. Not now, when I was so close to losing it.

He left.

The weight of the day crashed onto my shoulders, dropping me to my knees.

I broke.

1 4

I WAS DREAMING of a private beach and naked Gideon when I was jerked awake by the sound of my

phone ringing. Rolling to my side, I thrust my arm out and smacked around on the top of my nightstand, trying to find my smartphone in the dark. My fingers brushed against the familiar shape and I grabbed it, sitting up.

Ireland’s face lit up my screen. I frowned and glanced at the space beside me in the bed. Gideon

wasn’t home. Of course, he could’ve found me sleeping and gone next door to go to bed …

“Hello?” I answered, noting that the time on the cable box said it was after eleven o’clock.

“Eva. It’s Chris Vidal. I’m sorry to call so late, but I’m worried about Gideon. Is he all right?”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with Gideon?”

There was a pause. “You haven’t talked to him tonight?”

I slid out of bed and turned on the lamp. “No. I fell asleep. What’s going on?”

He cursed with an intensity that made the hairs rise on my arms. “I met with him earlier about …

the things you told me. He didn’t take it well.”

“Oh my God.” I spun around blindly. Something to wear. I needed something to put on over the

racy teddy I’d planned to seduce Gideon with.

“You have to find him, Eva,” he said urgently. “He needs you now.”

“I’m going.” I tossed the phone on my bed and yanked a wool trench coat out of my closet before

racing out of my room. I grabbed the keys to the next-door apartment from my purse and ran down the

hall. Fumbling with the deadbolt, I took too long to open the door.

The place was as shadowy and silent as a tomb, the rooms empty.

“Where are you?” I cried into the darkness, feeling the scratch of panicked tears in my throat.

I ended up back in my apartment, my fingers trembling as I opened the app on my smartphone that

would track his.

He didn’t take it well.

God. Of course, he didn’t. He hadn’t taken it well when I’d told Chris initially. Gideon had been

furious. Aggressive. He’d had a horrible nightmare.

The blinking red dot on the map was right where I was hoping it would be. “The penthouse.”

I shoved my feet into flip-flops and hurried back out to my purse.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Cary asked from the kitchen, jolting me.

“Jesus, you just scared the shit out of me!”

He sauntered up to the breakfast bar in just his Grey Isles boxer briefs, his chest and neck

glistening with sweat. Since the air-conditioning was working fine and Trey was spending the night, I knew exactly how and why Cary was overheated.

“It’s a good thing I did—you can’t go out like that,” he drawled.

“Watch me.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the door.

“You’re a freak, baby girl,” he shouted after me. “A woman after my own heart!”

GIDEON’S doorman didn’t bat an eye when I climbed out of the back of the taxi in front of his building.

Of course, the man had seen me in worse shape before. So had the concierge, who smiled and greeted

me by name as if I didn’t look like a crazy homeless person. Albeit one in a Burberry coat.

I walked as fast as I could in flip-flops to the private penthouse elevator, waited for it to descend to me, then keyed in the code. It was a straight shot up, but the ride felt endless. I wished I could pace the confines of the small, elegantly appointed car. My worried face stared back at me from the

spotless mirrors.

Gideon hadn’t called. Hadn’t sent me a text after the flirtatious one promising me a steamy night.

Hadn’t come to me, even if only to sleep next door. Gideon didn’t like being away from me.

Except when he was hurting. And ashamed.

The elevator doors slid open and pounding, screaming heavy metal music poured in. I cringed and

covered my ears, the volume of the ceiling-mounted speakers so loud it hurt to hear them.

Pain. Fury. The raging violence of the music crashed over me. I ached deep in my chest. I knew. I

understood. The song was an audible manifestation of what Gideon felt inside himself and couldn’t

let out.

He was too controlled. Contained. His emotions so tightly leashed, along with his memories.

I dug into my purse for my phone and ended up dropping the whole bag, spilling the contents onto

the elevator car floor and across the checkerboard foyer. I left it all where it fell except for my

smartphone, which I picked up and swiped through to get to the app that controlled the surround

sound. I synced it to softer music, lowered the volume, and hit enter.

The penthouse fell silent for an endless moment, and then the gentle chords of “Collide” by Howie

Day began to play.

I felt Gideon approaching before I saw him, the air crackling with the violent energy of an

impending summer storm. He rounded the corner from the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I lost my

breath.

He was shirtless and barefooted, his hair a silky tousled mane that brushed his shoulders. Black

sweats clung to the lowest point of his hips, underlining the tight lacing of his abs. He was bruised on his ribs and up by his shoulder, the signs of battle only strengthening the impression of rage and

ferocity tightly leashed.

My choice of music clashed with the emotion seething from him. My beautiful, savagely elegant

warrior. The love of my life. So tormented that the sight of him brought hot, stinging tears to my eyes.

He jerked to a halt when he saw me, his hands clenching and releasing at his sides, his eyes wild

and nostrils flaring.

My phone slid out of my hand and hit the floor. “Gideon.”

He sucked in a breath at the sound of my voice. It changed him. I watched the shift come over him,

like a door slamming shut. One moment, he was bristling with emotion. The next, he was cool as ice,

his surface as smooth as glass.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice dangerously even.

“Finding you.” Because he was lost.

“I’m not fit company now.”

“I can deal with it.”

He was too still, as if he were afraid to move. “You should go. It’s not safe for you here.”

My pulse leaped. Awareness sizzled across my senses. I felt the heat of him from across the room.

His need. The demand. I was suddenly melting in my jacket. “I’m safer with you than anywhere else

on earth.” I took a deep breath for courage. “Does Chris believe you?”

His head went back. “How do you know?”

“He called. He’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he snapped. Which told me he wasn’t fine now.

I made my way to him, feeling the burn of his gaze as it tracked me. “Of course, you will be.

You’re married to me.”

“You need to go, Eva.”

I shook my head. “It almost hurts worse, doesn’t it, when they believe you? You wonder why you

waited to tell them. Maybe you could’ve stopped it sooner, if you’d just told the right person?”

“Shut up.”

“There’s always that little voice inside us that thinks we’re to blame for what happened.”

His eyes squeezed as tightly closed as his fists. “Don’t.”

I closed the distance between us. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t be what I need. Not now.”

“Why not?”

Those fiercely blue eyes snapped open, pinning me so thoroughly that I paused midstep. “I’m

hanging on by a thread, Eva.”

“You don’t have to hang on,” I told him, holding my hands out to him. “Let go. I’ll catch you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I can’t … I can’t be gentle.”

“You want to touch me.”

His jaw worked. “I want to
fuck
you. Hard.”

I felt the heat sweep up to my cheeks. It was a testament to how much he wanted me that he could

still find me desirable despite my ridiculous clothes. “I’m totally up for that. Always.”

My fingers went to the lapels of my coat. I’d partially buttoned up on the cab ride over, not wanting to flash anyone by accident. Now the trench was sweltering, my skin damp with perspiration.

Gideon lunged and caught my wrists, squeezing them too hard. “Don’t.”

“You don’t think I can handle you? After all we’ve done together? All we’ve talked about and plan

on doing?”

God. His entire body was straining, tense, every muscle thick and hard. And his eyes, so bright

against his tanned skin, so agonized. My Dark and Dangerous.

He gripped my elbow and started walking.

“What—?” I stumbled.

He dragged me toward the elevator. “You have to go.”

“No!” I struggled, kicking off my flip-flops and digging my feet in.

“Damn it.” He rounded on me and yanked me up, facing me nose to nose. “I can’t promise to stop.

If I take you too far and you safe word, I might not stop and this—
us
—will all go to hell!”

“Gideon! For chrissakes, don’t be afraid to want me too much!”

“I want to punish you,” he snarled, gripping my face in both hands. “You did this! You brought this

on. Pushing people … pushing me. Look what you’ve done!”

I smelled the liquor on him then, the rich vapor of some expensive spirit. I’d never seen him truly

drunk—he valued his control too much to completely dull his senses—but he was drunk now.

The first hint of wariness rippled through me.

“Yes,” I said shakily, “this is my fault. I love you too much. Will you punish me for that?”

“God.” He closed his eyes. His hot, damp forehead touched mine, nuzzling hard. His sweat coated

my skin, imprinting me with the lushly masculine scent that was his alone.

I felt him soften, relaxing infinitesimally. I turned my head and pressed my lips to his feverish

cheek.

He stiffened. “No.”

Gideon pulled me toward the elevator, yanking me into the foyer and kicking the scattered contents

of my purse out of the way.

“Stop it!” I yelled, trying to tug my arm free.

But he wouldn’t listen. His finger stabbed at the call button. The car doors opened instantly, the

private elevator always waiting to take him down. He threw me in and I stumbled into the rear wall.

Desperate, I yanked at the belt of my coat, my urgency giving me strength. I tore at the buttons,

sending them rolling in every direction. The doors were closing when I spun to face him, holding the lapels of my coat wide open so he could see what I was wearing beneath.

His arm shot out, blocking the door from closing. He shoved it open. The teddy I’d worn was

bloodred—our color—and had scarcely any material to it at all. Sheer mesh exposed my breasts and

sex, while bandagelike cutouts caged my waist.

“Bitch,” he hissed, stalking into the confined space, shrinking it too small. “You can’t stop

pushing.”

“I’m
your
bitch,” I shot back, feeling the tears well and fall. It was painful to have him so angry with me, even though I understood. He needed an outlet and I’d positioned myself as the target. He’d warned me … tried to protect me … “I can take you, Gideon Cross. I can take whatever you’ve got.”

He tackled me back into the wall so hard the impact knocked the breath from me. His mouth

covered mine, his tongue plunging deep. His hands squeezed my breasts roughly, his knee pressing

hard between my legs.

I arched into him, fighting to shrug off my coat. I was too hot, sweat sliding down my back and

belly. Gideon wrenched the trench off, tossing it aside, his mouth sealed to mine. A moan of gratitude escaped me, my arms wrapping around his neck, my heart swelling with the relief of holding him. My

fingers pushed into his hair, my grip tightening to give me leverage to crawl up him.

Gideon tore his mouth away, then my hands. “Don’t touch me.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped, too hurt to hold the words back. Just to spite him, I broke free of his grip

and let my hands roam over his rock-hard shoulders and biceps.

He pushed me back, holding me to the wall with a single hand against the middle of my chest. No