Gideon was always dangerous. No one ever mistook him for anything else. I was intensely attracted to that about him, understood that I would never tame him. And God, was he gorgeous. He knew it, too. Knew how dazzled I was by him.
But the green-eyed monster could still get the better of him.
“You’ll stay for dinner?” I asked Arash. “No idea what I’m making yet, but we ruined your plans and I feel bad about that.”
“It’s still early.” Gideon took a deep swallow of his wine. “He can make other plans.”
“I’d love to stay for dinner,” Arash said, grinning wickedly.
I couldn’t resist copping another feel, so I reached around my husband to get my wine and caressed his thigh while I was at it. I brushed my breasts across his back as I withdrew my hand.
Lightning quick, Gideon’s hand caught my wrist. He squeezed and a shiver of arousal slid through me.
Those blue eyes turned on me. “You want to misbehave?” he asked silkily.
I was instantly desperate for him. Because he looked so cool and savagely civilized, completely contained while he basically asked if I wanted to fuck.
He had no idea how much.
I heard a faint buzz. Still holding me captive by the wrist, Gideon looked across the island at Arash. “Pass my phone over.”
Arash looked at me and shook his head, even as he turned to dig Gideon’s phone out of the suit jacket on the bar stool. “How you put up with him, I will never know.”
“He’s great in bed,” I quipped, “and he’s not surly there, so …”
Gideon yanked me into his side and bit my earlobe. My nipples tightened into hard points. He growled almost inaudibly against my neck, though I doubted he cared if Arash heard.
Breathless, I pulled away and tried to focus on cooking. I hadn’t taken over Gideon’s kitchen before, hadn’t a clue where anything was or what he had stocked, aside from what I’d glimpsed while getting coffee ready for the police. I found an onion, and located a knife and cutting board. Grateful as I was for the distraction, I had to do something else besides getting us both revved up.
“Right,” Gideon said into the phone with a sigh. “I’m coming.”
I looked up. “Do you have to go somewhere?”
“No. Angus is bringing Lucky up.”
I grinned.
“Who’s Lucky?” Arash asked.
“Gideon’s dog.”
The lawyer looked suitably shocked. “You have a dog?”
“I do now,” Gideon said ruefully, leaving the kitchen.
When he returned a moment later with a squirming Lucky happily licking his jaw, I melted. There he stood, in his vest and shirtsleeves, a titan of industry, a global powerhouse, and he was being overwhelmed by the cutest puppy ever.
Picking up his phone, I unlocked it and snapped a picture.
That was going into a frame, ASAP.
While I was at it, I texted Cary. Hey, it’s Eva. Want to come over to the penthouse for dinner?
I waited a beat for him to reply, then set Gideon’s phone down and went back to chopping.
“I should’ve listened to you about Anne,” I told Gideon as we returned to the living room after saying good-bye to Arash. “I’m sorry.”
His hand at my lower back slid over farther, cupping my waist. “Don’t be.”
“It’s got to be frustrating for you to deal with my stubbornness.”
“You’re great in bed, and you’re not stubborn there, so …”
I laughed as he tossed my words back at me. I was happy. Spending the evening with him and Arash, watching how relaxed and easy he was with his friend, being able to move around the penthouse as if it were my home …
“I feel married,” I murmured, realizing that I hadn’t truly felt that way before. We had the rings and the vows, but those were the trappings of marriage, not the reality of it.
“You should,” he replied, with a familiar note of arrogance, “since you are and will be for the rest of your life.”
I looked at him as we settled on the sofa. “Do you?”
His gaze went to the playpen by the fireplace where Lucky slept. “Are you asking if I feel domesticated?”
“That will never happen,” I said dryly.
Gideon looked at me, searching. “Do you want me to be?”
I ran my hand down his thigh, because I couldn’t help myself. “No.”
“Tonight … You liked having Arash here.”
I shot him a look. “You’re not jealous of your lawyer, are you? That would be ridiculous.”
“I don’t like it, either.” He scowled. “But that’s not what I meant. You like having people over.”
“Yes.” I frowned. “Don’t you?”
He looked away, his lips pursed. “It’s fine.”
I stilled. Gideon’s home was his sanctuary. Before me, he’d never brought any women here. I’d assumed he had entertained his guy friends, but maybe not …? Maybe the penthouse was where he retreated from everyone.
I reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, Gideon. I should’ve asked you first. I didn’t think about it and I should have. It’s your home—”
“Our home,” he corrected, focusing back on me. “What are you apologizing for? You have every right to do whatever you like here. You don’t have to ask me for permission for anything.”
“And you shouldn’t feel invaded in your own home.”
“Our home,” he snapped. “You need to grasp that concept, Eva. Quickly.”
I jerked back from his sudden flare of temper. “You’re mad.”
He stood and rounded the coffee table, his body vibrating with tension. “You went from feeling married to acting like you’re a guest in my house.”
“Our house,” I corrected. “Which means we share it and you have the right to say you’d rather we didn’t entertain here.”
Gideon shoved a hand through his hair, a sure sign of his increasing agitation. “I don’t give a shit about that.”
“You’re certainly acting like you do,” I said evenly.
“For fuck’s sake.” He faced me, his hands on his lean hips. “Arash is my friend. Why would I care if you cook him dinner?”
Were we circling back to jealousy? “I cooked dinner for you, and invited him to join us.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“It doesn’t seem fine, ’cuz you’re pissed.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, I’m confused and that’s starting to make me pissed.”
His jaw tightened. He turned away, walking to the fireplace and looking at the family photos I’d placed on the mantel.
I suddenly regretted doing that. I would be the first to admit that I pushed him into change faster than I should, but I understood the need for a haven, a quiet place to let your guard down. I wanted to be that for him, wanted our home to be that for him. If I made it a place he wanted to avoid—if he ever found it easier to avoid me—then I would effectively be jeopardizing the very marriage I valued more than anything.
“Gideon. Please talk to me.” Maybe I’d made that difficult, too. “If I’ve crossed a line, you have to tell me.”
He faced me again, frowning. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand why you’re upset with me. Help me understand.”
Gideon heaved a sigh of frustration, then focused on me with the laserlike precision that had exposed every secret I’d had. “If there weren’t anyone else on earth, just you and me, I’d be okay with that. But that wouldn’t be enough for you.”
I sat back, startled. His mind was a labyrinth I would never map. “You would be okay with just me and no one else—indefinitely? No competitors to squash? No global domination to plan?” I snorted. “You’d be bored out of your mind.”
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
“What about you?” he challenged. “How would you manage with no friends to invite over and no one else’s life to meddle in?”