Entwined with You (Crossfire 3)

“That’s a beautiful watch,” she said, looking at my new one.

“Thank you.” My hand covered it, protecting it. The timepiece was priceless to me, and deeply personal. “Gideon bought it for me.”

She looked horrified. “You didn’t tell him about the tracker, did you?”

“I tell him everything, Mom. We don’t have any secrets.”

“Maybe you don’t. What about him?”

“We’re solid,” I said confidently. “And getting stronger every day.”

“Oh.” She nodded, her short curls swaying gently. “That’s … wonderful, Eva. He can take good care of you.”

“He already does, in the way I need him to, which has nothing to do with his money.”

My mother’s lips tightened at my bitter tone. She didn’t actually frown, something she studiously avoided to protect the flawlessness of her skin. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss money, Eva. You never know when or why you’ll need it.”

Irritation simmered through me. She’d put money first my whole life, no matter who she hurt—like my father—in the process.

“I don’t,” I argued. “I just won’t let it rule my life. And before you blurt out something like, oh it’s easy for me to say that, I can guarantee if Gideon lost every cent he had, I’d still be with him.”

“He’s too smart to lose it all,” she said tightly. “And if you’re lucky, you’ll never have anything happen that will drain you financially.”

I sighed, exasperated with the topic. “We’re never going to see eye to eye on this, you know.”

Her beautifully manicured fingers stroked over the handle of her silverware. “You’re so angry at me.”

“Do you realize Dad’s in love with you? He’s so in love with you, he can’t move on. I don’t think he’ll ever get married. He’ll never have a steady woman in his life who’ll take care of him.”

She swallowed hard and a tear slid down her cheek.

“Don’t you dare cry,” I ordered, leaning forward. “This isn’t about you. You’re not the victim here.”

“I’m not allowed to feel pain?” she retorted, her voice harder than I’d ever heard it. “I’m not allowed to cry over a broken heart? I love your father, too. I would give anything for him to be happy.”

“You don’t love him enough.”

“Everything I’ve done is for love. Everything.” She laughed humorlessly. “My God … I wonder how you can stand to be with me when you hold such a low opinion.”

“You’re my mother and you’ve always been on my side. You’re always trying to protect me, even if you go about it the wrong way. I love you and Dad both. He’s a good man who deserves to be happy.”

She took a shaky sip of water. “If it weren’t for you, I’d wish we had never met. We both would’ve been happier that way. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“You could be with him. Make him happy. You seem to be the only woman who can.”

“That’s impossible,” she whispered.

“Why? Because he’s not rich?”

“Yes.” Her hand went to her throat. “Because he’s not rich.”

Brutal honesty. My heart sank. There was a bleak look in her blue eyes I’d never seen before. What drove her to need money so desperately? Would I ever know or understand? “But you’re rich. Isn’t that enough?”

Over the course of three divorces, she’d amassed millions in personal wealth.

“No.”

I stared at her, incredulous.

She looked away, her three-carat diamond studs catching the light and glittering with a rainbow of colors. “You don’t understand.”

“So explain it to me, Mom. Please.”

Her gaze returned to me. “Maybe someday. When you’re not so upset with me.”

Sitting back in my chair, I felt a headache building. “Fine. I’m upset because I don’t understand, and you won’t explain because I’m upset. We’re getting nowhere fast.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Her expression was pleading. “What happened between your father and me—”

“Victor. Why don’t you ever say his name?”

She flinched. “How long will you punish me?” she asked quietly.

“I’m not trying to punish you. I just don’t get it.”

It was crazy that we were sitting in a bright, busy space filled with people and dealing with painful personal crap. I wished she’d had me over to her place instead, the home she shared with Stanton. But I guessed she had wanted the buffer of an audience to keep me from totally losing it.

“Listen,” I said, feeling tired. “Cary and I are going to move out of the apartment, get something on our own.”

My mom’s shoulders straightened. “What? Why? Don’t be reckless, Eva! There’s no need—”

“There is, though. Nathan’s gone. And Gideon and I want to spend more time together—”

“What does that have to do with you moving away?” Her eyes flooded with tears. “I’m sorry, Eva. What more can I say?”

“This isn’t about you, Mom.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, fidgeting because her crying always got to me. “Okay, honestly, it does feel weird living in a place Stanton pays for after what happened between you and Dad, but more than that, Gideon and I want to live together. It just makes sense to start fresh someplace.”

“Live together?” My mother’s tears dried up. “Before marriage? Eva, no. That would be a horrible mistake. What about Cary? You brought him out to New York with you.”

“And he’ll stay with me.” I didn’t feel like telling her I hadn’t brought up the Gideon-as-a-roommate idea to Cary yet, but I was confident he’d be okay with it. I would be around more and the rent would be easier to bear when split in thirds. “It’ll be the three of us.”

“You don’t live with a man like Gideon Cross if you’re not married to him.” She leaned forward. “You have to trust me on this. Wait for the ring.”

“I’m not in a rush to get married,” I said, even as my thumb rubbed over the back of my ring.

“Oh my God.” My mother shook her head. “What are you saying? You love him.”

“It’s too soon. I’m too young.”

“You’re twenty-four. That’s the perfect age.” Determination straightened my mother’s spine. For once, that didn’t bother me, because it restored some of her spirit. “I’m not going to let you ruin this, Eva.”

“Mom—”

“No.” Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “Trust me and slow down. I’ll handle this.”

Crap. That wasn’t at all reassuring when she was on Gideon’s side of the marriage argument and not mine.

18

I WAS STILL thinking about my mom when I left the Crossfire at five o’clock. The Bentley waited at the curb and as I walked up to it, Angus climbed out and smiled at me.

“Good evening, Eva.”

“Hi.” I smiled back. “How are you, Angus?”

“Excellent.” He rounded the rear of the car and opened the back door for me.

I searched his face. How much did he know about Nathan and Gideon? Did he know as much as Clancy? Or even more than that?

Slipping into the cool backseat, I pulled out my smartphone and called Cary. It went to voice mail, so I left a message. “Hey, just reminding you that I’ll be gone this weekend. Would you do me a favor and think about moving into a place we share with Gideon, and we can talk about it when I get back? Someplace new, that we can all afford. Not that he has to worry about that,” I added, imagining Cary’s expression. “Okay. If you need me and you can’t reach me on my cell, send me an e-mail. Love you.”

I’d just hit the end button when the door opened and Gideon joined me. “Hi, ace.”

He caught me by the back of the neck and kissed me, his mouth sealing over mine. His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting me, making my thoughts grind to a halt. I was breathless when he let me go.

“Hi, angel,” he said roughly.

“Wow.”

His mouth curved. “How was lunch with your mom?”

I groaned.

“That good, huh?” He caught my hand. “Tell me about it.”

“I don’t know. It was weird.”

Angus got in the driver’s seat and pulled into traffic.

“Weird?” Gideon prompted. “Or uncomfortable?”

“Both.” I looked out the tinted window as we slowed due to traffic. The sidewalks were clogged with people, but they were moving briskly. It was the cars that were stuck. “She’s so focused on money. That’s nothing new, but I’m used to her acting like it’s just common sense to want financial security. Today, she seemed … sad. Resigned.”

His thumb stroked soothingly over my knuckles. “Maybe she’s feeling guilty for cheating.”

“She should! But I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s something else, but I don’t have a clue.”

“Do you want me to look into it?”

I turned my head to meet his gaze. I didn’t answer right away, thinking it over. “I do, yes. But I feel icky about it, too. I researched you, Dr. Lucas, Corinne … I keep digging for people’s secrets instead of just asking about them outright.”

“So ask her,” he said, in that matter-of-fact male way.

“I did. She said she’d talk about it when I wasn’t upset.”

“Women,” he scoffed, with warm amusement in his eyes.

“What did Giroux want? Did you know he was coming by?”

He shook his head. “He wants someone to blame for his marriage troubles. I’m convenient.”

“Why doesn’t he stop blaming and start fixing? They need to go into counseling.”

“Or get a divorce.”

I stiffened. “Is that what you want?”

“What I want is you,” he purred, releasing my hand to grab me instead and pull me onto his lap.

“Fiend.”

“You have no idea. I have diabolical plans for you this weekend.”

The heated look he raked me with had my thoughts shifting in a much naughtier direction. I was pulling his head down for a kiss when the Bentley turned, and it was suddenly dark. Looking around, I realized we’d pulled into a parking garage. We drove around two levels, pulled into a spot, then immediately pulled out again.

Along with four other black Bentley SUVs.

“What’s going on?” I asked, as we headed back toward the exit with two Bentleys in front of us and two behind us.

“Shell game,” he said, nuzzling my throat.

We pulled back out into traffic, heading in different directions.

“Are we being followed?” I asked.

“Just being cautious.” His teeth sank gently into my flesh, making my n**ples hard. Supporting my back with one arm, he brushed the side of my breast with his thumb. “This weekend is ours.”

He’d taken my mouth in a lush, deep kiss when we pulled into another parking garage. We slid into a spot and the door was yanked open. I was trying to figure out what was going on, when Gideon swung his legs to the side and slipped out of the Bentley with me held firmly in his arms, only to immediately step into the back of another car.

We were on the road again in less than a minute, with the Bentley pulling out into traffic in front of us and heading in the opposite direction.

“This is insane,” I said. “I thought we were leaving the country.”

“We are. Trust me.”

“I do.”

His eyes were soft on my face. “I know you do.”

We didn’t have any more stops on the way to the airport. We pulled right onto the tarmac after a brief security check, and I preceded Gideon up the short flight of steps into one of his private jets. The cabin was luxurious yet understated in its elegance, with sofa seating on the right and table and chairs on the left. The flight attendant was a handsome young guy with black dress slacks and vest embroidered with the Cross Industries logo and his name, Eric.

“Good evening, Mr. Cross. Miss Tramell,” Eric greeted us with a smile. “Would you like something to drink as we prepare for takeoff?”

“Cranberry and Kingsman for me,” I said.

“The same,” Gideon replied, shrugging out of his jacket and handing it over to Eric, who waited while Gideon stripped off his vest and tie, too.

I watched appreciatively, throwing in a whistle for good measure. “I’m liking this trip already.”

“Angel.” He shook his head, his eyes laughing.

A gentleman in a navy suit entered the plane. He greeted Gideon warmly, shook my hand when introduced, then requested our passports. He was gone as quickly as he’d come, and the cabin door was closed. Gideon and I were buckled in at the table with our drinks when the plane started taxiing down the runway.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?” I asked, lifting my drink in a toast.

He clinked his crystal tumbler against mine. “Don’t you want it to be a surprise?”

“Depends on how long it takes to get there. I might go crazy with curiosity before we land.”

“I expect you’ll be too busy to think about it.” His mouth curved. “This is a mode of transportation, after all.”

“Oh.” I glanced back, seeing the little hallway of doors at the back of the plane. One would be a lavatory, one an office, and the other a bedroom. Expectation coursed through me. “How much time have we got to kill?”

“Hours,” he purred.