He smiled and for the first time, it was genuine. “Perhaps I will get my wife back after all.”
“I think you could, if you tried.” I sat up, deciding it was time to leave. “You know what your wife told me once? She said you’re indifferent. Instead of waiting for her to come back, you should just take her back. I think that’s what she wants.”
He stood when I did, standing over me. “She has chased Cross. I do not think a woman who chases will find a man chasing her attractive.”
“I don’t know about that.” I pulled a twenty out of my pocket and set it on the table, despite his scowl at the sight of it. “She said yes when you asked her to marry you, didn’t she? Whatever you did before, do it again. Good-bye, Jean-Fran?ois.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I was already halfway out the door.
ANGUS was waiting beside the Bentley when I exited the wine bar.
“Would you like to go home, Mrs. Cross?” he asked, as I slipped into the back.
His greeting made me grin. Combined with my recent conversation with Giroux, it sparked an idea. “Actually, I’d like to make a stop, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
I gave him directions, then sat back and relished the building anticipation.
IT was half past six when I was ready to call it a day, but when I asked Angus where Gideon was, I learned he was still in his office.
“Will you take me to him?” I asked.
“Of course.”
Returning to the Crossfire after hours was weird. Although there were still people moving through the lobby, it had a different feel from the daytime. When I reached the top floor, I found the glass security doors to Cross Industries propped open and a cleaning crew at work emptying trash cans, wiping down the glass, and vacuuming.
I headed directly to Gideon’s office, noting the number of empty desks, which included that of Scott, his assistant. Gideon stood behind his, an earpiece in his ear, and his jacket hung on the coat rack in the corner. His hands were on his hips and he was talking, his lips moving rapidly and his face a mask of concentration.
The wall across from him was covered in flat screens streaming news from around the world. To the right of that was a bar with jeweled decanters on lighted glass shelves that were the only spot of color in the office’s cool palette of black, white, and gray. Three distinct seating areas offered comfortable spaces for less formal meetings, while Gideon’s black desk was a miracle of modern technology, serving as the conduit for all the electronics in the room.
Surrounded by his expensive toys, my husband looked nothing short of edible. The beautifully tailored lines of his vest and pants showed off the perfection of his body, and the sight of him at his command center, wielding the power that had built his empire, did crazy things to my heart. The floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded him on two sides allowed the view of the city to make an imposing backdrop, yet the vista didn’t diminish him in any way.
Gideon was master of all he surveyed, and it showed.
Reaching into my purse, I unzipped the small pocket and drew out the rings inside it, slipping mine on. Then I stepped closer to the glass wall and double doors that separated him from everyone else.
His head swiveled toward me and his gaze heated at the sight of me. He hit a button on his desk, and the double doors swung open automatically. A moment later, the glass turned opaque, ensuring that no one lingering in the office would be able to see us.
I went in.
“I agree,” he said, to whomever he was talking to. “Get it done and report back to me.”
As he pulled off his earpiece and dropped it on his desk, his gaze never left me. “You’re a welcome surprise, angel. Tell me about your meeting with Giroux.”
I shrugged. “How did you know?”
His mouth tilted up on one side and he shot me a look that said, Really? You’re going to ask?
“Are you here for a while?” I queried.
“I have a conference call with the Japanese division in half an hour, then I’m done. We’ll go to dinner afterward.”
“Let’s get something to take home and eat with Cary. He’s having a baby.”
Gideon’s brows shot up. “Come again?”
“Well, he might be having a baby.” I sighed. “He’s messed up over it and I want to be there for him. Plus, he should get used to having you around again.”
He raked me with an assessing glance. “You’re messed up over it, too. Come here.” He rounded the desk and opened his arms. “Let me hold you.”
I dropped my purse on the floor, kicked off my heels, and walked right into him. His arms came around me, and his lips, so firm and warm, pressed against my forehead.
“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured. “Don’t worry.”
“I love you, Gideon.”
His embrace tightened.
Leaning back, I looked up into his gorgeous face. His eyes were so blue, seemingly even more so with the touch of sun he’d gotten during our trip away. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
I backed up, catching his left hand before it dropped away from me. Holding it, I slid the ring I’d just bought him onto his finger, twisting it to fit over his last knuckle. He was still the entire time. When I released his hand so he could get a better look, it didn’t move at all from where it’d been when I was holding it, as if he’d frozen in place.
Canting my head, I admired the ring on him, thinking it had just the effect I was looking for. But when a moment passed without a word from him, I looked up and saw him staring at his hand as if he’d never seen it before.
My heart sank. “You don’t like it.”
His nostrils flared on a deep breath and he turned over his hand to look at the backside, which was the same. The design I’d chosen wrapped continuously around.
The platinum wedding band was very much like the ring he wore on his right hand. It had the same beveled grooves cut into the precious metal, which gave it a similar industrial, masculine look. But the wedding band was garnished with rubies, making it impossible to miss. The bloodred hue stood out against his tanned skin and dark suits, a conspicuous sign of my possession.
“It’s too much,” I said quietly.
“It’s always too much,” he said hoarsely. And then he was on me, his hands cupping my head and his lips on mine, kissing me fiercely.
I grabbed his wrists, but he moved too quickly, lifting me up by the waist so my feet left the floor, and then carrying me to the same couch where he’d first laid his body over mine so many weeks ago.
“You don’t have time for this,” I gasped.
He sat me down with my butt on the edge of the sofa. “This won’t take long.”
He wasn’t kidding. Reaching beneath my skirt, he slid my panties down my legs, then spread them wide and lowered his head.
There in his office, where I’d just admired his power and commanding presence, Gideon Cross knelt between my thighs and ate me with ruthless skill. His tongue fluttered over my clit until I writhed with the need to come, but it was the sight of him—in his suit, in his office, servicing me so thoroughly—that brought me to climax with a cry of his name.
I was shivering with pleasure while he licked inside me, the sensitive tissues trembling around the shallow plunges of his wickedly knowledgeable tongue. When he opened his fly and freed his erection, I was desperate for him, my body arching toward him in a shameless silent plea.
Gideon took the heavy length of his cock in hand and stroked the thick crest through my cleft, coating himself in the slickness of my orgasm. The fact that we were both still dressed except for what we needed to get out of the way made it all the hotter.
“I want you to submit,” he said darkly. “Bend over and spread wide. I’m going to fuck you deep.”
A whimper escaped me at the thought and I scrambled to obey. Aware of how tall he was, I moved to the side of the couch and folded over the armrest, reaching behind me to pull up my skirt.
He didn’t hesitate. With a powerful thrust of his hips, he was inside me, stretching me. “Eva.”
Gasping, I clawed at the sofa cushions. He was thick and hard and so, so deep. With my stomach pressed over the curve of the couch arm, I swore I could feel him pressing outward from the inside.
Folding over me, he wrapped his arms around me and sank his teeth into the side of my neck. The primitive claiming made my sex clench around him, caressing him.
He growled and ran his lips over me, lightly abrading me with the hint of evening stubble on his jaw. “You feel so good,” he said hoarsely. “I love fucking you.”
“Gideon.”
“Give me your hands.”
Unsure of what he wanted, I slid my arms closer to my body and he circled my wrists with his fingers, pulling my hands gently around to the small of my back.
Then he was fucking me. Pounding into my sex with relentless drives, using my arms to pull me back to meet the thrusts of his hips. His heavy sac smacked against my clitoris, the rhythmic slaps spurring me toward another orgasm. He grunted on every plunge, mirroring my cries.
His race to orgasm was wildly exciting, as was his complete control of my body. I could only lie there and take it, take his lust and hunger, servicing him as he had me. The friction of his thrusts was delicious, a steady rubbing and pulling that made me crazed with desire.
I wished I could see him; see his eyes when they lost their focus and pleasure took him, his face a grimace of agonized ecstasy. I loved that I could affect him so fiercely, that my body felt so good to him, that sex with me shattered his defenses.
He shuddered and cursed. His cock lengthened, thickening as his balls tightened and drew up. “Eva … Christ. I love you.”
I felt the lash of his semen inside me, pumping hot and thick. I bit my lip to stem my cry. I was so hot for him, so close.
Releasing my wrists, he wrapped me up, the fingers of one hand sliding into my cleft and rubbing my swollen clit. I came while he was still pumping, my sex milking his spurting cock as he emptied himself inside me. His lips were on my cheek, his breath gusting hot and moist across my skin, low rumbles spilling from his chest as he came hard and long.