He held up a hand as if to hold me off. “I’m going home, Eva.”
“Sleep on the couch here. Don’t fight me about this, Gideon. Please. I’ll worry myself sick if you go.”
“You’ll be more worried if I stay.” He stared at me, looking lost and angry and filled with terrible yearning. His eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness, but he wouldn’t accept it when I tried to give it to him.
I went to him and took his hand, fighting back the surge of apprehension that hit me when we touched. My nerves were still raw, my throat and mouth still sore, the memory of his attempts at penetration—so like Nathan’s—were still too fresh. “We’ll g-get through this,” I promised him, hating that my voice quavered. “You’ll talk to Dr. Petersen and we’ll go from there.”
His hand lifted as if to touch my face. “If Cary hadn’t been here—”
“He was, and I’ll be fine. I love you. We’ll get past this.” I walked into him, hugging him, pushing my hands beneath his shirt to touch his bare skin. “We’re not going to let the past get in the way of what we have.”
I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince.
“Eva.” His returning hug squeezed all of the air out of me. “I’m sorry. It’s killing me. Please. Forgive me…I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” My eyes closed, focusing on the feel of him. The smell of him. Remembering that I once feared nothing when I was with him.
“I’m so sorry.” His shaking hands stroked the curve of my spine. “I’ll do anything…”
“Shh. I love you. We’ll be okay.”
Turning his head, he kissed me softly. “Forgive me, Eva. I need you. I’m afraid of what I’ll become if I lose you…”
“I’m not going anywhere.” My skin tingled beneath the restless glide of his hands on my back. “I’m right here. No more running.”
He paused, his breath gusting harshly against my lips. Then he tilted his head and sealed his mouth over mine. My body responded to the gentle coaxing of his kiss. I arched into him without volition, pulling him closer.
He cupped my breasts in his hands, kneading them, circling the pads of his thumbs over my nipples until they peaked and ached. I moaned with a mixture of fear and hunger, and he quivered at the sound.
“Eva…?”
“I—I can’t.” The memory of how I’d woken up was too fresh in my mind. It hurt me to deny him, knowing he needed the same thing from me as I’d needed from him when I told him about Nathan—proof that the desire was still there, that as ugly as the scars of our pasts were, they didn’t affect what we were to each other now.
But I couldn’t give him that. Not yet. I felt too raw and vulnerable. “Just hold me, Gideon. Please.”
He nodded, wrapping his arms around me.
I urged him to sink to the floor with me, hoping I could get him to fall asleep. I curled into his side, my leg thrown over his, my arm draped over his hard stomach. He squeezed me gently, pressing his lips to my forehead, whispering over and over again how sorry he was.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered. “Stay.”
Gideon didn’t answer, didn’t make any promises, but he didn’t let me go either.
I woke sometime later, hearing Gideon’s heart beating steadily beneath my ear. All the lights were still on, and the carpeted floor was hard and uncomfortable.
Gideon lay on his back, his beautiful face youthful in sleep, his shirt lifted just enough to expose his navel and the ripped muscles of his abdomen.
This was the man I loved. This was the man whose body gave me such pleasure, whose thoughtfulness moved me over and over again. He was still here. And from the frown that marred the space between his brows, he was still hurting.