But he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he tortured us both. Having us undress one another for a steamy shower, our hands petting and caressing the curves and hollows of each other’s bodies; then dressing for dinner. He went all out in black tie, but skipped the tie. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a flash of skin. The cocktail dress he selected for me was a champagne silk Vera Wang with a strapless bustier bodice, an open back, and a tiered skirt that ended a few inches above my knees.
I smiled when I saw it, knowing it was going to drive him nuts seeing me in that dress all night. It was gorgeous and I loved it, but it was a style meant for tall, slender models, not short curvy girls. In a pitiful bid for modesty, I left my hair down to hang over my breasts, but it didn’t help much if Gideon’s expression was any indication.
“My God, Eva.” He adjusted himself in his slacks. “I’ve changed my mind about that dress. You shouldn’t wear it in public.”
“We don’t have time for you to change your mind.”
“I thought there was more material than that.”
I shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? You bought it.”
“I’m having second thoughts. How long could it possibly take to remove it?”
Sliding my tongue along my lower lip, I said, “I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?”
His eyes turned dark. “We’d never get out of here.”
“I wouldn’t complain.” He looked so damn hot and I wanted him—as always—really damned bad.
“Isn’t there a jacket or something you can put over that? A parka, maybe? Or a trench coat?”
Laughing, I grabbed my clutch off the dresser and wrapped my arm around his. “Don’t worry. Everyone will be too busy checking you out to even bother noticing me.”
He scowled as I tugged him out of the bedroom. “Seriously. Have your tits gotten bigger? They’re spilling out over the top of that thing.”
“I’m twenty-four years old, Gideon,” I said dryly. “I stopped developing years ago. What you see is what you get.”
“Yes, but I’m the only one who’s supposed to be seeing, since I’m the only one who’s allowed to be getting.”
We moved into the living room. In the short time it took us to pass through to the foyer, I relished the quiet beauty of Gideon’s home. I loved how warm and inviting it was. The old world charm of the décor was so elegant, yet it was also remarkably comfortable. The stunning view out of the arched windows complemented the interior, but didn’t distract from it.
The mixture of dark woods, distressed stone, warm colors, and vivid jeweled accents was clearly expensive, as was the art hung on the walls, but it was a tasteful display of wealth. I couldn’t imagine anyone feeling awkward about what to touch or where to sit. It just wasn’t that kind of space.
We caught the private elevator and Gideon faced me as the doors closed. He immediately tried tugging my bodice up.
“If you’re not careful,” I warned, “you’ll expose my crotch instead.”
“Damn it.”
“We could have fun with this. I could play the role of a bubbleheaded blond bimbo who’s after your cock and your millions, and you can be yourself—the billionaire playboy with his latest toy. Just look bored and indulgent while I rub up against you and coo about how brilliant you are.”
“That’s not funny.” Then he brightened. “What about a scarf?”
Once we checked in for the gala dinner benefitting a new crisis shelter for women and children, we were directed to a press gauntlet, triggering my fear of exposure. I focused on Gideon because nothing distracted me as thoroughly as he did. And because I was paying such close attention, I was able to watch the change from private man to public persona as it happened.
The mask slipped smoothly into place. His irises chilled to an icy blue and his sensual mouth lost any hint of curve. I could almost feel the force of his will enclosing us. There was a shield between us and the rest of the world simply because he wished it to be there. Standing beside him, I knew no one would approach or speak to me until he gave them some sign that they could.