I could see why.
The woman, whoever she was, was deeply in love with Gideon. It was there on her face and in her pale, otherworldly blue eyes. Her beauty was stunning, so exquisite as to be surreal. Her hair was black as ink and hung thick and straight almost to her waist. Her dress was the same icy hue as her eyes, her skin golden from the sun, her body long and perfectly curved.
“Corinne,” he greeted her, the natural rasp in his voice even more pronounced. He released me and caught her hands. “You didn’t tell me you were back. I would’ve picked you up.”
“I left a few messages on your voice mail at home,” she said, in a voice that was cultured and smooth.
“Ah, I haven’t been there much lately.” As if that reminded him I was next to him, he released her and drew me up to his side. “Corinne, this is Eva Tramell. Eva, Corinne Giroux. An old friend.”
I extended my hand to her and she shook it.
“Any friend of Gideon’s is a friend of mine,” she said with a warm smile.
“I hope that applies to girlfriends as well.”
When her gaze met mine, it was knowing. “Especially girlfriends. If you could spare him a moment, I’ve been hoping to introduce him to an associate of mine.”
“Of course.” My voice was calm; I was anything but.
Gideon gave me a perfunctory kiss on the temple before he stepped closer to Corinne and offered his arm to her, leaving Magdalene standing awkwardly next to me.
I actually felt sorry for her, she looked so dejected. “Your new hairstyle is very flattering, Magdalene.”
She glanced at me, her mouth tight, and then it softened with a sigh that sounded filled with resignation. “Thank you. It was time for a change. Time for many changes, I think. Also, there was no reason to imitate the one who got away now that she’s back.”
I frowned in confusion. “You lost me.”
“I’m talking about Corinne.” She studied my face. “You don’t know. She and Gideon were engaged, for over a year. She broke it off, married a wealthy Frenchman, and moved to Europe. But the marriage fell apart. They’re now getting divorced and she’s moved back to New York.”
Engaged. I felt the blood drain from my face, my gaze shifting to where the man I loved stood with the woman he must’ve once loved, his hand moving to the small of her back to steady her as she leaned into him with a laugh.
As my stomach twisted with jealousy and sick fear, it struck me that I’d assumed he had never had a serious romantic relationship before me. Stupid. As hot as he was, I should’ve known better.
Magdalene touched my shoulder. “You should sit down, Eva. You’re very pale.”
I knew I was breathing too fast and my speeding pulse rate was dangerously high. “You’re right.”
Moving to the nearest available chair, I got off my feet. Magdalene sat beside me.
“You love him,” she said. “I didn’t see it. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for what I said to you the first time we met.”
“You love him, too,” I replied woodenly, my gaze unfocused. “And at that time, I didn’t. Not yet.”
“Doesn’t excuse me, does it?”
I gratefully accepted another glass of champagne when it was offered to me and took a second for Magdalene before the waiter straightened to move on. We clinked glasses in a pitiful display of scorned female solidarity. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get up and walk out. I wanted Gideon to realize I’d left, to be forced to leave after me. I wanted him to feel some of the pain I felt. Stupid, immature, hurtful imaginings that made me feel small.
I took comfort from Magdalene sitting silently beside me in commiseration. She knew how it felt to love Gideon and want him too much. That I sensed she was as miserable as I was confirmed what a threat Corinne might be.
Had he been pining for her this whole time? Was she the reason he’d closed himself off from other women?