“You cut me off. Shut me out. You and me—”
“Forever.” His fingertips pressed against my parted lips. “It’s over, Eva. Don’t argue about something that’s too late to change.”
I brushed his hand away. “Is it over? Can we be together now, or are we still hiding our relationship from the police? Are we even in a relationship?”
Gideon held my gaze, hiding nothing, letting me see his pain and fear. “That’s what I’m here to ask you.”
“If it’s up to me, I’ll never let you go,” I said vehemently. “Never.”
Gideon’s hands slid down my throat to my shoulders, blazing a hot trail across my skin. “I need that to be true,” he said softly. “I was afraid you’d run … that you’d be afraid. Of me.”
“Gideon, no—”
“I would never hurt you.”
I caught the waistband of his sweats and tugged, even though I couldn’t budge him. “I know that.”
And physically, I had no doubts; he’d always been careful with me, always cautious. But emotionally, my love had been used against me with meticulous precision. I was struggling with reconciling the absolute trust I had in Gideon’s awareness of my needs and the wariness that came from a shattered heart still healing.
“Do you?” He searched my face, as attuned as always to what wasn’t said. “Letting you go would kill me, but I wouldn’t hurt you to keep you.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere.”
He exhaled audibly. “My lawyers will be talking to the police tomorrow, to get a feel for where things stand.”
Tilting my head back, I pressed my lips gently to his. We were colluding to hide a crime, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t seriously bother me—I was the daughter of a police officer, after all—but the alternative was too awful to consider.
“I have to know that you can live with what I’ve done,” he said softly, wrapping my hair around his finger.
“I think so. Can you?”
His mouth found mine again. “I can survive anything if I have you.”
I reached under his sweatshirt, seeking and finding his warm, golden skin. His muscles were hard and ridged beneath my palms, his body a seductive and virile work of art. I licked his lips, my teeth catching the full curve along the bottom and biting gently. Gideon groaned. The sound of his pleasure slid over me like a caress.
“Touch me.” The words were an order, but his tone was a plea.
“I am.”
Reaching behind him, he grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand around. He thrust his cock shamelessly into my palm, grinding. My fingers curled around the thick, heavy length, my pulse quickening at the realization that he was commando beneath his sweats.
“God,” I breathed. “You make me so hot.”
His blue eyes were fierce on my face; his cheeks flushed and his sculpted lips parted. He never tried to hide the effect I had on him, never pretended that he had any more control over his response to me than I had to him. It made his dominance in the bedroom all the more exciting, knowing that he was similarly as helpless to the attraction between us.
My chest tightened. I still couldn’t believe that he was mine, that I got to see him this way, so open and hungry and sexy as hell …
Gideon tugged my towel open. He inhaled sharply when it hit the floor and I stood before him completely naked. “Ah, Eva.”
His voice throbbed with emotion, making my eyes sting. He yanked his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. Then he reached for me, stepping carefully into me, prolonging the moment when our bare skin would touch.
He gripped my hips, his fingers flexing restlessly, his breathing quick and harsh. The tips of my breasts touched him first, sending a sudden rush of sensation through my body. I gasped. He crushed me to him with a growl, lifting my feet from the floor and carrying me backward toward the bed.
2