“You know I don’t want anyone else,” he murmured. “I can’t. I’m consumed with wanting you.”
Both the Bentley and the Mercedes were waiting at the curb. The sky had darkened while I’d been inside, as if it were brooding along with the man beside me. There was a weighted expectation in the air, an early sign of a gathering summer storm.
I stopped beneath the entrance overhang and looked at Gideon. “Make them ride together. You and I need to talk.”
“That was the plan.”
Angus touched the brim of his hat and slid behind the wheel. The other driver walked up to Gideon and handed him a set of keys.
“Miss Tramell,” he said, by way of greeting.
“Eva, this is Raúl.”
“We meet again,” I said. “Did you pass on my message last time?”
Gideon’s fingers flexed against my back. “He did.”
I beamed. “Thank you, Raúl.”
Raúl went around to the front passenger side of the Bentley, while Gideon escorted me to the Mercedes and opened the door for me. I felt a little thrill as he got behind the wheel and adjusted the seat to accommodate his long legs. He started the engine and merged into traffic, expertly and confidently navigating the powerful car through the craziness of New York city streets.
“Watching you drive makes me want you,” I told him, noting how his easy grip on the wheel tightened.
“Christ.” He glanced at me. “You have a transportation fetish.”
“I have a Gideon fetish.” My voice lowered. “It’s been weeks.”
“And I hate every second of it. This is torment for me, Eva. I can’t focus. I can’t sleep. I lose my temper at the slightest irritants. I’m in hell without you.”
I never wanted him to suffer, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my own misery better knowing he was missing me as much as I was missing him.
I twisted in my seat to face him. “Why are you doing this to us?”
“I had an opportunity and I took it.” His jaw firmed. “This separation is the price. It won’t last forever. I need you to be patient.”
I shook my head. “No, Gideon. I can’t. Not anymore.”
“You’re not leaving me. I won’t let you.”
“I’ve already left. Don’t you see that? I’m living my life and you’re not in it.”
“I’m in it every way I can be right now.”
“By having Angus following me around? Come on. That’s not a relationship.” I leaned my cheek against the seat. “Not one I want anyway.”
“Eva.” He exhaled harshly. “My silence is the lesser of two evils. I feel like whether I explain or not, I’ll drive you away, but explaining carries the greatest risk. You think you want to know, but if I tell you, you’ll regret it. Trust me when I say there are some aspects of me you don’t want to see.”
“You have to give me something to work with.” I set my hand on his thigh and felt the muscle bunch, then twitch in response to my touch. “I’ve got nothing right now. I’m empty.”
He set his hand over mine. “You trust me. Despite what you see to the contrary, you’ve come to trust in what you know. That’s huge, Eva. For both of us. For us, period.”
“There is no us.”
“Stop saying that.”
“You wanted my blind trust and you have it, but that’s all I can give you. You’ve shared so little of yourself and I’ve lived with it because I had you. And now I don’t—”
“You have me,” he protested.
“Not the way I need you.” I lifted one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “You’ve given me your body and I’ve been greedy with it, because that’s the only way you’re really open to me. And now I don’t have that, and when I look at what I do have, it’s just promises. It’s not enough for me. In the absence of you, all I have are a pile of things you won’t tell me.”
He stared straight ahead, his profile rigid. I pulled my hand out from under his and twisted the other way, giving him my back while I looked out the window at the teeming city.