“You’re the only one who can do that.”
He gave a curt nod, which didn’t help me feel better about what he was feeling. A lot of men got nervous meeting their girlfriend’s parents, but Gideon wasn’t like other men. He didn’t rattle. Usually. I wanted him and my dad to be loose and easy around each other, not tense and defensive.
I changed the subject. “Did you get everything worked out in Phoenix?”
“Yes. One of the project managers noted some anomalies in accounting, and she was right to push me to look deeper into it. Embezzling isn’t something I tolerate.”
I winced, thinking of Gideon’s father, who’d bilked investors out of millions before killing himself. “What’s the project?”
“A golf resort.”
“Nightclubs, resorts, luxury living, vodka, casinos . . . with a chain of gyms thrown in to keep fit for the high life?” I knew from checking out the Cross Industries website that Gideon also had software and games divisions, and a growing social media platform for young urban professionals. “You’re a pleasure god in more ways than one.”
“Pleasure god?” His eyes sparkled with humor. “I spend all my energy worshipping you.”
“How did you get to be so rich?” I blurted out, pricked by the memory of Cary’s insinuations about how Gideon could’ve amassed so much at such a young age.
“People like to have fun, and they’ll pay for the privilege.”
“That’s not what I meant. How did you get Cross Industries started? Where did you get the capital to get things going?”
His eyes took on a speculative gleam. “Where do you think I got it?”
“I have no idea,” I told him honestly.
“Blackjack.”
I blinked. “Gambling? Are you kidding?”
“No.” He laughed and tightened his arms around me.
But I couldn’t see Gideon as a gambler. I’d learned, thanks to my mom’s third husband, that gambling could become a very nasty and insidious disease that caused total lack of control. I just couldn’t see someone as rigidly controlled as Gideon finding anything appealing about something so dependent on luck and chance.
Then it hit me. “You count cards.”
“When I played,” he agreed. “I don’t anymore. And the contacts I made over card tables were as instrumental as the money I made.”
I tried to absorb that information, struggled with it, then let it go for the moment. “Remind me not to play cards with you.”
“Strip poker could be fun.”
“For you.”
He reached down and squeezed my ass. “And for you. You know how I get when you’re naked.”
I shot a pointed glance down at my fully dressed body. “And when I’m not naked.”
Gideon’s grin flashed, dazzling and entirely unapologetic.
“Do you still gamble?”
“Every day. But only in business and with you.”
“With me? With our relationship?”
His gaze was soft on my face, filled with a sudden tenderness that made my throat tight. “You’re the greatest risk I’ve ever taken.” His pressed his lips gently to mine. “And the greatest reward.”
*
When I got to work Monday morning, I felt like things were finally settling back into their natural pre-Corinne rhythm. Gideon and I were dealing with adjusting to my period, which had never been an issue for either of us in any previous relationship we’d had, but was in ours because sex was how he showed me what he was feeling. He could say with his body what he couldn’t with words, and my lust for him was how I proved my faith in us, something he needed to feel connected to me.