Reflected in You

by Sylvia Day

  “Come on!” my mom said, grabbing both of our hands and pulling us out of the room.

  When we made it down to the lobby level, we found Stanton’s limousine waiting. My stepfather climbed out of the back and wrapped his arms around my mom, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek because he knew she wouldn’t want to mess up her lipstick. Stanton was an attractive man, with snow white hair and denim blue eyes. His face bore some traces of his years, but he was still a very attractive man, one who stayed fit and active.

  “Eva!” He hugged me, too, and kissed my cheek. “You look ravishing.”

  I smiled, not quite sure whether being “ravishing” meant I looked like I was going to ravish someone or was waiting to be ravished.

  Stanton shook Cary’s hand and gave him a gentle slap to the shoulder. “It’s good to see you back on your feet, young man. You gave us all a scare.”

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  “No thanks necessary,” Stanton said, waving it off. “Ever.”

  My mom took a deep breath, then let it out. Her eyes were bright as she watched Stanton. She caught me looking at her and smiled, and it was a peaceful smile.

  We ended up at a private club with a big band and two excellent singers—one male and one female. They switched frequently throughout the evening, providing the perfect accompaniment to a candlelit meal served in a high-backed velvet booth right out of a classic Manhattan society photo. I couldn’t help but be charmed.

  Between dinner and dessert, Cary asked me to dance. We’d taken formal dance classes together, at my mother’s insistence, but we had to take it easy with Cary’s injuries. We basically just swayed in place, enjoying the contentment that came from ending a happy day with a good meal shared with loved ones.

  “Look at them,” Cary said, watching Stanton expertly lead my mom around the dance floor. “He’s crazy about her.”

  “Yes. And she’s good for him. They give each other what they need.”

  He looked down at me. “You thinking about your dad?”

  “A little.” I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, thinking of longer and darker strands that felt like thick silk. “I never really thought of myself as romantic. I mean, I like romance and grand gestures and that tipsy feeling you get when you’re crushing hard on someone. But the whole Prince Charming fantasy and marrying the love of your life wasn’t my thing.”

  “You and me, baby girl, we’re too jaded. We just want mind-blowing sex with someone who knows we’re fucked up and accepts it.”

  My mouth twisted wryly. “Somewhere along the way, I deluded myself into thinking Gideon and I could have it all. That being in love was all we needed. I guess because I never really thought I’d ever fall in love like that, and there’s the whole myth that when you do, you’re supposed to live happily ever after.”

  Cary pressed his lips to my brow. “I’m sorry, Eva. I know you’re hurting. I wish I could fix it.”

  “I don’t know why it never occurred to me to just find someone I can be happy with.”

  “Too bad we don’t want to bang each other. We’d be perfect.”

  I laughed and leaned my cheek against his heart.

  When the song ended, we pulled apart and started toward our table. I felt fingers circle my wrist and turned my head—

  I found myself looking into the eyes of Christopher Vidal Jr., Gideon’s half brother.

  “I’d like to have the next dance,” he said, his mouth curved in a boyish grin. There was no sign of the malicious man I’d witnessed on a secret video Cary had captured during a garden party at the Vidal residence.

  Cary stepped forward, looking at me for cues.

  My first instinct was to refuse Christopher, and then I looked around. “Are you here alone?”

  “Does it matter?” He tugged me into his arms. “You’re the one I want to dance with. I’ve got her,” he said to Cary, sweeping me off.

  We’d first met just like this, with him asking me to dance. I’d been on my first date with Gideon, and things had already begun falling apart at that point.

  “You look fantastic, Eva. I love your hair.”

  I managed a tight smile. “Thank you.”

  “Relax,” he said. “You’re so stiff. I won’t bite.”

  “Sorry. Just want to be sure I don’t offend whoever you’re here with.”

  “Just my parents and the manager of a singer who’d like to sign with Vidal Records.”

  “Ah.” My smile widened into one more genuine. That was just what I was hoping to hear.

  As we danced, I kept searching the room. I saw it as a sign when the song ended and Elizabeth Vidal stood, catching my eye. She excused herself from her table and I excused myself from Christopher, who protested.

  “I have to freshen up,” I told him.

  “All right. But I insist on buying you a drink when you come back.”

  I took off after his mother, debating whether I should just come out and tell Christopher I thought he was a total asswipe of epic proportions. I didn’t know if Magdalene had told him about the video, and if she hadn’t, I figured there was probably a good reason why.

  I waited for Elizabeth just outside the bathroom. When she reappeared, she spotted me hanging out in the hallway and smiled. Gideon’s mother was a beautiful woman, with long straight black hair and the same amazing blue eyes as her son and Ireland. Just looking at her made my heart hurt. I missed Gideon so much. It was an hourly battle with myself not to contact him and take whatever I could get.

  “Eva.” She greeted me with air kisses for each of my cheeks. “Christopher said it was you. I didn’t recognize you at first. You look so different with your hair like that. I think it’s lovely.”

  “Thanks. I need to talk to you. Privately.”

  “Oh?” She frowned. “Is something wrong? Is it Gideon?”

  “Come on.” I gestured deeper down the hallway, toward the emergency exit.

  “What’s this about?”

  Once we were away from the bathrooms, I told her. “Remember when Gideon was a child and he told you he’d been abused or violated?”

  Her face paled. “He told you about that?”

  “No. But I’ve witnessed his nightmares. His horrible, ugly, vicious nightmares where he begs for mercy.” My voice was low but throbbed with anger. It was all I could do not to keep my hands to myself as she stood there looking both embarrassed and militant. “It was your job to protect and support him!”

  Her chin went up. “You don’t know—”

  “You’re not to blame for what happened before you knew.” I got in her face, felt satisfaction when she took a step back. “But anything that happened after he told you is entirely your fault.”

  “Fuck you,” she spat at me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. How dare you come up to me like this and say these things to me when you’re clueless!”

  “Yeah, I dare. Your son is seriously damaged by what happened to him, and your refusal to believe him made it a million times worse.”

  “You think I would tolerate the abuse of my own child?” Her face was flushed with anger and her eyes too bright. “I had Gideon examined by two separate pediatricians to look for . . . trauma. I did everything I could be expected to do.”

  “Except believe him. Which is what you should’ve done as his mother.”

  “I’m Christopher’s mother, too, and he was there. He swears nothing happened. Who was I supposed to believe when there was no proof? No one could find anything to support Gideon’s claims.”

  “He shouldn’t have had to provide proof. He was a child!” The anger I felt was vibrating through me. My fists were clenched against the urge to hit her. Not just for what Gideon had lost, but for what we’d lost together. “You were supposed to take his side no matter what.”

  “Gideon was a troubled boy, struggling through therapy over his father’s death, and desperate for attention. You don’t know what he was like then.”

  “I
know what he’s like now. He’s broken and hurting and doesn’t think he’s worth loving. And you helped make him that way.”

  “Go to hell.” She stormed off.

  “I’m already there,” I shouted after her. “And so is your son.”

  * * *

  I spent all day Sunday being Old Eva.

  Trey had the day off and took Cary out for brunch and a movie. I was pleased to see them together, thrilled that they were both trying. Cary hadn’t invited over any of the people who called his cell, and I wondered if he was rethinking his friendships. I suspected many were of the fair-weather variety—great fun but no substance.

  Having the entire apartment to myself, I slept too much, ate crappy food, and never bothered to change out of my pajamas. I cried over Gideon in the privacy of my room, staring at the collage of photos that used to be on my desk at work. I missed the weight of his ring on my finger and the sound of his voice. I missed the feel of his hands and lips on me and the tenderly possessive way he took care of me.

  When Monday came around, I left the apartment as New Eva. With smoky eyes, pink lips, and my new bouncy layered cut, I felt like I could pretend to be someone else for the day. Someone who wasn’t heartbroken and lost and angry.

  I saw the Bentley when I stepped outside, but Angus didn’t bother to exit the car, knowing I wouldn’t accept a ride. It puzzled me that Gideon would have him wasting his time hanging around, just in case I might have him drive me somewhere. It didn’t make any sense unless Gideon was feeling guilty. I hated guilt, hated that it afflicted so many of the people in my life. I wish they’d just drop it and move on. Like I was trying to do.

  The morning at Waters Field & Leaman went by swiftly, because I had Will, the new assistant, to help out as well as my regular work to do. I was glad that he wasn’t afraid to ask lots of questions, because he kept me too busy to count the seconds, minutes, and hours since the last time I’d seen Gideon.

  “You look good, Eva,” Mark said when I first joined him in his office. “Are you doing all right?”

  “Not really. But I’ll get there.”

  He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his desk. “Steven and I broke up once, about a year and a half into our relationship. We’d had a rough couple weeks and decided it’d be easier to let it go. It was fucking awful,” he said vehemently. “I hated every minute of it. Getting up every morning was a monumental feat and he was in the same shape. So anyway . . . if you need anything . . . ”

  “Thank you. The best thing you can do for me right now is keep me busy. I just don’t want any time to think about anything but work.”

  “I can do that.”

  When lunch came around, Will and I grabbed Megumi and we headed to a nearby pizza place. Megumi filled me in on her growing relationship with her blind date, and Will told us about his adventures at Ikea as he and his girlfriend worked on filling their loft apartment with do-it-yourself furniture. I was glad I had my spa day to talk about.

  “We’re heading to the Hamptons this weekend,” Megumi said as we returned to the Crossfire. “My guy’s grandparents have a place out there. How cool is that?”

  “Very.” I passed through the turnstiles beside her. “I’m jealous you’ll be able to get away from the heat.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Better than furniture assembly,” Will muttered, following a group of people onto one of the elevators. “I can’t wait ’til we’re done.”

  The doors started to close, and then they slid open again. Gideon stepped into the car after us. The familiar, palpable energy that always coursed between us hit me hard. Awareness rippled down my spine and flared outward, sending goose bumps racing across my skin. The hair on my nape prickled.

  Megumi glanced at me, and I shook my head. I knew better than to look directly at him. I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t do something rash or desperate. I craved him so deeply, and it had been too long since he’d held me. I used to have the right to touch him, to reach for his hand, to lean into him, to sift my fingers through his hair. It was a horrible ache inside me that I wasn’t allowed to do those things anymore. I had to bite my lip to stifle a moan of agony at being this close to him again.

  I kept my head down, but I felt Gideon’s eyes on me. I continued talking to my co-workers, forcing myself to focus on the discussion of furniture and the compromises necessary for cohabiting with someone of the opposite sex.

  As the car continued its ascent and frequent stops, the number of people in the car dwindled. I was acutely attuned to where Gideon was, aware that he never took elevators this crowded, suspecting and hoping and praying that he’d just wanted to see me, be with me, even if it was only in this terribly impersonal way.

  When we arrived on the twentieth floor, I took a deep breath and prepared to step out, hating the inevitable separation from the one thing in the world that made me feel truly alive.

  The doors opened.

  “Wait.”

  My eyes closed. I was stopped by the softly rasped command. I knew I should keep going as if I hadn’t heard him. I knew it was just going to hurt so much worse if I gave him any more of myself, even a minute more of my life. But how could I possibly resist? I’d never been able to when it came to Gideon.

  I stepped aside so that my co-workers could exit. Will frowned when I didn’t follow, confused, but Megumi tugged him out. The doors closed.

  I moved into the corner, my heart pounding. Gideon waited on the opposite side, radiating expectation and demand. As we climbed to the top floor, my body responded to his near-tangible need. My breasts swelled and became heavy; my sex grew slick and swollen. I was greedy for him. Needful. My breathing quickened.

  He hadn’t even touched me and I was nearly panting with desire.

  The elevator glided to a stop. Gideon pulled the key out of his pocket and plugged it into the panel, suspending the car. Then he came to me.

  There were only inches between us. I kept my head bowed and stared at his gleaming oxfords. I heard his breathing, deep and quick like mine. I smelled the subtly masculine scent of his skin, and my pulse leaped.

  “Turn around, Eva.”

  A shiver moved through me at the familiar and beloved authoritative tone. Closing my eyes, I turned, then gasped as he immediately pressed against my back, flattening me to the wall of the car. His fingers linked with mine, holding my hands up by my shoulders.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, nuzzling into my hair. “It hurts to look at you.”

  “Gideon. What are you doing?”

  I felt his hunger pouring off him, enveloping me. His powerful frame was hard and hot, and vibrating with tension. He was aroused, his thick cock a firm pressure I couldn’t stop myself from grinding into. I wanted him. I wanted him inside me. Filling me. Completing me. I’d been so empty without him.

  He took a deep shuddering breath. His fingers flexed restlessly between mine, as if he wanted to touch me elsewhere but restrained himself.

  I felt the ring I’d given him digging into my flesh. I turned my head to look at it and tensed when I saw it, confused and agonized.

  “Why?” I whispered. “What do you want from me? An orgasm? You want to fuck me, Gideon? Is that it? Blow your load inside me?”

  His breath hissed out at having those crude words thrown back in his face. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t call it what it is?” I closed my eyes. “Fine. Just do it. But don’t put that ring on and act like this is something it’s not.”

  “I never take it off. I won’t. Ever.” His right hand released mine and he reached into his pocket. I watched as he slid the ring he’d given me back onto my finger, and then he lifted my hand to his mouth. He kissed it, then pressed his lips—quick, hard, angry—to my temple.

  “Wait,” he snapped.

  Then he was gone. The car began its descent. My right hand curled into a fist and I backed away from the wall, breathing hard.

  Wait. For what?

  Chapter 18 />
  When I exited the elevator on the twentieth floor, I was dry-eyed and determined. Megumi buzzed me through the security doors and pushed to her feet. “Is everything all right?”

  I stopped by her desk. “I have no fucking clue. That man is a total head trip.”

  Her brows rose. “Keep me posted.”

  “I should just write a book,” I muttered, resuming my walk back to my cubicle and wondering why in hell everyone was so interested in my dating life.

  When I got to my desk, I dropped my purse in the drawer and sat down to call Cary.

  “Hey,” I said, when he answered. “If you get bored—”

  “If?” He snorted.

  “Remember that folder of information you compiled on Gideon? Can you make me one of those on Dr. Terrence Lucas?”

  “Okay. Do I know this guy?”

  “No. He’s a pediatrician.”

  There was a pause, then, “Are you pregnant?”

  “No! Jeez. And if I were, I’d need an obstetrician.”

  “Whew. All right. Spell his name for me.”

  I gave Cary what he needed, then looked up Dr. Lucas’s office and made an appointment to see him. “I won’t need to fill out any new-patient paperwork,” I told the receptionist. “I just want a quick consult.”

  After that, I called Vidal Records and left a message for Christopher to call me.

  When Mark came back from lunch, I went over and knocked on his open door. “Hey. I need to ask for an hour in the morning for an appointment. Is it all right if I come in at ten and stay ’til six?”

  “Ten to five is fine, Eva.” He looked at me carefully. “Everything okay?”

  “Getting better every day.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

  We dived back into work, but thoughts of Gideon weighed heavily on my mind. I kept staring at my ring, remembering what he had said when he’d first given it to me: The Xs are me holding on to you.