by Day, Sylvia
“I noticed you running into the ocean last night and sinking like a damn stone!” Leaning forward, he held my gaze. “Don’t argue the prenup on principle. If there are no deal breakers for you in it, live with it. For me.”
I sat back. “You and I have a long way to go,” I said softly. “A document can’t force us to believe in each other. I’m talking about trust, Gideon.”
“Yeah, well—” He hesitated. “I don’t trust myself not to fuck this up, and you don’t trust that you’ve got what I need. We trust each other just fine. We can work on the rest together.”
“Okay.” I watched his eyes light up and knew I was making the right decision, even if I was still partially convinced that it was a decision we were making too soon. “I do have one revision.”
“Name it.”
“You just did. The name issue.”
“Nonnegotiable,” he said flatly, with an empathic swipe of his hand for good measure.
I arched a brow. “Don’t be a fucking Neanderthal. I want to take my dad’s name, too. He’s wanted that and it’s bothered him my whole life. This is my chance to fix it.”
“So, Eva Lauren Reyes Cross?”
“Eva Lauren Tramell Reyes Cross.”
“That’s a mouthful, angel,” he drawled, “but do what makes you happy. That’s all I want.”
“All I want is you,” I told him, leaning forward to offer him my mouth for a kiss.
His lips touched mine. “Let’s make it official.”
I married Gideon Geoffrey Cross barefoot on a Caribbean beach with the hotel manager and Angus McLeod as witnesses. I hadn’t realized Angus was there, but I was pleased that he was.
It was a quick, beautifully simple ceremony. I could tell from the beaming smiles of the reverend and Claude that they were honored to officiate over Gideon’s nuptials.
I wore the prettiest dress I’d found in the closet. Strapless and ruched from breasts to hips, with petals of organza floating down to my feet, it was a sweet yet sexy romantic gown. My hair was up in an elegantly messy knot with a red rose tucked into it. The hotel provided a bouquet of white-ribboned jasmine.
Gideon wore graphite gray slacks and an untucked white dress shirt. He went barefoot, too. I cried when he repeated his vows, his voice strong and sure, even while his eyes betrayed a heated yearning.
He loved me so much.
The entire ceremony was intimate and deeply personal. Perfect.
I missed my mom and dad and Cary. I missed Ireland and Stanton and Clancy. But when Gideon bent to seal our marriage with a kiss, he whispered, “We’ll do this again. As many times as you want.”
I loved him so much.
Angus stepped up to kiss me on both cheeks. “It does me good to see you both so happy.”
“Thank you, Angus. You’ve taken good care of him for a long time.”
He smiled, his eyes glistening as he turned to Gideon. He said something so heavily accented by his Scottish heritage, I couldn’t be sure it was any form of English at all. Whatever it was, it made Gideon’s eyes shine, too. How much of a surrogate father had Angus been to Gideon over the years? I would always be grateful to him for giving Gideon support and affection when he desperately needed it.
We cut a small cake and toasted with champagne on the terrace of our suite. We signed the register the reverend offered and were given our certificate of marriage to sign as well. Gideon’s fingers brushed over it reverently.
“Is this what you needed?” I teased him. “This piece of paper?”
“I need you, Mrs. Cross.” He pulled me close. “I wanted this.”
Angus took both the certificate and prenup with him when he made himself scarce. Both had been duly notarized by the hotel manager and would end up wherever Gideon kept such things.
As for Gideon and me, we ended up in the cabana, tangled naked with each other. We sipped chilled champagne, touched each other playfully and greedily, and kissed lazily as the day crawled by.
That was perfect, too.
“So, how are we handling this when we get back?” I asked him, as we ate a candlelit dinner in the dining room of our suite. “The whole we-ran-off-and-got-hitched explanation.”
Gideon shrugged and licked melted butter off his thumb. “However you want.”
I pulled the meat out of a crab leg and considered the options. “I want to tell Cary for sure. And I think my dad will be okay with it. I kind of talked around it when I called him earlier and he told me you’d asked him, so he’s prepared. I don’t think Stanton will care much either way, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“I’m worried about my mom, though. Things are already rough between us. She’ll be totally stoked that we’re married”—I paused a minute, absorbing that for the millionth time—“but I don’t want her to think that I left her out because I’m mad at her.”
“Let’s just tell her and everyone else we’re engaged.”
I dunked the crabmeat into drawn butter, thinking I wanted to get very used to seeing Gideon shirtless and sated and relaxed. “She’ll have a conniption if we live together before the wedding.”
“Well, then she’ll have to plan fast,” he said dryly. “You’re my wife, Eva. I don’t care if anyone else knows it or not, I know it. And I want to come home to you, have coffee in the morning with you, zip up the back of your dresses, and unzip them at night.”
Watching him snap a crab leg with his hands, I asked, “Will you wear a wedding band?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
That made me smile. He paused and stared at me.
“What?” I prompted, when he didn’t say anything. “Do I have butter splashed on my face?”
He sat back with a deep exhalation. “You’re beautiful. I love looking at you.”
I felt my face heat. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“It’s starting to go away,” he murmured.
My smile faded. “What? What’s going away?”
“The … worry. It feels safe, doesn’t it?” He sipped his wine. “Settled. It’s a good feeling. I like it. A lot.”
I hadn’t had as much time to get used to the idea of being married, but as I sat back and really thought about it, I had to agree. He was mine. No one could doubt it now. “I like it, too.”
He lifted my hand to his lips. The ring he’d given me caught the candlelight and glimmered with multihued fire. It was a tastefully large Asscher-cut diamond in a vintage setting. I loved the timeless sophistication of it, but more so because it was the ring his father had married his mother with.
Even though Gideon was deeply wounded by his parents’ betrayals, their time together as a family of three was the last true happiness he remembered before meeting me.
And he swore he wasn’t romantic.
He caught me admiring the ring. “You like it.”
“I do.” I looked at him. “It’s one of a kind. I was thinking we could do something unusual with our home, too.”
“Oh?” He squeezed my hand and resumed eating.
“I understand the need to sleep apart, but I don’t like having doors and walls between us.”
“I don’t, either, but your safety comes first.”
“How about a master suite with two bedrooms connected by a bathroom with no doors. Just archways or passageways. So technically, we’re still in the same open space.”
He considered that a minute, then nodded. “Draw it up and we’ll bring in a designer to make it happen. We’ll continue staying on the Upper West Side for now while we have the penthouse refinished. Cary can take a look at the adjoining one-bedroom apartment and make any changes he wants at the same time.”
I rubbed my bare foot along the back of his calf as a thank-you. The sounds of music drifted in on the evening wind, reminding me that we weren’t alone on a deserted island.
Was Angus having a good time somewhere? Or was he stuck standing outside the door to our suite?
“Where’s Angus?” I
asked.
“Around.”
“Is Raúl here, too?”
“No. He’s in New York working out how Nathan’s bracelet ended up where it did.”
“Oh.” I suddenly lost my appetite. Picking up my napkin, I wiped my fingers. “Should I be worried?”
It was a rhetorical question, since I’d never stopped worrying. The mystery of who was responsible for sending the police in another direction was always there, niggling at the back of my mind.
“Someone handed me a get-out-of-jail-free card,” he said evenly, licking his lower lip. “I expected that was going to cost me something, but no one’s approached me yet. So, I’ll approach them.”
“Once you find them.”
“Oh, I’ll find them,” he murmured darkly. “Then we’ll know why.”
Beneath the table, I wrapped my legs around his and held on.
WE danced on the beach by the light of the moon. The lush humidity was sensuous at night, and we reveled in it. Gideon shared my bed that night, even though I could tell how difficult it was for him to take the risk. I couldn’t imagine sleeping alone on my wedding night and trusted that his prescription combined with the previous night’s lack of sleep would help him sleep deeply. It did.
Sunday, he gave me the choice of going to a fabulous waterfall or taking the resort’s catamaran out to sea or rafting down a jungle river. I smiled and told him next time, and then I had my wicked way with him.
We lazed around all day, skinny-dipping in the private pool and napping when the mood struck us. It was after midnight when we left, and I was sorry to go. The weekend had been far too short.
“We’ve got a lifetime of weekends,” he murmured as we drove back to the airport, reading my mind.
“I’m selfish with you. I want you all to myself.”
When we boarded the jet, the clothes we’d had at our disposal at the resort came with us. It made me smile, thinking of how little we’d worn over the two days.
I took the cosmetic case into the bedroom so I could brush my teeth before sleeping the duration of the flight home. That was when I saw the patent leather and brass luggage tag attached to it, engraved with Eva Cross.
Gideon slipped into the lavatory behind me and kissed my shoulder. “Let’s crash, angel. We need some sleep before work.”
Pointing at the luggage tag, I said, “Was my saying yes really that much of a foregone conclusion?”
“I was prepared to hold you hostage until you did.”
I didn’t doubt him. “I’m flattered.”
“You’re married.” He smacked me on the ass. “Now hurry up, Mrs. Cross.”
I hurried and slipped into the bed beside him. He immediately spooned behind me, tucking me close.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” I whispered, wrapping my arms over his around my middle.
His mouth curved against my neck. “My dreams already came true.”
20
IT WAS WEIRD going to work on Monday morning and having no one realize my life was profoundly different. Who knew how much saying a few words and slipping on a ring of metal could change a person’s perception of themselves?
I wasn’t just Eva, the New York newbie trying to make it on her own in the big city with her best friend. I was a mogul’s wife. I had a whole new set of responsibilities and expectations. Just thinking about it intimidated me.
Megumi stood as she buzzed me through the security doors at Waters Field & Leaman. She was dressed with unusual sedateness in a black sleeveless dress with an asymmetrical hemline and bright fuchsia heels. “Wow. You’ve got an amazing tan! I’m so jealous.”
“Thanks. How’d your weekend go?”
“Same old, same old. Michael stopped calling.” Her nose wrinkled. “I miss the harassment. Made me feel wanted.”
I shook my head at her. “You’re nuts.”
“I know. So tell me where you went. And did you go with the rock star or Cross?”
“My lips are sealed.” Although I was tempted to reveal everything. The only thing that held me back was that I hadn’t told Cary yet and he needed to come first.
“No way!” Her dark eyes narrowed. “Are you seriously not going to tell me?”
“Of course I will.” I winked. “Just not right now.”
“I know where you work, you know,” she called after me as I headed down the hallway to my cubicle.
When I reached my desk, I got ready to type a quick text to Cary and discovered that he’d sent me a few over the weekend that hadn’t come through until later. They certainly hadn’t been there when I’d placed my usual Saturday call to my dad.
Wanna have lunch? I texted.
When I didn’t get a reply right away, I silenced my phone and set it in my top drawer.
“Where did you spend the weekend?” Mark asked me as he came in to work. “You’ve got a great tan.”
“Thanks. I lazed it up in the Caribbean.”
“Really? I’ve been scoping out the islands for possible honeymoon spots. Would you recommend it for that, wherever you stayed?”
I laughed, happier than I’d been in long time. Maybe in forever. “Absolutely.”
“Get me the deets. I’ll add the spot to the list of possibilities.”
“You have honeymoon scouting duty?” I stood so we could grab coffee together before we started the day.
“Yep.” Mark’s mouth quirked on one side. “I’ll leave the wedding stuff to Steven, since he’s been planning for so long. But the honeymoon is mine.”
He sounded so happy, and I knew just how he felt. His good mood made the start of my day even better.
THE smooth sailing ended when Cary called my desk phone shortly after ten o’clock.
“Mark Garrity’s office,” I answered. “Eva Tramell—”
“—needs an ass-kicking,” Cary finished. “I can’t remember the last time I was this mad at you.”
I frowned, my stomach tightening. “Cary, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not going to talk about important shit on the phone, Eva, unlike some people I know. I’ll meet you for lunch. And just so you’re aware, I turned down a go-see this afternoon to set you straight, because that’s what friends do,” he said angrily. “They make time in their schedule to talk about things that matter. They don’t leave cutesy voice-mail messages and think that handles it!”
The line went dead. I sat there, shocked and a bit scared.
Everything in my life ground to a screeching halt. Cary was my anchor. When things weren’t right with us, I scattered real quick. And I knew it was the same for him. When we were out of touch, he started fucking up.
I dug out my cell phone and called him back.
“What?” he snapped. But it was a good sign that he’d answered.
“If I screwed up,” I said quickly, “I’m sorry and I’ll fix it. Okay?”
He made a rough sound. “You fucking piss me off, Eva.”
“Yeah, well, I’m good at pissing people off, if you haven’t noticed, but I hate when I do it to you.” I sighed. “It’s going to drive me nuts, Cary, until we can work it out. I need us solid, you know that.”
“You haven’t acted like it matters lately,” he said gruffly. “I’m an afterthought and that fucking hurts.”
“I’m always thinking about you. If I haven’t shown it, that’s my bad.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I love you, Cary. Even when I’m messing up.”
He exhaled into the receiver. “Get back to work and don’t stress about this. We’ll deal with it at lunch.”
“I’m sorry. Really.”
“See you at noon.”
I hung up and tried to concentrate, but it was hard. It was one thing having Cary angry with me; it was totally another to know I’d hurt him. I was one of the very few people in his life he trusted not to let him down.
AT eleven thirty, I received a small pile of interoffice envelopes. I was thrilled when one of them revealed a note from Gideon.
>
MY GORGEOUS, SEXY WIFE,
I NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU.
YOURS,
X
My feet tapped out a little happy dance beneath my desk. My skewed day righted itself a little.
I wrote him back.
Dark and Dangerous,
I’m madly in love with you.
Your ball and chain,
Mrs. X
I tucked it in an envelope and dropped it in my out-box.
I was drafting a reply to the artist working on a gift card campaign when my desk phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting and heard a reply in a familiar French accent.
“Eva, it’s Jean-François Giroux.”
Sitting back in my chair, I said, “Bonjour, Monsieur Giroux.”
“What time is best for us to meet today?”
What the hell did he want from me? I supposed if I wanted to know, I’d have to follow through. “Five o’clock? There’s a wine bar not too far from the Crossfire.”
“That would be fine.”
I gave him directions and he hung up, leaving me feeling somewhat whiplashed by the call. I swiveled in my chair, thinking. Gideon and I were trying to move forward with our lives, but people and issues from our pasts were still trying to hold us back. Would the announcement of our marriage, or even an engagement, change that?
God, I hoped so. But was anything ever that easy?
Glancing at the clock, I refocused on work and returned to writing my e-mail.
I was down in the lobby by five after noon, but Cary hadn’t arrived yet. As I waited for him, my nerves started getting to me. I’d gone over my brief conversation with Cary again and again and knew he was right. I had convinced myself he’d be okay with having Gideon join our living arrangements because I couldn’t imagine facing the alternative—having to choose between my best friend and my boyfriend.
And now there was no choice. I was married. Ecstatically so.
Still, I found myself grateful that I’d tucked my wedding ring into the zippered pocket of my purse. If Cary felt a growing distance between us, finding out I’d gotten hitched over the weekend wouldn’t help.
My stomach twisted. The secrets between us were mounting. I couldn’t stand it.
