I didn't recognize the Christopher on the screen. His face, his posture, his voice...it was like he was a different man.
I was grateful when my smartphone battery died and the screen abruptly winked off. Gideon wrapped his arms around me.
"Yuck," I whispered, snuggling carefully into him so I didn't get makeup on his lapel. "Majorly creepy. I feel bad for her."
He exhaled harshly. "That's Christopher."
"Asshole. That smug look on his face - Ugh." I shuddered.
Pressing his lips to my hair, he murmured, "I thought Maggie would be safe from him. Our mothers have known each other for years. I forget how much he hates me."
"Why?"
I wondered briefly if the nightmares Gideon had were related to Christopher, then I put the thought aside. No way. Gideon was older by several years and tougher all the way around. He'd kick Christopher's ass.
"He thinks I got all the attention when we were younger," Gideon said wearily, "because everyone was worried about how I was handling my father's suicide. So he wants what's mine. Everything he can get his hands on."
I turned into him, pushing my arms underneath his jacket to get closer. There was something in his voice that made me hurt for him. His family home was a place he said haunted his nightmares and he was terribly distant from his family.
He'd never been loved. It was as simple - and as complicated - as that.
"Gideon?"
"Hmm?"
I pulled back to look at him. Reaching up, I traced the bold arch of his brow. "I love you."
A violent shudder moved through him, one hard enough to shake me, too.
"I don't mean to freak you out," I reassured him quickly, averting my face to give him some privacy. "You don't have to do anything about it. I just didn't want another minute to go by without you knowing how I feel. You can tuck it away now."
One of his hands gripped my nape, the other dug almost painfully into my waist. Gideon held me there, immobile, locked against him as if I might blow away. His breathing was ragged, his heartbeat pounding. He didn't say another word the rest of the ride to work, but he didn't let me go either.
I planned on telling him again one day in the future, but as far as first times went, I thought we'd both done okay.
At ten o'clock sharp, I had two dozen long-stemmed red roses delivered to Gideon's office with the note: In celebration of red dresses and limo rides.
Ten minutes later, I received an interoffice envelope with a note card that read:
Let's do that again. Soon.
At eleven o'clock, I had a black-and-white calla lily arrangement delivered to his office with the note: In honor of black & white garden party dresses and being dragged into libraries...
Ten minutes later, I received his reply:
I'll be dragging you to the floor in a minute...
At noon, I went shopping. Ring shopping. I hit six different shops before I found a piece that struck me as being absolutely perfect. Made of platinum engraved and studded with black diamonds, it was an industrial-looking ring that made me think of power and bondage. It was a dominant ring, very bold and masculine. I had to open a new charge account with the store to cover the hefty cost, but I considered the months of payments ahead of me worth it.
I called Gideon's office and talked with Scott, who helped me arrange a fifteen-minute window in Gideon's packed day for me to stop by.
"Thank you so much for your help, Scott."
"You're very welcome. I've enjoyed watching him receive your flowers today. I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that."
A warm rush of love flowed through me. I wanted to make Gideon happy. As he'd said, I lived for it.
I went back to work with a smile of my own. At two o'clock, I had a tiger lily arrangement delivered to Gideon's office followed by a private note sent via interoffice envelope:
In gratitude for all the jungle sex.
His reply:
Skip the Krav Maga. I'll give you a workout.
When three forty rolled around - five minutes before my appointment with Gideon - I got nervous. I stood up from my chair on shaky legs and paced in the elevator on the way up to his floor. Now that the time had come to give him my gift, I worried that maybe he didn't like rings...after all, he didn't wear any.
Was it too presumptuous and possessive of me to want him to wear one just because I did?
The redheaded receptionist didn't give me any trouble getting in and when Scott spotted me emerging from the hallway, he stood from his desk and greeted me with a wide grin. When I stepped into Gideon's office, Scott closed the door behind me.
I was immediately struck by the lovely fragrance of the flowers and the way they warmed the starkly modern office.
Gideon looked up from his monitor, his brows lifting when he saw me. He pushed fluidly to his feet. "Eva. Is something wrong?"
I watched him shift gears from professional to personal, his gaze softening as he looked at me.
"No. It's just..." I took a deep breath and went to him. "I have something for you."
"More? Did I forget a special occasion?"
I set the ring box down in the center of his desk. Then I turned away, feeling queasy. I seriously doubted the wisdom of my impetuous gift. It seemed like a stupid idea now.
What could I say to absolve him of guilt for not wanting it? As if it wasn't bad enough I'd dropped the "L" bomb on him today; then I had to follow it up with a damned ring. He was probably feeling the ball and chain already, dragging after him as he ran. And the noose tightening -
I heard the ring box snap open and Gideon's sharply drawn breath. "Eva."
His voice was dark and dangerous. I turned carefully, wincing at the austerity of his features and the starkness of his gaze. His hands were white-knuckled on the box.
