Bared to You

too
much
…
Revulsion made my spine stiffen.
“Don’t put Eva on the spot,” Gideon said,
rubbing his knuckles against my tense back.
“You’ve gotten what you wanted—you’ve met her.”
“Perhaps you’ll both come to dinner later this
week?”
His only answer was an arched brow. Then his
gaze lifted, luring my attention to follow it. I found
Cary emerging from what appeared to be a
hedgerow maze with a very recognizable pop
princess on his arm. Gideon gestured him over.
“Oh, not Cary, too!” Elizabeth protested. “He’s
the life of the party.”
“I thought you might like him.” Gideon bared his
teeth in something that was too sharp to be a
smile. “Just remember that he’s Eva’s friend,
Mother. That makes him mine as well.”
I was hugely relieved when Cary joined us,
breaking the tension in his easygoing way.
“I was looking for you,” he said to me. “I was
hoping you’d be ready to go. I got that call I was
expecting.”
Looking into his sparkling eyes, I knew Trey had
reached him. “Yes, we’re ready.”
Cary and I walked around to say our good-byes
and offer our thanks. Gideon remained at my side
like a possessive shadow, his demeanor calm but
markedly aloof.
We were all walking toward the house when I
spotted Ireland off to the side staring at Gideon. I
stopped and looked up at him. “Go get your sister

---

so we can say good-bye.”
“What?”
“She’s standing to your left.” I looked to our right
to hide my prodding from the young girl whom I
suspected might hero-worship her eldest brother.
He gestured Ireland over with a brusque wave
of his hand. She took her time ambling over, her
pretty face schooled into an expression of militant
boredom. I looked at Cary with a shake of my
head, remembering those days all too well.
“Listen.” I squeezed Gideon’s wrist. “Tell her
you’re sorry you two didn’t get to catch up while
you were here and she should call you sometime,
if she wants.”
Gideon shot me an arch look. “Catch up on
what?”
Rubbing his biceps, I said, “She’ll do all the
talking if given a chance.”
He scowled. “She’s a teenage girl. Why would I
give her a chance to talk my ear off?”
I pushed onto my tiptoes and whispered in his
ear, “Because I’ll owe you one.”
“You’re up to something.” He eyed me warily for
a moment; then pressed a hard kiss to my lips
with a growl. “So we’ll leave it open and say you
owe me more than one. Quantity to be
determined.”
I nodded. Cary rocked back on his heels and
twirled one index finger around another in a sign
meaning 
wrapped around your finger.
Only fair,
I thought, since he was wrapped
around my heart.
I was surprised when Gideon accepted the keys
to the Bentley SUV from one of the valets. “
You
drove? Where’s Angus?”

---

“Day off.” He nuzzled against my temple. “I
missed you, Eva.”
I settled into the front passenger seat, and he
shut the door behind me. As I secured my seat
belt, I saw him pause by the hood, making eye
contact with two men dressed in black who waited
beside a sleek black Mercedes sedan at the end
of the drive. They nodded and got in the Benz.
When Gideon pulled out of the Vidal driveway,
they followed directly behind us.
“Security detail?” I asked.
“Yes. I took off fast when I was told you were
here, and they lost the tail for a while.”
Cary went home with Clancy, so Gideon and I
headed straight to the penthouse. I found myself
getting turned on from watching Gideon drive. He
handled the luxury vehicle the way he handled
everything—confidently, aggressively, and with
skillful control. He drove fast but not recklessly,
weaving easily over the curves and straightaways
of the scenic route back to the city. There was
almost no traffic until we hit the gridlock of
Manhattan.
When we arrived at his apartment, we both
went straight into the master bathroom and
undressed for a shower. As if he couldn’t stop
touching me, Gideon washed me from head to
toe; then he dried me with a towel and wrapped
me in a new robe of embroidered teal silk with
kimono sleeves. He finished by pulling a pair of
similarly hued drawstring silk pants out of a
drawer for himself.
“Don’t I get panties?” I asked, thinking about my
drawer of sexy underwear.
“No. There’s a phone hanging on the wall in the
kitchen. Hit speed dial one and tell the man who
answers that I want him to pick up double my
usual dinner order from Peter Luger.”

---

“All right.” I headed out to the living room and
made the call; then I had to search for Gideon. I
found him in his home office, a room I hadn’t been
in before.
I didn’t get a good look at the space at first
because the only lighting came from an angled
picture light on the wall and a barrister’s lamp on
his polished wood desk. Plus my eyes were more
interested in focusing on him. He looked utterly
sensual and compelling sprawled in his big black
leather chair. He held a tulip glass of some liquor
that he warmed between his hands and the beauty
of his flexing biceps sent tingles racing through
me, as did the tight lacing of muscles on his
abdomen.
His gaze was on the wall illuminated by the
picture light, which snagged my attention, too. I
was startled when I saw the art—a huge collage of
blown-up photos of him and me: the picture of our
kiss on the street outside the gym…a shot of us
from the press gauntlet at the advocacy dinner…a
candid of the tender aftermath of our fight in
Bryant Park…
The focal point was the image in the center that
had been taken while I slept in my own bed, lit only
by the candle I’d left burning for him. It was an
intimate voyeuristic shot, one that said more
about the photographer than it did the subject.
I was deeply touched by the proof that he’d
been falling along with me.
Gideon gestured at the drink he’d poured for
me in advance and set on the edge of his desk.
“Have a seat.”
I complied, curious. There was an edge to him
that was new, a sense of purpose and calm
determination paired with laser-precise focus.
What brought on his mood? And what did it
mean for the rest of our evening?

---

Then I saw the small photo collage frame lying
on the desktop next to my drink and my worry
faded. The frame was very similar to the one
already on my desk, but this one held three photos
of Gideon and me together.
“I want you to take that to work,” he said quietly
“Thank you.” For the first time in days, I was
happy. I hugged the frame to my chest with one
hand, and picked up my glass with the other.
His eyes glittered as he watched me take a
seat. “You blow kisses at me all day from your
picture on my desk. I think it’s only fair that you be
equally reminded of me. Of us.”
I exhaled in a rush, my heartbeat not quite
steady. “I never forget about you or us.”
“I wouldn’t let you if you tried.” Gideon took a
deep drink, his throat working on a swallow. “I
think I’ve figured out where we made our first
misstep, the one that’s led to all the stumbles
we’ve had since.”
“Oh?”
“Take a drink of your Armagnac, angel. I think
you’ll need it.”
I took a cautious sip of the liquor, feeling the
instantaneous burn, followed by recognition that I
liked the flavor. I took a bigger drink.
Rolling his glass between his palms, Gideon
took another drink and eyed me thoughtfully. “Tell
me which was hotter, Eva: sex in the limo when
you were in charge or sex in the hotel when I
was?”
I shifted restlessly, unsure of where the
conversation was leading. “I thought you enjoyed
what happened in the limo. While it was
happening, I mean. Obviously not later.”
“I loved it,” he said with quiet conviction. “The
image of you in that red dress, moaning and
telling me how good my cock feels inside you, will

---

haunt me as long as I live. If you’d like to top me
again in the future, I’m definitely game.”
My stomach tensed. The muscles in my
shoulders began to knot. “Gideon, I’m starting to
freak out a little. All this talk of safewords and
topping…it feels like this conversation is leading
somewhere I can’t go.”
“You’re thinking of bondage and pain. I’m
talking about a consensual power exchange.”
Gideon studied me intently. “Would you like more
brandy? You’re very pale.”
“You think?” I set the drained glass down. “It
sounds like you’re telling me you’re a Dominant.”
“Angel, you knew that already.” His mouth
curved in a soft, sexy smile. “What I’m telling you
is that you’re submissive.”

---

I
pushed to my feet in a rush.
“Don’t,” he warned in a dark purr. “You’re not
running yet. We’re not done.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Being under someone else’s thumb—