Bared to You

You set yourself up for this,
I reminded myself.
Suck it up.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out and was
resigned to finding Magdalene leaning against the
vanity with her arms crossed. She was clearly
there for me, lying in wait at a time when my
defenses were already weak. My step faltered;
then I recovered and made my way to the sink to
wash my hands.
She turned to face the mirror, studying my
reflection. I studied her, too. She was even more
gorgeous in person than she’d been in her
photos. Tall and slender, with big dark eyes and a
cascade of straight brown hair. Her lips were lush
and red, her cheekbones high and sculpted. Her
dress was modestly sexy, a flowing sheath of
creamy satin that contrasted beautifully with her

---

olive skin. She looked like a fucking supermodel
and exuded an exotic sex appeal.
I accepted the hand towel the bathroom
attendant handed me, and Magdalene spoke to
the woman in Spanish, asking her to give us
some privacy. I capped the request with, “
Por
favor, gracias.
” That earned me an arched brow
from Magdalene and a closer examination, which I
returned with equal coolness.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured, the moment the
attendant stepped out of earshot. She made a
tsk
ing noise that scraped over my nerves like
nails on a chalkboard. “You’ve fucked him
already.”
“And you haven’t.”
That seemed to surprise her. “You’re right, I
haven’t. You know why?”
I pulled a five-spot out of my clutch and dropped
it in the silver tip tray. “Because he doesn’t want
to.”
“And I don’t want to either, because he can’t
commit. He’s young, gorgeous, rich, and he’s
enjoying it.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “He certainly did.”
Her gaze narrowed, her pleasant expression
slipping slightly. “He doesn’t respect the women
he fucks. The minute he shoved his dick in you,
you were done. Just like all the others. But I’m still
here, because I’m the one he wants to keep
around for the long haul.”
I maintained my cool even though the blow had
been a perfect hit right where the most damage
could be done. “That’s pathetic.”
I walked out and didn’t stop until I reached
Stanton’s limousine. Squeezing Cary’s hand as I
got in, I managed to wait until the car pulled away
from the curb to start crying.

---

“Hey, baby girl,” Cary called out when I shuffled
into the living room the next morning. Dressed in
nothing but a loose pair of old sweats, he was
stretched out on the couch with his feet crossed
and propped on the coffee table. He looked
beautifully disheveled and comfortable in his own
skin. “How’d you sleep?”
I gave him the thumbs-up and headed into the
kitchen for coffee. I paused by the breakfast bar,
my brows lifting at the massive arrangement of
red roses on the counter. The fragrance was
divine and I inhaled it with a deep breath. “What’s
this?”
“They came for you about an hour ago. A
Sunday delivery. Pretty and super pricey.”
I plucked the card off the clear plastic stake and
opened it.
I’m still thinking about you.
Gideon
“From Cross?” Cary asked.
“Yes.” My thumb brushed over what I assumed
was his handwriting. It was bold and masculine
and sexy. A romantic gesture for a guy who didn’t
have romance in his repertoire. I dropped the card
on the counter as if it’d burned me and fetched a
mug of coffee, praying caffeine would give me
strength and restore my common sense.
“You don’t seem impressed.” He lowered the
volume on the football game he was watching.
“He’s bad news for me. He’s like one giant
trigger. I just need to stay away from him.” Cary
had been through therapy with me and he knew
the drill. He didn’t look at me funny when I broke
things down into therapeutic jargon, and he didn’t

---

have any trouble shooting it back to me the same
way.
“The phone’s been ringing all morning, too. I
didn’t want it to disturb you, so I shut the volume
off.”
Aware of the lingering ache between my legs, I
curled up on the couch and fought the compulsion
to listen to our voice mail to see if Gideon had
called. I wanted to hear his voice, and an
explanation that would make sense of what
happened last night. “Sounds good to me. Let’s
leave it off all day.”
“What happened?”
I blew steam off the top of my mug and took a
tentative sip. “I fucked his brains out in his limo
and he turned arctic afterward.”
Cary watched me with those worldly emerald
eyes, eyes that had seen more than anyone
should be subjected to. “Rocked his world, did
you?”
“Yeah, I did.” And I got riled up just thinking
about it. We’d connected. I 
knew
it. I’d wanted him
more than anything last night, and today I wanted
nothing to do with him ever again. “It was intense.
The best sexual experience of my life, and he was
right there with me. I know he was. First time he’d
ever made it in a car, and he was kind of resistant
at first, but then I got him so hot for it he couldn’t
say no.”
“Really? Never?” He ran a hand over his
morning stubble. “Most guys scratch car banging
off their fuck list in high school. In fact, I can’t think
of anyone who didn’t, except for the nerds and
fuglies, and he’s neither.”
I shrugged. “I guess car banging makes me a
slut.”
Cary grew very still. “Is that what he said?”
“No. He didn’t say shit. I got that from his

---

‘friend,’ Magdalene. You know that chick in most
of the photos you printed off the Internet? She
decided to sharpen her claws with a little catty girl
chat in the bathroom.”
“The bitch is jealous.”
“Sexual frustration. She can’t fuck him, because
apparently girls who fuck him go into the discard
pile.”
“Did he say that?” Again, fury laced his quiet
question.
“Not in so many words. He said he doesn’t
sleep with his female friends. He’s got issues with
women wanting more than a good time in the
sack, so he keeps the women he bangs and the
women he hangs out with in two separate camps.”
I took another sip of my coffee. “I warned him that
sort of setup wasn’t going to work for me and he
said he’d make some adjustments, but I guess
he’s one of those guys who’ll say whatever’s
necessary to get what he wants.”
“Or else you have him running scared.”
I glared. “Don’t make excuses for him. Whose
side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours, baby girl.” He reached out and patted
my knee. “Always yours.”
I wrapped my hand around his muscular
forearm and stroked my fingers gently along the
underside in silent gratitude. I couldn’t feel the
multitude of fine white scars from cutting that
marred his skin, but I never forgot they were there.
I was thankful every day that he was alive, healthy,
and a vital part of my life. “How’d your night go?”
“I can’t complain.” His eyes took on a
mischievous glint. “I shagged that busty blonde in
a maintenance closet. Her tits were real.”
“Well, then.” I smiled. “You made her night, I’m
sure.”
“I try.” He picked up the phone receiver and

---

winked at me. “What kind of delivery do you want?
Subs? Chinese? Indian?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re always hungry. If you don’t pick
something, I’ll cook and you’ll have to eat that.”
I lifted my hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. You
pick.”
I got to work twenty minutes early on Monday,
figuring I’d skip running into Gideon. When I
reached my desk without incident, I felt such relief
that I knew I was in serious trouble where he was
concerned. My moods were shifting all over the
place.
Mark arrived in high spirits, still floating from his
major successes of the week before, and we dug
right into work. I’d done some vodka market
comparisons on Sunday and he was kind enough
to go over those with me and listen to my
impressions. Mark was also assigned the account
for a new e-reader manufacturer, so we began the
initial work on that.
With such a busy morning, time flew swiftly and I
didn’t have time to think about my personal life. I
was really grateful for that. Then I answered the
phone and heard Gideon on the line. I wasn’t
prepared.
“How’s your Monday been so far?” he asked,
his voice sending a shiver of awareness through
me.
“Hectic.” I glanced at the clock and was startled
to see it was twenty minutes to noon.
“Good.” There was a pause. “I tried calling you
yesterday. I left a couple messages. I wanted to
hear your voice.”
My eyes closed on a deep breath. It had taken

---

every bit of my willpower to make it through the
day without listening to the voice mail. I’d even
enlisted Cary in the cause, telling him to restrain
me forcibly if it looked like I might succumb to the
urge. “I did the hermit thing and worked a little.”
“Did you get the flowers I sent?”
“Yes. They’re lovely. Thank you.”
“They reminded me of your dress.”
What the hell was he doing? I was beginning to
think he had multiple personality disorder. “Some
women might say that’s romantic.”
“I only care what you say.” His chair creaked as
if he’d pushed to his feet. “I thought about
stopping by…I wanted to.”
I sighed, surrendering to my confusion. “I’m glad
you didn’t.”
There was another long pause. “I deserved
that.”
“I didn’t say it to be a bitch. It’s just the truth.”
“I know. Listen…I arranged for lunch up here in
my office so we don’t waste any of the hour
leaving and getting back.”
After his parting,