Bared to You

Dear God…
The ding that signaled the approaching elevator
made me jump, I was strung so tight. I’d never
been so aroused. Never been so scorchingly
attracted to another human being. Never been so
offended by a person I lusted after.
I stepped into the elevator and faced him.
He smiled. “Until next time, Eva.”
The doors closed and I sagged into the brass
handrail, trying to regain my bearings. I’d barely
pulled myself together when the doors opened
and revealed Mark pacing in the waiting area on
our floor.
“Jesus, Eva,” Mark muttered, coming to an
abrupt halt. “What the hell was that?”
“I have no freakin’ clue.” I exhaled in a rush,
wishing I could share the confusing, irritating
exchange I’d had with Cross, but well aware that
my boss wasn’t the appropriate outlet. “Who
cares? You know he’s going to give you the
account.”
A grin chased away his frown. “I’m thinking he
might.”
“As my roommate always says, you should
celebrate. Should I make dinner reservations for
you and Steven?”
“Why not? Pure Food and Wine at seven, if they
can squeeze us in. If not, surprise us.”
We’d barely returned to Mark’s office when he
was pounced on by the executives—Michael
Waters, the CEO and president, and Christine
Field and Walter Leaman, the executive chairman
and vice chairman.

---

I skirted the four of them as quietly as possible
and slid into my cubicle.
I called Pure Food and Wine and begged for a
table for two. After some serious groveling and
pleading, the hostess finally caved.
I left a message on Mark’s voice mail, “It’s
definitely your lucky day. You’re booked for dinner
at seven. Have fun!”
Then I clocked out, eager to get home.
“He said 
what
?” Cary sat on the opposite end of
our white sectional sofa and shook his head.
“I know, right?” I enjoyed another sip of my wine.
It was a crisp and nicely chilled sauvignon blanc
I’d picked up on the walk home. “That was my
reaction, too. I’m still not sure I didn’t hallucinate
the conversation while overdosing on his
pheromones.”
“So?”
I tucked my legs beneath me on the couch and
leaned into the corner. “So what?”
“You know what, Eva.” Grabbing his netbook off
the coffee table, Cary propped it on his crossed
legs. “Are you going to tap that or what?”
“I don’t even 
know
him. I don’t even know his
first name and he threw that curveball at me.”
“He knew yours.” He started typing on his
keyboard. “And what about the thing with the
vodka? Asking for your boss in particular?”
The hand I was running through my loose hair
stilled. “Mark is very talented. If Cross has any sort
of business sense at all, he’d pick up on that and
exploit it.”
“I’d say he knows business.” Cary spun his
netbook around and showed me the home page
of Cross Industries, which boasted an awesome

---

photo of the Crossfire. “That’s his building, Eva.
Gideon Cross owns it.”
Damn it.
My eyes closed. 
Gideon Cross.
I
thought the name suited him. It was as sexy and
elegantly masculine as the man himself.
“He has people to handle marketing for his
subsidiaries. Probably dozens of people to
handle it.”
“Stop talking, Cary”
“He’s hot, rich, and wants to jump your bones.
What’s the problem?”
I looked at him. “It’s going to be awkward
running into him all the time. I’m hoping to hang on
to my job for a long while. I really like it. I really like
Mark. He’s totally involved me in the process and
I’ve learned so much from him already.”
“Remember what Dr. Travis says about
calculated risks? When your shrink tells you to
take some, you should take some. You can deal
with it. You and Cross are both adults.” He turned
his attention back to his Internet search. “Wow.
Did you know he doesn’t turn thirty for another two
years? Think of the stamina.”
“Think of the rudeness. I’m offended by how he
just threw it out there. I hate feeling like a vagina
with legs.”
Cary paused and looked up at me, his eyes
softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry, baby girl.
You’re so strong, so much stronger than I am. I just
don’t see you carrying around the baggage I do.”
“I don’t think I am, most of the time.” I looked
away because I didn’t want to talk about what
we’d been through in our pasts. “It’s not like I
wanted him to ask me out on a date. But there has
to be a better way to tell a woman you want to
take her to bed.”
“You’re right. He’s an arrogant douche. Let him
lust after you until he has blue balls. Serves him

---

right.”
That made me smile. Cary could always do
that. “I doubt that man has ever had blue balls in
his life, but it’s a fun fantasy.”
He shut his netbook with a decisive snap.
“What should we do tonight?”
“I was thinking I’d like to go check out that Krav
Maga studio in Brooklyn.” I’d done a little research
after meeting Parker Smith during my workout at
Equinox and as the week passed, the thought of
having that kind of raw, physical outlet for stress
seemed more and more ideal.
I knew it wouldn’t be anything close to banging
the hell out of Gideon Cross, but I suspected it
would be a lot less dangerous to my health.

---

“T
here’s no way your mom and Stanton are going
to let you come out here at night multiple times a
week,” Cary said, hugging his stylish denim jacket
around him even though it wasn’t more than
slightly chilly.
The converted warehouse Parker Smith used
as his studio was a brick-faced building in a
formerly industrial area of Brooklyn presently
struggling to revitalize. The space was vast, and
the massive metal delivery-bay doors offered no
exterior clue as to what was taking place inside.
Cary and I sat in aluminum bleachers, watching a
half-dozen combatants on the mats below.
“Ouch.” I winced in sympathy as a guy took a
kick to the groin. Even with padding, that had to
sting. “How’s Stanton going to find out, Cary?”
“Because you’ll be in the hospital?” He glanced
at me. “Seriously. Krav Maga is brutal. They’re just
sparring and it’s full contact. And even if the
bruises don’t give you away, your stepdad will find

---

out somehow. He always does.”
“Because of my mom; she tells him everything.
But I’m not telling her about this.”
“Why not?”
“She won’t understand. She’ll think I want to
protect myself because of what happened, and
she’ll feel guilty and give me grief about it. She
won’t believe my main interest is exercise and
stress relief.”
I propped my chin on my palm and watched
Parker take the floor with a woman. He was a
good instructor. Patient and thorough, and he
explained things in an easy to understand way.
His studio was in a rough neighborhood, but I
thought it suited what he was teaching. It didn’t get
more “reality based” than a big, empty
warehouse.
“That Parker guy is really hot,” Cary murmured.
“He’s also wearing a wedding band.”
“I noticed. The good ones always get snatched
up quick.”
Parker joined us after the class was over, his
dark eyes bright and his smile brighter. “What’d
ya think, Eva?”
“Where do I sign up?”
His sexy smile made Cary reach over and
squeeze the blood out of my hand.
“Step this way.”
Friday started out awesome. Mark walked me
through the process of collecting information for
an RFP, and he told me a little more about Cross
Industries and Gideon Cross, pointing out that he
and Cross were the same age.
“I have to remind myself of that,” Mark said. “It’s
easy to forget he’s so young when he’s right in

---

front of you.”
“Yes,” I agreed, secretly disappointed that I
wouldn’t see Cross for the next two days. As much
as I told myself it didn’t matter, I was bummed. I
hadn’t realized I’d been excited by the possibility
that we might run into each other until that
possibility was gone. It was just such a rush being
near him. Plus he was a hell of a lot of fun to look
at. I had nothing nearly as exciting planned for the
weekend.
I was taking notes in Mark’s office when I heard
my desk phone ringing. Excusing myself, I rushed
over to catch it. “Mark Garrity’s office—”
“Eva love. How are you?”
I sank into my chair at the sound of my
stepfather’s voice. Stanton always sounded like
old money to me—cultured, entitled, and arrogant.
“Richard. Is everything okay? Is Mom all right?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine. Your mother is
wonderful, as always.”
His tone softened when he spoke of his wife
and I was grateful for that. I was grateful to him for
a lot of things actually, but it was sometimes hard
to balance that against my feelings of disloyalty. I
knew my dad was self-conscious about the
massive differences in their income brackets.
“Good,” I said, relieved. “I’m glad. Did you and
Mom receive my thank-you note for the dress and
Cary’s tuxedo?”
“Yes, and it was thoughtful of you, but you know
we don’t expect you to thank us for such things.
Excuse me a moment.” He spoke to someone,
most likely his secretary. “Eva love, I’d like us to
get together for lunch today. I’ll send Clancy
around to collect you.”
“Today? But we’ll be seeing each other
tomorrow night. Can’t it wait until then?”
“No, it should be today.”

---

“But I only get an hour for lunch.”
A tap on my shoulder turned me around to find
Mark standing by my cubicle. “Take two,” he
whispered. “You earned it.”
I sighed and mouthed a thank you. “Will twelve
o’clock work, Richard?”
“Perfectly. I look forward to seeing you.”
I had no reason to look forward to private
meetings with Stanton, but I dutifully left just before
noon and found a town car waiting for me, idling at
the curb. Clancy, Stanton’s driver and body guard,
opened the door for me as I greeted him. Then he
slid behind the wheel and drove me downtown. By
twenty after the hour, I was sitting at a conference
table in Stanton’s offices, eyeing a beautifully
catered lunch for two.
Stanton came in shortly after my arrival, looking
dapper and distinguished. His hair was pure
white, his face lined but still very handsome. His
eyes were the color of worn blue denim, and they
were sharp with intelligence. He was trim and
athletic, taking the time out of his busy days to
stay fit even before he’d married his trophy wife—
my mom.
I stood as he approached, and he bent to kiss
my cheek. “You look lovely, Eva.”
“Thank you.” I looked like my mom, who was
also a natural blonde. But my gray eyes came
from my dad.
Taking a chair at the head of the table, Stanton
was aware that the requisite backdrop of the New
York skyline was behind him and he took
advantage of its impressiveness.
“Eat,” he said, with the command so easily
wielded by all men of power. Men like Gideon
Cross.
Had Stanton been as driven at Cross’s age?
I picked up my fork and started in on a chicken,

---

cranberry, walnut, and feta salad. It was delicious,
and I was hungry. I was glad Stanton didn’t start
talking right away so I could enjoy the meal, but
the reprieve didn’t last long.
“Eva love, I wanted to discuss your interest in
Krav Maga.”
I froze. “Excuse me?”
Stanton took a sip of iced water and leaned
back, his jaw taking on the rigidity that warned me
I wouldn’t like what he was about to say. “Your
mother was quite distraught last night when you
went to that studio in Brooklyn. It took some time
to calm her down and to assure her that I could
make arrangements for you to pursue your
interests in a safe manner. She doesn’t want—”
“Wait.” I set my fork down carefully, my appetite
gone. “How did she know where I was?”
“She tracked your cell phone.”
“No way,” I breathed, deflating into my seat. The
casualness of his reply, as if it was the most
natural thing in the world, made me feel ill. My
stomach churned, suddenly more interested in
rejecting my lunch than digesting it. “That’s why
she insisted I use one of your company phones. It
had nothing to do with saving me money.”
“Of course that was part of it. But it also gives
her peace of mind.”
“Peace of mind? To spy on her grown
daughter? It’s not healthy, Richard. You’ve got to
see that. Is she still seeing Dr. Petersen?”
He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Yes,
of course.”
“Is she telling him what she’s doing?”
“I don’t know,” he said stiffly. “That’s Monica’s
private business. I don’t interfere.”
No, he didn’t. He coddled her. Indulged her.
Spoiled her. And allowed her obsession with my
safety to run wild. “She has to let it go. 
I’ve
let it

---

go.”
“You were an innocent, Eva. She feels guilty for
not protecting you. We need to give her a little
latitude.”
“Latitude? She’s a stalker!” My mind spun. How
could my mom invade my privacy like that? 
Why
would she? She was driving herself crazy, and me
along with her. “This has to stop.”
“It’s an easy fix. I’ve already spoken with Clancy.
He’ll drive you when you need to venture into
Brooklyn. Everything’s been arranged. This will be
much more convenient for you.”
“Don’t try to twist this around to being for my
benefit.” My eyes stung and my throat burned with
unshed tears of frustration. I hated the way he
talked about Brooklyn like it was a third-world
country. “I’m a grown woman. I make my own
decisions. It’s the goddamn law!”
“Don’t take that tone with me, Eva. I’m simply
looking after your mother. And you.”
I pushed back from the table. “You’re enabling
her. You’re keeping her sick, and you’re making
me sick, too.”
“Sit down. You need to eat. Monica worries that
you’re not eating healthy enough.”
“She worries about