“I’ll explain,” I told her, as I took her elbow and led her to the elevator.
We rode up in silence. When the car doors opened into our private foyer, I felt her tense beneath my hand. We hadn’t been to the penthouse together in nearly a month. The last time we’d been in the foyer had been the night she confronted me about Nathan’s death.
I’d been afraid then, too. Terrified I had done something she couldn’t forgive me for.
We’d had many explosive moments here. The penthouse hadn’t seen as much joy and love between us as the secret apartment on the Upper West Side. But we would change that. One day, we would look back and this place would remind us of all the steps in our journey together, good and bad. I refused to envision anything else.
I opened the door, gesturing her in before me. She dropped her purse into an armchair and kicked off her shoes. I shrugged out of my jacket, hung it on the back of one of the bar stools in the kitchen, and then pulled a shiraz off the wine rack.
“You’re disappointed in me,” I called out, uncorking the wine.
Eva padded to the open archway and leaned against the tumbled stone. “No, not in you.”
Retrieving a decanter and two glasses, I considered my reply. It was difficult bargaining with my wife. In every other deal, I went in with the knowledge that I could take it or leave it. There was no agreement anywhere I couldn’t walk away from.
Except those that endangered my hold on Eva.
As I poured the wine from its bottle into the decanter, she joined me at the island.
Her hand came to rest on my shoulder. “We haven’t been together long, Gideon, and you’ve come so far already. I’m not going to push you to go farther so soon. These things take time.”
I let the decanted wine sit and turned to face her, pulling her close. She’d felt so far away the last hour or so and the distance had been killing me.
“Kiss me,” I murmured.
Tilting her head back, Eva lifted her mouth to me. I pressed my lips to hers but otherwise did nothing else, wanting her to be the one to reach out. Needing her to be.
The stroke of her tongue over the seam of my lips made me groan. The feel of her fingers sliding into the hair at my nape soothed me. There was an apology in the softness of her lips gliding across mine and love in her quiet moan of surrender.
I caught her up, lifting her feet from the floor, so relieved she still wanted me that I felt dizzy with it. “Eva . . . I’m sorry.”
“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” She pulled back and touched my face, cupping it in both hands. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”
The back of my throat burned. I lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her spread legs. Her skirt rose up, baring the ends of her garters. I wanted her. In every way.
My forehead touched hers. “You’re upset that I didn’t want to talk about Chris.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to avoid it so completely, that’s all.” She kissed my brow, her fingers brushing the hair from my face. “I should’ve considered the possibility, considering how angry you were when we left the Crossfire.”
“Not with you.”
“At Chris?”
“At the situation.” I exhaled roughly. “You’re expecting people to change and that doesn’t happen. In the meantime, you’re stirring up trouble at a time when we’ve got enough on our plates. I just want to have some peace with you, Eva. Days when we’re alone and happy and free of any bullshit.”
“And nights where you go to sleep in another bed? In another room?”
My eyes squeezed shut. “Is that what this is all about?”
“Not completely, but some of it, yeah. Gideon, I want to be with you. Waking and sleeping.”
“I understand, but—”
“That peace you’re looking for? You’re pretending you have it during the day and suffering without it at night. It’s tearing you up from the inside, and it’s shredding me watching it happen to you. I don’t want you to live like this forever. I don’t want us to live forever like this.”
I looked at her, my soul bared to those amazing steel-colored eyes that didn’t let me hide anything. There was so much love in the look she gave me. Love and worry, disappointment and hope. The pendant lamps over the island backlit her blond hair, reminding me of how precious she was. A gift I’d never expected.
“Eva . . . I am talking to Dr. Petersen about the nightmares.”