“Then don’t.” He kissed me with heartrending tenderness. “Let’s eat, before the food gets cold.”
I changed into a Cross Industries T-shirt and a pair of Gideon’s pajama bottoms that I rolled up at the ankles. We took candles over to the coffee table and ate cross-legged on the floor. Gideon kept my favorite sweater on but swapped his slacks for a pair of black lounging pants.
Licking a dab of tomato sauce off my lip, I told him about the rest of my day. “Mark’s gathering the nerve to ask his partner to marry him.”
“If I’m remembering correctly, they’ve been together awhile.”
“Since college.”
Gideon’s mouth curved. “I suppose it’s still a tough question to ask, even if the answer is a sure thing.”
I looked down at my plate. “Was Corinne nervous when she asked you?”
“Eva.” He waited until the lengthy silence brought my head up. “We’re not going to talk about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter.”
I searched his face. “How would you feel if you knew there was someone out there I’d said yes to? Theoretically.”
He shot me an irritated look. “That would be different because you wouldn’t say yes unless the guy really meant something to you. What I felt was … panic. The feeling didn’t go away until she broke the engagement.”
“Did you buy her a ring?” The thought of him shopping for a ring for another woman hurt me. I looked down at my hand, at the ring he’d bought for me.
“Nothing like that one,” he said quietly.
My hand fisted, guarding it.
Reaching over, Gideon set his right hand over mine. “I bought Corinne’s ring in the first store I went to. I had nothing in mind, so I picked one that looked like her mother’s. Very different circumstances, don’t you agree?”
“Yes.” I hadn’t designed the ring Gideon wore, but I’d searched six shops before I found the right one. It was platinum studded with black diamonds, and it reminded me of my lover, with its cool masculine elegance and bold, dominant style.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing. “I’m an ass.”
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “So am I, on occasion.”
That made me grin. “I think Mark and Steven are perfect for each other, but Mark has this theory that men get the urge to marry, and then it goes away if it isn’t acted on quickly enough.”
“I would think it’d be more about the right partner than the right time.”
“I’ve got my fingers crossed for it to work out for them.” I picked up my wine. “Want to watch TV?”
Gideon leaned his back against the front of the sofa. “I just want to be with you, angel. I don’t care what we’re doing.”
WE cleaned up the mess from dinner together. As I reached for the rinsed dish Gideon held out for me to put in the dishwasher, he faked me out. He grabbed my hand instead and deftly set the plate on the counter. Catching me around the waist, he spun us into a dance. From the living room, I caught the strains of something beautiful laced with a woman’s pure, haunting voice.
“Who is this?” I asked, already breathless from the feel of Gideon’s powerful body flexing against mine. The desire that always smoldered between us flared, making me feel vibrant and alive. Every nerve ending sensitized, preparing for his touch. Hunger coiled tight with heated anticipation.
“No clue.” He swept me around the island and into the living room.
I surrendered to his masterful lead, loving that dancing was a passion we shared and awed by the obvious joy he felt in just being with me. That same pleasure effervesced within me, lightening my steps until it felt like we were gliding. As we approached the sound system, the music rose in volume. I heard the words dark and dangerous in the lyrics and stumbled in surprise.
“Too much wine, angel?” Gideon teased, pulling me closer.
But my attention was riveted to the music. The singer’s pain. A tormented relationship she likened to loving a ghost. The words reminded me of the days when I believed I’d lost Gideon forever, and my heart ached.
I looked up into his face. He was watching me with dark, glittering eyes.