“Deanna Johnson,” she answered briskly.
“Deanna, it’s Eva Tramell.”
“Eva, hi.” The tone of her voice changed, assuming a friendliness we hadn’t yet established. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?” Studying Gideon, I tried to see if hearing her voice had any effect whatsoever. He glared back, looking deliciously pissed off. I’d become resigned to the fact that whatever his mood, I always found him irresistible.
“Things are churning. In my line of work that’s always good.”
“So is getting your facts straight.”
“Which is one of the reasons I called you. I have a source who claims Gideon walked in on a ménage composed of you, your roommate, and another guy, and flew into a rage. The guy ended up in the hospital and is now pressing assault charges. Is that true?”
I froze, my hearing drowned by my roaring blood. The night I’d met Corinne, I’d come home to find Cary in a four-body sexual tangle that included a guy named Ian. When Ian had lewdly—and na**dly—propositioned me to join them, Gideon had refused the offer with his fist.
I looked at Gideon and my stomach cramped. It was true. He was being sued. I could see the proof of it in his face, which was devoid of all emotion, his thoughts hidden behind a flawless mask. “No, it’s not true,” I answered.
“Which part?”
“I have nothing further to say to you.”
“I also have a firsthand account of an altercation between Gideon and Brett Kline, allegedly over you being caught in a hot clinch with Kline. Is that true?”
My knuckles whitened as I gripped the edge of the counter.
“Your roommate was recently assaulted,” she went on. “Did Gideon have anything to do with that?”
Oh my God … “You’re out of your mind,” I said coldly.
“The footage of you and Gideon arguing in Bryant Park shows him being very aggressive and physically rough with you. Are you in an abusive relationship with Gideon Cross? Is he violent with an uncontrollable temper? Are you afraid of him, Eva?”
Gideon spun on his heel and walked away, striding down the hallway and turning into his home office.
“Fuck you, Deanna,” I bit out. “You’re going to rip an innocent man’s reputation apart because you can’t deal with casual sex? Way to represent the sophisticated modern woman.”
“He answered the phone,” she hissed, “before he was done. He answered the f**king phone and started talking about an inspection at one of his properties. Midconversation he looked at me lying there waiting for him and he said, ‘You can go.’ Just like that. He treated me like a whore, only I didn’t get paid. He didn’t even offer me a drink.”
I closed my eyes. Jesus. “I’m sorry, Deanna. I mean that sincerely. I’ve met my share of a**holes and it sounds like he was one to you. But what you’re doing is wrong.”
“It’s not wrong if it’s true.”
“But it’s not.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this, Eva.”
“No, you’re not.” I hit the end button and stood with my head bent, holding on to the counter while the room spun around me.
8
I FOUND GIDEON pacing like a caged panther behind his desk. He had an earpiece in his ear and he was either listening or on hold, since he wasn’t talking. He caught my eye, his face hard and unyielding. Even dressed in boxer briefs, he seemed invulnerable. No one would be fool enough to take him for anything else. Physically, his power was evident in every slab of muscle. Beyond that, he radiated a ruthless menace that sent a chill down my spine.
The indolent, well-pleasured male I’d eaten dinner with was gone, replaced by an urban predator who dominated his competition.
I left him to it.
Gideon’s tablet was what I wanted, and I found it in his briefcase. It was password protected and I stared at the screen for a long while, startled to realize I was shaking. Everything I’d feared was happening.
“Angel.”