He was such a strong, physically powerful man, and yet he could touch me with such reverence.
I ducked my head, knowing something in my voice had given me away.
He was too perceptive.
Cupping my jaw in his hands, Gideon tipped my head back and searched my face.
"Talk to me."
"I feel like you're pulling away."
A low growl rumbled through the air between us.
"I've got a lot on my mind.
That doesn't mean I'm not thinking about you."
"I feel it, Gideon.
There's distance between us that wasn't there before."
His hands slid down to my neck, wrapping around it.
"There's no distance.
You've got me by the throat, Eva."
His grip tightened fractionally.
"Can't you feel that?" I sucked in a quick, tight breath.
Agitation spurred my heartbeat, a physical response to fear that came entirely from within and not from Gideon, who I knew absolutely would never physically harm me or put me in danger.
"Sometimes," he said huskily, watching me with searing intensity, "I can hardly breathe."
I might've broken free if not for his eyes, which revealed such yearning and turmoil.
He was making me feel the same loss of power, the same sense of being dependent on someone else for every breath I took.
So I did the opposite of running.
Tilting my head back, I surrendered, and the tingles of fear left me in a rush.
I was learning that Gideon was right about my desire to give up control to him.
Doing so soothed something inside me, some need I hadn't realized I possessed.
There was a long pause, filled only by his breathing.
I sensed him warring with his emotions and wondered what they were, wondered why he was so conflicted.
He released the tension with a deep exhalation.
"What do you need, Eva?" "You - a mile high."
His hands slid over my shoulders and squeezed, then caressed the length of my arms.
His fingers linked with mine and he nuzzled our temples together.