If you had asked me a few months ago, I would have said I was apathetic about palm trees. I had a

new appreciation for them now that I hadn’t seen one in a while. I watched them sway gently in the warm ocean breeze and felt the kind of peace I chased but rarely caught. Seagulls competed with pigeons for the scraps under tables, while the not-too-distant crash of waves against the beach underpinned the bustle of the packed restaurant.

My best friend’s mirrored shades hid his eyes, but his smile came often and easy. My dad wore shorts and a T-shirt and had started out the meal unusually quiet. He’d loosened up after a beer and now looked as comfortable as Cary. My husband wore tan cargo pants and white T-shirt, the first time I’d ever seen him in light-colored clothing. He looked cool and relaxed in aviators, his fingers linked with mine on the arm of my chair.

“An early-evening wedding,” I thought aloud. “Around sunset. Just family and close friends.” I looked at Cary. “You’ll be the man of honor, of course.”

His mouth curled up on one side in a lazy smile. “I better be.”

I glanced at Gideon. “Do you know who you’ll ask to stand with you?”

The tightening of his lips was nearly imperceptible, but I caught it. “I haven’t decided yet.”

My happy mood dimmed a little. Was he debating whether Arnoldo would be suitable, considering the chef’s feelings toward me? It made me sad to think I might strain that relationship.

Gideon was such a private person. Although I didn’t know for sure, I suspected he was tight with his friends but that there weren’t many of them.

I squeezed his hand. “I’m going to ask Ireland to be a bridesmaid.” “She’ll like that.”

“What do we do about Christopher?” “Nothing. With luck, he won’t come.”

My dad frowned. “Who are we talking about?” “Gideon’s brother and sister,” I answered.

“You don’t get along with your brother, Gideon?”

I explained, not wanting my dad to hold anything against my husband. “Christopher’s not a nice guy.”

Gideon’s head turned toward me. He didn’t say it aloud, but I got the message: He didn’t want me speaking for him.

“He’s a total douche, you mean,” Cary interjected. “No offense, Gideon.”

“None taken.” He shrugged and then elaborated for my father. “Christopher views me as a competitor. I’d have it differently, but it’s not my choice.”

My dad nodded slowly. “That’s too bad.”

“While we’re discussing the wedding,” Gideon segued smoothly, “it would be my pleasure to provide transportation. It would give me a chance to contribute, which I’d appreciate.”

I took a deep breath, understanding—as I knew my father would—that my husband’s directness and tact made him hard to refuse.

“That’s very generous of you, Gideon.”

“It’s a standing offer. With an hour’s notice, we can have you in the air and on your way. It’ll make it easier for you and Eva to work around your schedules and maximize your time together.”

My dad didn’t answer right away. “Thank you. It might take me a while to get used to the idea. It’s a bit extravagant, and I don’t want to be a burden.”

Gideon pulled his shades off, baring his eyes. “That’s what money’s for. All I want is to make your daughter happy. Make that easy on me, Mr. Reyes. We all want to see Eva smiling as much as possible.”

It sank in then why my dad was so opposed to Stanton paying for anything. My stepdad didn’t do it for me; he did it for my mom. Gideon would only ever consider me when making decisions. I knew my dad could live with that.

I caught Gideon’s gaze and mouthed, I love you.

His grip on my hand tightened until it hurt. I didn’t mind.

My dad smiled. “Making Eva happy. How can I argue with that?”

THE smell of freshly brewed coffee brought my well-trained senses to life the following morning. I blinked up at the bedroom ceiling of my Upper West Side apartment and gave a sleepy smile when I discovered Gideon standing beside my bed, stripping out of his shirt. The sight of his leanly muscular torso and washboard abs almost made up for the fact that I’d obviously spent the night alone after falling asleep in his arms.

“Good morning,” I murmured, rolling onto my side as he pushed his pajama bottoms down and kicked them off.

Whoever said Mondays sucked had obviously never woken up to a naked Gideon Cross. “It will be,” he said, lifting the covers and sliding between the sheets with me.

I shivered as his cool skin touched mine. “Yikes!”

His arms slipped around me, and his lips touched my neck. “Warm me up, angel.”

By the time I was done with him he was sweating and the coffee he’d brought me was cold. I didn’t mind in the least.

I was in an excellent mood when I got to work. Morning sex contributed to that, of course. Also the sight of Gideon getting dressed for the day, watching him transform from the private man I knew and loved into the dark and dangerous global magnate. The day only got better when I exited on the twentieth floor and saw Megumi sitting at her desk.

I waved at her through the glass security doors, but my smile faded the moment I got a good look at her. She was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Her usually sassy asymmetrical haircut looked limp and overlong, and she was wearing a long-sleeved blouse and dark slacks that were out of place with the August mugginess.

“Hey,” I greeted her when she buzzed me through. “How are you? I’ve been worried about you.” She gave me a weak smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m totally antisocial when I get sick. I just want to curl up in bed and be left alone.”

Her lower lip quivered and her eyes grew shiny with tears.

“Are you okay?” I glanced around, worried about her privacy as other employees passed through the reception area. “Did you see a doctor?”

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 600