Reflected in You

He lifted my hand to his lips to kiss my fingertips.



"And I don't care what anyone else thinks.



We've got our own rhythm and it works for us."



"Does it work for you?" I grabbed my bottle of iced tea off the coffee table and took a drink.



"I know it drains you.



Do you ever think it's just too hard or too painful?" "You do realize how suggestive that sounds, right?" "Oh my God."



I laughed.



"You're terrible."



His eyes sparkled with amusement.



"That's not what you usually say."



Shaking my head, I went back to eating.



"I'd rather argue with you, angel, than laugh with anyone else."



Jesus.



It took me a minute to be able to swallow the last bite in my mouth.



"You know .



I love you madly."



He smiled.



"Yes, I know."



* * *



After we'd cleaned up the mess from lunch, I tossed the sponge into the sink and said, "I need to make my Saturday phone call to my dad."



Gideon shook his head.



"Not possible.



You'll have to wait 'til Monday."



"Huh? Why?" He caged me to the counter by gripping the edge on either side of me.



"No phones."



"Are you serious? What about your cell phone?" I'd left mine at home before we went to the concert, knowing I had no place to carry it and having no intention of using it anyway.



"It's heading back to New York with the limo.



No Internet, either.



I had the modem and phones taken out before we got here."



I was speechless.



With all the responsibilities and commitments he had, cutting himself off for the weekend was .



unbelievable.



"Wow.



When's the last time you fell off the face of the earth like this?" "Hmm .



that would be never."



"There have to be at least a half dozen people freaking out because they can't run something by you."



He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.



"They'll deal with it."



Pleasure surged through me.



"I have you all to myself?" "Completely."



His mouth curved in a wicked smile.



"What will you do with me, angel?" I smiled back, ecstatically happy.



"I'm sure I'll think of something."



* * *



We went for a walk on the beach.



I rolled up a pair of Gideon's pajama bottoms and put on my white tank top, which was indecent since my bra was heading back to New York along with Gideon's cell phone.



"I have died and gone to heaven," he pronounced, checking out my chest as we strolled along the shore, "where the embodiment of every wet-dream, spank-bank fantasy of my adolescence is real and totally mine."



I bumped my shoulder into his.



"How do you go from devastatingly romantic to crude in the space of an hour?" "It's another one of my many talents."



His gaze dropped again to the prominent points of my nipples, which were hard from exposure to the ocean breeze.



He squeezed my hand and gave an exaggerated happy sigh.



"Heaven with my angel.



It doesn't get any better than this."



I had to agree.



The beach was beautiful in a moody, untamed way that reminded me a lot of the man whose hand I held.



The sounds of the surf and the crying of the gulls filled me with a unique sense of contentment.



The water was cold on my bare feet, and the wind whipped my hair across my face.



It had been a long time since I'd felt so good, and I was grateful to Gideon for giving us this time away to enjoy each other.



We were perfect together when we were alone.



"You like it here," he noted.



"I've always loved being close to the water.



My mother's second husband had a lake house.



I remember walking along the shore like this with her and thinking I'd buy something on the water for myself one day."



He released my hand and draped his arm around my shoulders instead.



"So let's do it.



How about this place? You like it?" I glanced up at him, loving the sight of the wind sifting through his hair.



"Is it for sale?" He looked down the stretch of beach in front of us.



"Everything's for sale at the right price."



"Do you like it?" "The interior's a little cold with all that white, although I like the master bedroom the way it is.



We could change all the rest.



Make it more us."



"Us," I repeated, wondering what that would be.



I loved his apartment with its old world elegance.



I think he felt comfortable at my place, which was more modern traditional.



Combining the two .



"Big step, buying a property together."



"Inevitable step," he corrected.



"You told Dr.



Petersen failure isn't an option."



"Yep, I did."



We walked a little farther in silence.



I tried to figure out how I felt about Gideon wanting to have a more tangible tie between us.



I also wondered why he'd choose joint property ownership as the way to achieve it.



"So I take it you like it here, too?" "I like the beach."



He brushed his hair back from his face.



"There's a picture of me and my father building a sand castle on a beach."



It was a miracle my steps didn't falter.



Gideon volunteered so little information about his past that when he did, it was nearly an earthshaking event.



"I'd like to see it."



"My mother has it."



We took a few more steps before he said, "I'll get it for you."



"I'll go with you."



He hadn't told me why yet, but he'd told me once that the Vidal home was a nightmare for him.



I suspected that whatever was at the root of his parasomnia had taken place there.



Gideon's chest expanded on a deep breath.



"I can have it couriered."



"All right."



I turned my head to kiss his bruised knuckles where they rested on my shoulder.



"But my offer stands."



"What did you think of my mother?" he asked suddenly.



"She's very beautiful.



Very elegant.



She seemed gracious."



I studied him, seeing Elizabeth Vidal's inky black hair and stunning blue eyes.



"She also seems to love you a lot.



It was in her eyes when she looked at you."



He kept looking straight ahead.



"She didn't love me enough."



My breath left me in a rush.



Because I didn't know what had given him such tormenting nightmares, I'd wondered if maybe she'd loved him too much.



It was a relief to know that wasn't the case.



It was awful enough that his father committed suicide.



To be betrayed by his mother, too, might be more than he could ever recover from.



"How much is enough, Gideon?" His jaw tightened.



His chest expanded on a deep breath.



"She didn't believe me."



I came to a dead stop and pivoted to face him.



"You told her what happened to you? You told her and she didn't believe you?" His gaze was trained over my head.



"It doesn't matter now.



It's long done."



"Bullshit.



It matters.



It matters a lot."



I was furious for him.



Furious that a mother hadn't done her job and stood by her child.



Furious that the child had been Gideon.



"I bet it hurts like fucking hell, too."



His gaze lowered to my face.



"Look at you, so pissed off and upset.



I shouldn't have said anything."



"You should've said something earlier."



The tension in his shoulders eased and his mouth curved ruefully.



"I haven't told you anything."



"Gideon - " "And of course you believe me, angel.



You've had to sleep in a bed with me."



I grabbed his face in my hands and stared hard up into his eyes.



"I.



Believe.



You."



His face contorted with pain for a split second before he picked me up in a bear hug.



"Eva."



I slung my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.



"I believe you."



* * *



When we got back to the house, Gideon went into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and I perused the bookshelves in the living room, smiling when I came across the first book in the series I'd told him about, the one where'd I'd picked up his nickname, ace.



We sprawled on the couch and I read to him while he played absently with my hair.



He was in a pensive mood after our walk, his mind seemingly far from me.



I didn't resent that.



We'd given each other a lot to think about over the last couple of days.When the tide came in, it did indeed rush up under the house, which sounded amazing and looked even more so.



We stepped out onto the deck and watched it ebb and flow, turning the house into an island in the surf.



"Let's make s'mores," I said, while leaning over the railing with Gideon wrapped around my back.



"On that portable patio fireplace."



His teeth caught my earlobe and he whispered, "I want to lick melted chocolate off your body."



Yes, please .



I teased him, "Wouldn't that burn?" "Not if I do it right."



I turned to face him, and he picked me up and sat me on the wide handrail.



Then he stepped between my legs and hugged me around the hips.



There was a wonderful peace that accompanied the twilight and we both sank into it.



I ran my hands through his hair, just as the night breeze did.



"Have you talked to Ireland at all?" I asked, thinking of his half sister who was as beautiful as their mother.



I'd met her at a Vidal Records party, and it became evident pretty quickly that she was hungry for any word or news about her eldest brother.