Page 31 of Ruthless Touch
For the first time since I began staying here with him, Gideon and I have something that resembles a normal dinner. Not that he does a lot of talking, but he seems different now after our time in the shower.
He takes a drink of his scotch and sets the glass down in front of him with a sigh. He doesn’t look unhappy, but that sigh tells me there’s something on his mind.
“Did you enjoy your salmon?” I ask, suddenly needing to fill the silence with talking.
Gideon surprises me by nodding and giving me a smile. I wait for him to say something, but he stops himself. Always so in control.
“What? You were going to say something. What was it?”
He looks around at the terrace and sighs again. “Why didn’t you try to get away? Three weeks and you never tried even once. Why?”
I can’t stop the chuckle that escapes from my throat. “Get away? How? Raphael isn’t exactly a man you can get away from. He would have grabbed me before I even got to the elevator. I guess I could have tried to make my way down the side of the building over there, but I’m not exactly the type of woman who’s up for that.”
As I explain why I didn’t try to leave for the past month, Gideon nods like what I’m saying makes perfect sense. When I finish, he seems to want to say something, but once again, he remains quiet.
“Do you want to ask me something else?”
I wish I wasn’t so curious about this man. Things would be so much easier for me if I wasn’t. I wouldn’t want so much to hear what’s on his mind, and I wouldn’t be so frustrated all the time.
He doesn’t answer me for a long moment, but finally, he says, “For three weeks, you’ve slept next to me in my bed. Why didn’t you ever try to do something to me in all that time? There are at least a dozen things in my bedroom you could have bashed my head in with and been free once I was dead.”
That he actually wonders why I didn’t try to harm him makes me wonder what kind of women he’s been with in his life. I may not enjoy having to stay in this penthouse every day, but it never occurred to me to physically attack him.
“Gideon, I didn’t want to hurt you. I admit this isn’t a traditional situation here between us, and I would like to be free to leave this penthouse when I want to, but it never crossed my mind to use any of those things in your bedroom to kill you. Is that why you’ve been so reluctant to be with me? You thought I wanted to murder you in your sleep?”
He smiles like my explanation makes him happy. “No, that’s not the reason.”
I get the surest sense he doesn’t intend on telling me why he’s kept me at arm’s length all this time, but strangely enough, I don’t mind tonight. “Did you enjoy the dessert?” I ask, happy to change the topic.
Gideon nods again and stands from the table. “I have something else in mind I think we’ll both enjoy. Let’s go inside,” he says in a low voice, holding out his hand for me.
I like this Gideon. He reminds me of that man who joined me in the art gallery.
“Something else? A second dessert?” I ask with a smile as I take his hand.
He leads me into the penthouse before bringing my hand up to his lips to kiss my fingertips. With a sparkle in his dark eyes, he answers, “Something like that.”
Oh, I definitely like this Gideon.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gideon
As I sit at my desk trying to get some work done, my mind continually drifts back to last night with Aria. Jesus, that woman is relentless. Not that I’m unhappy about the shower sex and then a second round of sex after we had dinner that left me exhausted in the best way. I just can’t see how I’m going to keep her at arm’s length if we’re constantly fucking.
Most men would kill to have this problem, so I don’t pretend to think I’m being tortured or anything. I just can’t forget the past, which makes any present or future with Aria difficult, if not impossible.
“You look like a new man today,” Sasha says in a lilting voice that borders on sing song, very odd for her. She’s never this happy.
I look up from the papers I wasn’t really reading and reply, “And you sound like a children’s song. What’s made you so chipper today?”
She gives me what I judge to be a genuine smile and answers, “I like seeing you happy. Don’t ruin this. I like feeling as if you aren’t the most miserable man on the entire coast. It reflects positively on me.”
After plopping down in front of my desk, she asks about what I know she’s been dying to hear. “So have things gotten better with your beautiful prisoner? I’m assuming yes since you look like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.”
Sitting back against my leather office chair, I scan her expression and decide she really is interested in hearing about this topic. Too bad I’m not interested in saying anything about it.
“Do most bosses tell their assistants about their sex lives? I think the answer is no.”