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My mom looks at me with a sad smile. “She’ll be happy to see you. She’s been hearing about you for years.”

“Really?” I know from the journals that my mom could rarely see Katherine in person, since my mom’s husbands preferred to keep their lovely wife close. She’d had to settle for mailed letters and cards, since e-mails and calls left a trail.

“Of course. I can’t help but brag. I’m so proud of you.”

Tears fill my eyes.

She tilts her face up to the sun. “For so long, I was angry at the damage that had been done to Kathy—I never got back the sister I knew. But then I realized her mind protected her from that one night of hell. She doesn’t remember it. And as simple as her thoughts are now, she finds a childlike joy in everything.”

“We’ll take care of her,” I promise.

My mom holds out her hand and I take it. “Do tree houses have champagne?” she asks.

I laugh and squeeze her fingers. “Sure.”

I woke slowly, drifting lazily upward from the depths of sleep into full awareness. Dappled sunlight filtered through the mosquito netting cocooning the bed. I stretched, my arm sliding over to search for my husband, but he wasn’t lying beside me.

Instead, I found Gideon standing at the window in the rustic nook he was using as an office, talking on the phone. For a moment, I just soaked up the sight of him. Disheveled and unshaven, he was so totally sexy I could hardly stand it. The fact that Lucky sprawled at his feet only added to the yumminess.

Gideon was wearing nothing but shorts, with the zipper tugged up and the button undone so I could see that he was commando. It was about as far as he got when it came to dressing on our honeymoon. Some days, the only thing he wore was sweat, which looked and smelled so damn hot on him I made sure he worked up more of it.

As for me, I’d been surprised to find my packing augmented with a lot of strapless tube dresses and a noticeable lack of underwear. At any moment, I could find myself bent over, my skirt flipped up, and some part of my husband’s anatomy sliding into me. We’d been on our honeymoon for two weeks and in that time, Gideon had trained my body to anticipate his lust. He could arouse me in moments, satisfy us both nearly as quickly.

It was deliciously, insatiably hedonistic.

In between bouts of crazed monkey sex, we’d spent time talking and making plans for when we returned to the world. We watched movies and played card games, with Gideon teaching me how to play well. He did occasionally have to work and when he did, I read the diaries my mother left behind for me. It had taken him a couple of days to tell me about them, but when he did, it was the right time.

We talked about those a lot, too.

“The demand is unreasonable,” Gideon said into his phone, eyeing me in my short silk robe. “There’s wiggle room elsewhere. They need to be redirected to those fluid points.”

Blowing him a kiss, I backed out and headed to the kitchen.

I looked out onto the deck while the coffee brewed, at the copse of trees beyond that, and the ocean beyond that. Maybe we’d go to the beach today. We had a spot that was ours alone. For now, just being with each other was all we wanted.

A tingle raced down my spine as I heard Lucky’s paws hurrying across the hardwood floors. He would be following alongside Gideon, whom he worshipped. My husband was more than a little fond of Lucky, too. The nightmares were coming less and less frequently, but when they did, Lucky was handy to have around.

“Good morning,” Gideon murmured, his arms encircling me.

I leaned into him. “I think it’s technically afternoon.”

“We could go back to bed until evening,” he purred, nuzzling my neck.

“I can’t believe I haven’t bored you yet.”

“Angel, if you’re bored, I’ll put more back into it.”

I shivered at the image that came to mind with those words. Gideon was a vigorous lover on an average day. Since we’d been on our honeymoon, he had been even more so. I could swear his body was even more lean and ripped now than before, just from the exercise he got making love to me. Certainly I was happier with my body than I’d been in years.

“Who was on the phone?” I asked.

He took a deep breath. “My brother.”

“Really? Isn’t that the third time in the last couple of weeks?”

“Don’t be jealous. You’re much sexier than he is.”

I bumped him with my elbow.

Gideon had told me about Hugh’s files and that Chris had talked to Christopher. What was said during that conversation, we didn’t know. That was something private between father and son. But whatever it was, Christopher had e-mailed Gideon twice—three times now—asking for advice.

“Is it always business he wants to talk about?”

“Yeah, but the stuff he’s asking … He already knows the answer.”

“Anything personal?”

Gideon had been assured by Chris that nothing of his abuse had been relayed to his brother, and my husband wasn’t inclined to change that. Christopher had caused a lot of damage over the years, and without an apology, Gideon wasn’t writing a blank check of forgiveness any time soon.

He shrugged. “Are we having fun … How’s the weather … That sort of thing.”

“He’s reaching out in his own way, I guess.” I shrugged it off, too. “Wanna head down to the beach?”

“We could …”

Turning in his arms, I looked up at him. “Something else on your mind?”

“I’d like to run a couple of things by you before I put work aside for the day.”

“Okay. Let me caffeinate first.”

I was smiling as we fixed our coffee. Once we reached his office, he woke up his laptop.

The image on the screen was self-explanatory. I pulled out the chair and sat. “More GenTen creative?”

I’d seen a dozen different ad concepts so far. Some of the messaging was clever, some was too clever, and some was just pedestrian.

“Refinements to the last round,” he explained, setting one hand on the back of the chair and the other on the desk, surrounding me with warm skin and delicious masculine scent. “And some new directions.”

Scrolling through the deck, I nodded at most, but one made me shake my head. “That’s a no.”

“I don’t like it, either,” Gideon agreed. “But why doesn’t it work for you?”

“I think it’s sending the wrong message. You know, the overwhelmed wife/mother/businesswoman can only find quiet time by distracting the family with the GenTen.” I looked at him. “Women are capable of wearing those various hats easily. Let’s show her playing the games with the family or enjoying the GenTen for herself.”

He nodded. “I said I wouldn’t ask again, but since we’re discussing women having it all … Are you still feeling good about leaving your job?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation before answering. “I still want to work,” I qualified, “and helping you with things you don’t need help with isn’t going to satisfy me for long. But we’ll find a place where I fit.”

His mouth quirked wryly. “I do appreciate your take or I wouldn’t ask for it.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He swiped and tapped on the trackpad, bringing up a presentation. “These are a few of the projects currently taking priority. When you have time, look them over and let me know which ones interest you most.”

“They all interest you, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.” I’d make a few lists, order them by interest, and knowledge base, and skill set. Then cross-reference. Most important, I would discuss everything with Gideon. That was what I enjoyed most about sharing his work with him—exploring that fascinating razor-sharp mind of his.

“I don’t want to tie you down,” he said quietly, his hand moving to my shoulder and brushing down my arm. “I want you to soar.”

“I know, baby.” I caught his caressing hand and kissed the back of it. The sky was the limit with a husband who loved you like that.


Tags: Sylvia Day Crossfire Romance