Bared to You: A Crossfire Novel

“Thanks,” I said quietly, hoping I didn’t look as il as I felt. This sort of warning from a friend, and knowing that others would think of me as just another babe-of-the-week, was exactly the sort of thing that preyed on my insecurities.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he muttered, looking as miserable as I felt. “Part of that’s selfish, I’l admit. I don’t want to lose a great assistant because she doesn’t want to work in a building owned by an ex.”

“Mark, it means a lot to me that you care and that I’m valuable to you around here. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl. Besides, nothing is going to get me to quit this job.”

He blew out his breath, clearly relieved. “Al right.

Let’s put it away and get to work.”

So we did, but I set myself up for future torture by subscribing to a daily Google alert for Gideon’s name.

And when five o’clock rol ed around, my awareness of my many inadequacies was stil spreading through my happiness like a stain.

Gideon was as prompt as he’d threatened to be and he didn’t seem to notice my introspective mood as we rode down in a crowded elevator. More than one woman in the car cast furtive glances in his direction, but that sort of thing I didn’t mind. He was hot. I would’ve been surprised if they hadn’t looked.

He caught my hand when we cleared the turnstiles, linking his fingers with mine. The simple, intimate gesture meant so much to me in that moment that my grip tightened on his. And I’d real y have to watch out for that. The moment I became grateful he was spending time with me would be the beginning of the end. Neither of us would respect me if that happened.

The Bentley SUV sat at the curb and Gideon’s driver stood at the ready by the rear door. Gideon looked at me. “I had some workout clothes packed and brought over, in case you were set on visiting your gym. Equinox, right? Or we can go to mine.”

“Where’s yours?”

“I prefer to go to the CrossTrainer on Thirty-fifth.” My curiosity over how he knew which gym I frequented vanished when I heard the “Cross” in the name of his gym. “You wouldn’t happen to own the gym, would you?”

His grin flashed. “The chain. Usual y, I practice mixed martial arts with a personal trainer, but I use the gym occasional y.”

“The chain,” I repeated. “Of course.”

“Your choice,” he said considerately. “I’l go wherever you want.”

“By al means, let’s go to your gym.”

He opened the back door, and I slid in and over. I set my purse and my gym bag on my lap, and looked out the window as the car pul ed away from the curb.

The sedan driving next to us was so close I wouldn’t have to lean far to touch it. Rush hour in Manhattan was something I was stil getting used to. SoCal had bumper-to-bumper traffic, too, but it moved at a snail’s pace. Here in New York, speed mixed with the crush in a way that often made me close my eyes and pray to survive the trip.

It was a whole new world. A new city, new It was a whole new world. A new city, new apartment, new job, and new man. It was a lot to take on at once. I supposed it was understandable that I felt off-balance.

I glanced at Gideon and found him staring at me with an unreadable expression. Everything inside me twisted into a mess of wild lust and vibrating anxiety. I had no idea what I was doing with him, only that I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

We hit the cel ular store first. The associate who helped us seemed highly susceptible to Gideon’s magnetic pul . She practical y fel al over herself the minute he showed the slightest interest in anything, quickly launching into detailed explanations and leaning into his personal space to demonstrate.

I tried separating from them and finding someone who’d actual y help me, but Gideon’s grip on my hand wouldn’t let me move more than touching distance away. Then we argued over who was going to pay, which he seemed to think should be him even though the phone and account were mine.

“You got your way with picking the service provider,” I pointed out, pushing his credit card aside and shoving mine at the girl.

“Because it’s practical. We’l be on the same network, so cal s to me are free.” He swapped the cards deftly.

“I won’t be cal ing you at al , if you don’t put your damn credit card away!”

That did the trick, although I could tel he was unhappy about it. He’d just have to get over it.

Once we got back in the Bentley, his mood seemed restored.