Gideon didn’t speak. Just growled softly and held her tighter. Then, with reverence, he eased her off the counter, like letting her go cost him something.
Once her boots hit the floor, he adjusted her top, smoothed her hair.
Intimate. Domestic. Maddeningly tender.
“You’renottaking the subway,” he said, voice low and final.
Arden’s chin lifted, a familiar spark in her eyes. “It’s only a few stops. We’ll be fine.”
He held her hand a little tighter. “Car’s already en route.”
She blinked, clearly not expecting the gentle steel in his tone. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” he said, steady as stone. “I wanted to.”
A subtle shiver wound through her, not from fear, but from the quiet care beneath his dominance.
Her lips curved. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Anytime.” His gaze lingered, unreadable and full.
Penny swannedinto the room like a Broadway finale. “We’re on a schedule, people! And schedules don’t wait—not even for smoldering billionaire makeouts!”
She paused, green eyes darting between them before a slow, delighted grin overtook her face. “Oh. Did I interrupt foreplay?”
Gideon’s smirk was effortless, but his eyes… his eyes told a different story. “Nothing that won’t pick back up later.”
Arden snorted, stepping toward Penny, but the heat of Gideon’s hands clung to her skin, the taste of his kiss lingering on her lips.
“You’ve got a car downstairs,” he said, addressing Penny with quiet authority. “No subway tonight.”
“Ooh, we’ve officially entered my rich-girl era,” Penny crowed. “I’m choosing not to question it.”
She bumped Arden’s shoulder, and for once, Arden didn’t roll her eyes.
Instead, she turned back to Gideon, something softer slipping through her expression.
“Thanks,” she said, quiet but unflinching.
He nodded once, gaze locking with hers. “Have fun tonight.”
The way he said it—it shouldn’t have landed the way it did.
But it did.
Like he was feeling her absence before she’d even walked out the door.
She hesitated, then smiled. Not coy. Not careless.Warmth sparked in her chest.
Fingers on the doorknob, she paused, then turned back again.
“Oh, don’t look so tragic,” she teased, the edge of her voice softened. “I’m not exactly running off with someone new.”
“No.” His eyes moved over her, slow and unapologetic. “But I’m not thrilled about you stepping out looking like that.”
“Like what?” She arched a brow.
He let the silence stretch. Then, quietly, “Like trouble I don’t want to share.”
