“That went well, don’t you think?” she asked Gideon as she removed her earrings. They were enchanting cascades of diamonds commissioned to match her ring. She’d almost ruined her makeup when he’d presented them to her before they’d left earlier in the evening, she was so affected by his thoughtfulness.
Gideon made a noncommittal noise.
“No?” she prompted, alarmed that he might have noticed a flaw she’d missed.
“Hmm? No, it was fine. Perfect. Excellent. I’m a bit distracted. Look, you get ready for bed and I’ll be in soon. I’d like a nightcap.”
“Oh. Okay.” Adara’s startled confusion was evident, but Gideon didn’t attempt to explain himself.
He breathed a small sigh of relief as she disappeared and didn’t see the full measure of bracing whiskey he poured for himself or the rabid way he drained it. Despite the burn that promised forgetfulness, he wasn’t able to stop replaying his conversation with her brother.
“I’d like a word,” Nic had said when both their wives had been drawn across the room by some fashion marvel.
“Now is fine,” Gideon had said, keeping one eye on Adara, premonition tightening his muscles.
“Understand first that I’ve always felt protective of Adara, even when the only thing she had to fear was a nightmare. Knowing what I abandoned her to, I’m sick with myself for not trying to contact her sooner. I’ll be on guard for her the rest of my life.”
“Reassuring,” Gideon had muttered.
“The way you two were arguing at the end of my driveway wasn’t,” Nic retorted sharply. “When you first arrived in Greece. Not reassuring at all.”
Gideon knew better than to show weakness, but he flinched involuntarily. “I thought she was meeting another man. Tell me how you would react if you thought your wife was stepping out on you.”
“She wouldn’t. But...” Nic shrugged, seeming to accept the explanation for Gideon’s temper that day. “Regardless, I’m a man who collects the facts before he reacts.”
Gideon had spilled a dry laugh at that point, enjoying the euphemistic phrase “collects the facts.” “You mean you had me investigated.”
“I don’t have to hire people to do my legwork,” Nic said disparagingly.
“No,” Gideon snorted, wishing for a drink at that point. He’d known from the outset that Nic could be a threat, but he hadn’t expected this. Not now when he and Adara had both found such happiness. “What did you learn?” He surreptitiously braced himself.
“What do you think I learned?” Nic asked, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing. Which doesn’t surprise you, does it?”
“Of course it does,” he’d lied. “I’m all over the internet.”
“Gideon Vozaras is,” Nic agreed. “He’s never made a wrong move. Some of his early business dealings weren’t as clean as they could have been, but that’s every scrappy young man trying to make his mark. Those men don’t usually appear out of thin air, though.”
Gideon had calmly stropped his knuckles on his jaw, trying to disguise that he was clenching his teeth. “I’m fairly protective of Adara myself, you know.” He flashed a glance from her laughing face to the vague resemblance of her features in her brother’s rigid expression.
The other man wasn’t intimidated, but there was a watchful respect. He didn’t take the danger of Gideon’s temper lightly.
“I can see that things between you are different from the way they first appeared,” Nic said. “But secrets destroyed my life. I won’t let that happen to Adara.”
“It’s not secrets that destroy. It’s the exposing of them. You really want to do that to her when she’s found the first bit of happiness she’s known since you were children?” He jerked his chin toward the circle of women where Adara was holding court with a flush of pleasure on her face, allowing another woman to feel the baby kick. “Think about what you’re doing, Nic.”
“No, you think about it,” Nic had retorted sharply. “Do you want to make it easy and give me a name? Tell her yourself before I get there? Because I will.”
“You want a name? Start with Delphi Parnassus and happy reading.” He’d bit out the words and smoothly extricated his wife from the party, claiming she needed her rest.
“Gideon? Are you all right?” Adara asked him, yanking him back to the apartment where she stood in the bedroom doorway, face clean of makeup. Her hair was brushed into sleek waves. She wore one of his silk shirts, the front crossed over her bulging tummy and pinned by her folded arms. Her bump shortened the shirt, offering such a tantalizing view to the tops of her thighs, he reacted like a drug had been injected into his loins.