CavillConservation & Durrell

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Henry é um Embaixador da Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, e criou a #CavillConservation para angariar fundos para a causa. Conheça e ajude!

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Royal Marines Charitable Trust Fund

Henry é o embaixador da RMCTF. Conheça mais sobre o trabalho da instituição e apoie essa causa com a gente!

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Henry volta as telonas como Superman. Estreia nos cinemas brasileiros dia 24 de Março de 2016!

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Faça parte do nosso fã clube dedicado ao Henry. FC Crazy for Henry Cavill BR.

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ICYMI: Cobertura #HenryNoBrasil

Relembre a nossa cobertura exclusiva da passagem do Henry no Brasil para promover "O Agente da U.N.C.L.E."

sábado, 31 de outubro de 2015

While you wait for Gideon and Eva

When five o’clock rolled around, I took the elevator up to the heart of Cross Industries. As the car made the swift climb, my pulse rose along with it. After spending the last few days avoiding the one thing in the world I couldn’t resist, I was now going directly to him.
The freedom of that was exhilarating.
I sashayed off the elevator on the top floor, humming a tune. I even flashed a genuine smile at the receptionist as I waited for her to buzz me through the glass security doors. There was a second where I registered the way she looked at me with distaste, then I brushed it off. There were a lot of people who didn’t want me with Gideon.
They could all go fuck themselves. Asshats.
I also registered the ways heads turned to follow me as I made my way toward Gideon’s office. Curious gazes. I couldn’t blame them. For one, I was practically dancing on my feet at the end of the business day, when the frenetic pace of working in the city left most New Yorkers drained. And two, Gideon Cross was an enigma. Everyone wanted to know what his private life was like and I was the core of that.
When I turned the corner into the reception area of Gideon’s office, Scott stood to greet me. Sharply dressed in a pale blue dress shirt and crisp navy slacks, he was the first salvo in the impressive arsenal of impressions one received when meeting with Gideon.
Beyond him was the wall of glass that separated Gideon’s office from the rest of the floor. When it was clear, visitors could see Gideon at work against the backdrop of Manhattan, his tall and powerfully lean body dominating the eye despite the multimillion-dollar view framing him. Right then, though, the glass was opaque, which slowed my stride.
“Is he busy?” I asked.
But Scott had already picked up the phone. “Miss Tramell is here for you, Mr. Cross.”
And just like that, the door glided open and invited me in.
I smiled. “Thanks, Scott.”
His eyes sparkled. “Anytime.”
With renewed excitement, I walked into Gideon’s office. Then I pulled up short again. He wasn’t alone.
Gideon half-sat on the front edge of his desk, his powerful thighs straining the flawless fit of his black trousers. His suit jacket hung in its usual place on the coatrack, leaving him dressed in a sleek black vest and pristine white button-down shirt. The tips of his inky hair brushed his collar and the sculpted line of his jaw, the perfect frame for that incomparable face that was instantly recognizable to anyone.
In his hand, he held a photo. And standing close enough to brush against him was Corinne Giroux, the woman he’d almost married. She was as leggy and striking as my husband, her hair as dark and glossy, her face classically beautiful. She wore a red strapless dress, showing off skin that was like rich pale cream.
I hated how the sight of her made my stomach knot. She wasn’t a threat. I knew that. It was my own insecurities that weakened me. But I was working on that.
Corinne’s head lifted and her aqua gaze settled on me. The line of her lips tightened for a moment, then curved into a razor sharp smile. “Hello, Eva.”
Gideon unfolded in the way he had that was both powerfully elegant and dangerously sexy. He dropped the photo in a small red box sitting on his desk and came toward me, his long legs eating the distance between us.
Angel.
He didn’t speak aloud, but I saw his lips form the word, felt the impact of it in the way he looked at me. His hand reached for mine, squeezing.
I shifted to look past him. “Corinne.”
She was reaching for her purse, which had been resting on the desktop next to the box. “I have to run. Those copies are for you, Gideon.”
I could tell from the weight of it that his gaze never left my face. “Take them with you.” The rough velvet of his voice shivered through me. “I don’t want them.”
“You should finish going through them,” she said, approaching.
“Why?” He glanced at her when she drew abreast of us, his blue eyes as sharply cold as shards of ice. “If I have any interest in seeing them, I can always find them in your book.”
Her smile tightened again. “Good-bye, Eva. Gideon.”
She left, leaving behind a thick tension. It was hard for me, imagining them enclosed together in Gideon’s office, the glass frosted for privacy as they looked at images of their time together.
Gideon took another step toward me, bringing our bodies together so that even a sheet of paper couldn’t slide between us. He caught my other hand, his head bowed over me.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmured, his lips brushing my forehead. “I miss you so much.”
The depth of his love was conveyed in his tone and I sank into it, my eyes closing.
His grip on my hands tightened. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”
“Neither was I.” He backed away, holding onto my hands until the growing distance pulled us apart. His reluctance to let me go, to move away, mirrored how I felt. A sense of desperation was there, heavy and painful. The time we’d spent apart had rocked us both.
I watched him walk to the desk, put a lid on the box, and then drop it into the trash. I won’t lie; I wanted to see them. The desire to do that was so strong I had to fight the urge to reclaim the box.
But I didn’t. For the same reason I forbade Gideon from watching the video of my time with Brett. Our exes were in our pasts and they were going to stay there.
Which didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to have a few words with Corinne.
Gideon hit the control that closed his office door again.
“I quit my job,” I told him. “Friday’s my last day.”
His face gave nothing away, but something hot flared in his gaze. “Did you?”
“Yep.”
He returned to the position he’d been in when I entered, leaning back against the smoked glass of his desk. “What’s next for you, then?”
“I’ve got a wedding to plan.” And some loose ends to tie up. But we’d get to those later.
“Ah.” A small smile touched his mouth and sent tingles racing through my veins. “Good to know.”
He beckoned me closer with a crook of his finger.
“Meet me halfway,” I countered.
We met in the middle of the room.
“Is this what you want?” he asked me quietly, his gaze searching my face.
You’re what I want. The rest is just logistics.”
He wet his lips with a slow swipe of his tongue and I nearly moaned aloud. Staying out of his bed was going to kill me, but it had to be done.
Still, I couldn’t resist lifting my hand to brush an errant strand of his hair back from his forehead. When I realized what I was doing I tried to stop, knowing that every touch sent us down a dangerous path of temptation.
Gideon caught my wrist in mid-air. A heartbeat later his cheek was pressed against my palm, his eyes closed as he absorbed my touch. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of my perfume.
Abruptly, the strain that had tightened his posture left him. I felt it slip away. More, I felt something shift inside me, too. The power of it sent me reeling.
With a single touch we could center each other.
This was what we had. What we were fighting for.
And we were going to win.

fonte: sylviaday.com

Ansiedade crescente à espera de Gideon e Eva


Capítulo 1

“Quando deu cinco horas, peguei o elevador para subir ao coração das Indústrias Crossfire. Conforme o elevador ia subindo rapidamente, meu pulso se elevou junto. Depois de passar os últimos dias evitando a única coisa no mundo que eu não podia resistir, agora eu estava indo diretamente para ele.
A liberdade disso era emocionante.
Eu desci do elevador no último andar, cantarolando uma melodia. Eu até mesmo dediquei um genuíno sorriso para a recepcionista enquanto eu a aguardava liberar minha entrada nas portas de segurança envidraçadas. Houve um instante em que registrei a maneira como ela me olhava com desgosto, depois tirei isso da minha mente. Havia um monte de pessoas que não me queriam com Gideon.
Eles poderiam todos se foder. Idiotas.
Também registrei as diversas cabeças que giraram para me seguir enquanto eu caminhava para o escritório de Gideon. Olhares curiosos. Eu não poderia culpá-los. Primeiro, eu estava praticamente dançando no fim de um dia de trabalho, quando o ritmo frenético de trabalho na cidade deixava a maioria dos nova-iorquinos drenados. E segundo, Gideon Cross era um enigma. Todos queriam saber como era a sua vida privada e eu era o centro dela.
Quando eu virei o corredor para a área da recepção do escritório de Gideon, Scott se levantou para me cumprimentar. Cuidadosamente vestido em uma camisa azul claro com uma calça azul marinho, ele era o primeiro na linha de defesa do arsenal que me recebia quando ia me encontrar com Gideon.
Atrás dele estava a parede de vidro que separava o escritório de Gideon do resto do andar. Quando estava claro, os visitantes podiam ver Gideon trabalhando com Manhattan como plano de fundo, seu alto e poderoso corpo dominavam a visão apesar da cena multimilionária atrás dele. Embora neste momento, os vidros estavam opacos, o que atrasou meu caminhar.
“Ele está ocupado?” Eu perguntei.
Mas Scott já tinha pego o telefone. “A Srta. Tramell está aqui para ver você, Sr. Cross.”
E assim, a porta se abriu, me convidando a entrar.
Eu sorri. “Obrigada, Scott.”
Seu olhos brilharam. “À seu dispor.”
Com renovado entusiasmo, eu entrei no escritório de Gideon. E então parei novamente. Ele não estava sozinho.
Gideon estava meio sentado na borda de sua mesa, suas poderosas coxas esticando o ajuste perfeito de suas calças pretas. Seu paletó estava pendurado no seu lugar habitual no cabideiro, deixando-o vestido com um colete preto elegante e uma imaculada camisa branca de botão. As pontas de seus cabelos tocavam o colarinho e a esculpida linha de sua mandíbula, o quadro perfeito para aquele rosto incomparável que era imediatamente reconhecível para qualquer um.
Em sua mão, ele segurava uma foto. E ali, perto suficiente para tocá-lo estava Corinne Giroux, a mulher com quem ele quase se casou. Ela era tão alta e marcante quanto meu marido, seu cabelo também era escuro e brilhante, seu rosto era de uma beleza clássica. Ela usava um vestido vermelho sem alças, sua pele era suavemente pálida.
Eu odiava a forma de como a visão dela me dava nós no estômago. Ela não era uma ameaça. Eu sabia disso. Eram as minhas próprias inseguranças que me fragilizavam, mas eu estava trabalhando nisso.
Corinne levantou a cabeça e seu olhar cristalino caiu sobre mim. A linha de seus lábios se apertaram por um momento, então se curvaram em um afiado sorriso. “Olá, Eva.”
Gideon se virou daquela maneira sua maneira de ser tanto poderosamente elegante quanto perigosamente sexy. Ele largou a foto em uma pequena caixa vermelha que estava em sua mesa e veio em minha direção, suas longas pernas diminuindo a distância entre nós.
Anjo.
Ele não falou alto, mas vi seus lábios formarem a palavra, senti o impacto dela na maneira como ele olhou para mim. Sua mão procurou pela minha, apertando.
Passei o olhar por ele. “Corrine.”
Ela estava pegando a sua bolsa, que estava descansando na mesa perto da caixa. “Tenho que ir. As cópias são para você, Gideon.”
Eu poderia dizer a partir do peso de seu olhar que nunca deixou meu rosto. “Leve-as com você.” O veludo áspero de sua voz correu em mim. “Eu não as quero.”
“Você deveria terminar de olhá-las.” Ela disse, se aproximando.
“Por quê?” Ele olhou para ela quando ela chegou perto de nós, seus olhos azuis nitidamente tão frios como cacos de gelo. “Se eu tiver qualquer interesse em vê-las, poderei encontrá-las no seu livro.”
O sorriso dela se contraiu novamente. “Adeus, Eva. Gideon.”
Ela foi embora, deixando para trás uma tensão crepitante. Era difícil para mim, imaginá-los fechados no escritório de Gideon, o vidro opaco para privacidade enquanto olhavam as imagens de seu tempo juntos.
Gideon deu mais um passo em minha direção, juntando nossos corpos para que nem uma folha de papel pudesse ficar entre nós. Ele pegou minha outra mão, sua cabeça inclinada sobre mim.
“Estou contente que você veio.” Ele murmurou, seus lábios pressionados contra minha testa. “Senti tanto sua falta.”
A profundidade de seu amor era transmitido em seu tom e me afundei nele, fechando meus olhos.
Ele apertou minhas mãos ainda mais. “Você está bem?”
“Sim. Estou bem. Eu apenas não estava esperando vê-la.”
“Nem eu estava.” Ele se afastou, segurando minhas mãos até que a crescente distância nos separou. Sua relutância em me soltar, de se afastar, reproduziam como eu me sentia. A sensação de desespero estava ali, pesada e dolorosa. O tempo que tínhamos ficado separados havia abalado nós dois.
Eu o observei ir para a mesa, colocar uma tampa na caixa, e então a deixando cair no lixo. Eu não vou mentir; eu queria vê-las. O desejo de fazer isso era tão forte que eu tive que lutar contra a urgência de reclamar a caixa.
Mas eu não a reclamei. Pela mesma razão que eu proibi Gideon de ver o vídeo do meu tempo com Brett. Nossos exes estavam em nossos passados e iriam ficar lá.
O que não significava que eu não iria ter umas palavrinhas com Corinne.
Gideon bateu no controle que fechou a porta de seu escritório novamente.
“Eu pedi demissão.” Disse à ele. “Sexta-feira é o meu último dia.”
Seu rosto nada revelava, mas algo quente explodiu em seu olhar. “Você pediu?”
“Sim.”
Ele vou à posição que estava quando eu entrei, inclinando-se contra o vidro fumê de sua mesa. “O quê você vai fazer depois, então?”
“Eu tenho um casamento para planejar.” E alguns pingos para botar em alguns is. Mas teríamos que fazer isso depois.
“Ah.” Um pequeno sorriso tocou sua boca e enviou um formigamento correndo por minhas veias. “Bom saber.”
Ele me chamou para mais perto com o dedo.
“Me encontre no meio do caminho.” Eu retruquei.
Nos encontramos no meio da sala.
“É isso o que você quis dizer?” Ele me perguntou em voz baixa, seu olhar procurando o meu rosto.
“Você é o que eu quero. O resto é apenas logística.”
Ele molhou seu lábio com um lento passar de língua e eu quase gemi em voz alta. Ficar fora de sua cama iria me matar, mas precisava ser feito.
Ainda assim, eu não podia resistir em levantar minha mão para tirar uma mecha errante de cabelo de sua testa. Quando eu percebi o que estava fazendo, eu tentei parar, sabendo que cada toque nos levaria a um perigoso caminho de tentação.
Gideon pegou meu pulso no ar. Um instante depois sua bochecha estava pressionada contra a palma da minha mão, seus olhos fechados enquanto ele absorvia meu toque. Suas narinas se expandiram enquanto ele inalava o cheiro do meu perfume no pulso.
Abruptamente, a tensão que havia estado envolvendo sua postura, o deixou. Eu a senti indo embora. Mais, eu senti algo mudando dentro de mim também.
O poder disso me deixou cambaleante. Com um simples toque, podíamos centrar um ao outro.
Isso era o que tínhamos. Era pelo que estávamos lutando.
E iríamos ganhar.”


Capítulo 2


“Mais flores?” Arash Madani falou lentamente enquanto passava pelo vidro aberto das portas duplas do meu escritório.
Meu advogado principal caminhou até onde as rosas brancas de Eva decoravam a principal área. Eu as tinha colocado na mesa de café, na minha linha de visão direta. Lá, elas tinham estado tirando com sucesso a minha atenção para longe das cotações de ações correndo na parede de telas planas atrás delas.
O cartão que acompanhava as flores estava em cima do vidro fumê da minha mesa e eu passei os dedos, relendo as palavras pela centésima vez.
Arash puxou uma rosa para fora e levantou-a ao nariz. “Qual é o segredo para se ganhar algumas destas?”
Sentei-me, distraidamente observando que sua gravata em tons de esmeralda combinavam com os decantadores de predras preciosas decorando o bar. Até a chegada de Eva, as garrafas coloridas e um vaso vermelho haviam sido as únicas manchas de cor no firmamento monocromática de meu escritório. “A mulher certa.”
Ele voltou a flor à seu vaso. “Vá em frente, Cross, esfregue isso na minha cara.”
“Eu prefiro tripudiar em voz baixa. Você tem alguma coisa para mim? ”
Aproximando-se da minha mesa, ele sorriu de uma forma que me disse que adorava o trabalho dele, embora eu nunca duvidei disso. Seu faro de rapina era quase tão altamente desenvolvido quanto o meu.
“O acordo Morgan está funcionando muito bem junto.” Ajustando as calças sob medida, ele se estabeleceu em uma das duas cadeiras em frente da minha mesa. Seu estilo era um pouco mais chamativo do que o meu, mas não poderia ser criticado. “Nós eliminados os pontos maiores. Ainda precisamos melhorar algumas cláusulas, mas devemos estar prontos para prosseguir até a próxima semana. ”
“Bom”.
“Você é um homem de poucas palavras.” Casualmente, ele perguntou: “Vocês vão se reunir neste fim de semana?”
Eu balancei minha cabeça. “Eva pode querer sair. E se não quiser, eu vou tentar convencê-la. ”
Arash riu. “Eu tenho que te dizer, eu esperava que você se estabelece com alguém em algum ponto como todos nós fazemos, eventualmente, mas eu pensei que eu teria percebido isso.”
“Assim como eu”, o que não era muito a verdade. Eu nunca esperava poder compartilhar minha vida com ninguém. Eu nunca neguei o meu passado sombrio, mas eu não via necessidade de compartilhar esse passado com alguém antes de Eva. Nada poderia ser mudado, então por que refazer isso?
De pé, eu andei a uma das duas paredes de janelas emoldurando do chão ao teto do meu escritório. Eu olhei para a cidade vendo o esplendor urbano se esparramando para além do vidro.
Eu não sabia que Eva estava em algum lugar deste mundo, tinha estado com medo até de sonhar em encontrar a única pessoa no mundo que iria aceitar e amar cada faceta de mim.
Como era possível que eu a tivesse encontrado aqui, em Manhattan, no prédio que eu tinha construído contra grande conselho administrativo e com grande risco? Demasiado caro, eles tinha dito, e desnecessário. Mas eu precisava que o nome Cross fosse memorável e mencionado de uma maneira diferente. Meu pai tinha arrastado o nosso nome na lama; Eu tinha levantado ele para as alturas da cidade mais relevante no mundo.
“No fim você não mostrou nenhum sinal de que estava perdido dessa forma”, disse Arash atrás de mim. “Se bem me lembro, você marcou duas mulheres no Cinco de Mayo e algumas semanas mais tarde, você estava me dizendo sobre a elaboração de um acordo pré-nupcial insano.”
Eu examinei a cidade, tomando um momento raro para apreciar a vista panorâmica que me era conferida pela altura e posição do edifício Crossfire. “Quando você me viu atrasar para selar um acordo?”
“Uma coisa é expandir o seu portfólio, outra é reiniciar sua vida durante a noite.” Ele riu. “Então, quais são seus planos? Voltar para a casa de praia? ”
“Uma excelente ideia.” Levar minha esposa de volta para a Outer Banks era meu objetivo. Tê-la só para mim tinha sido o céu. Eu era mais feliz quando eu estava sozinho com ela. Ela me revitalizava, me fazia ter vontade de viver de uma maneira que eu nunca tive antes.
Eu construí o meu império com o passado em mente. Agora, graças a ela, eu iria continuar a construí-lo para o nosso futuro.
Meu telefone de mesa brilhou. Era Scott, na linha um. Eu apertei o botão, e sua voz veio pelo alto-falante. “Corinne Giroux está na recepção. Ela diz que precisa de apenas alguns minutos para deixar algo para você. Porque é privado, e ela quer dar isso a você pessoalmente. ”
“É claro que ela quer”, Arash entrou na conversa. “Talvez seja mais flores.”
Eu atirei-lhe um olhar. “Mulher errada.”
“Queria eu que as minhas mulheres erradas se parecessem com Corinne.” Ele começou a ir embora. “Boa sorte.”
Olhei para o relógio. Quarto para as cinco. “Senhora Giroux pode ter dez minutos. ”
Não seria preciso mais do que isso para me dizer o que precisava ser dito.
Através da parede de vidro que separava o meu escritório do resto do piso, eu assisti Scott saudar Corinne enquanto ela dobrava a esquina. Observei a maneira como ela sorriu para ele, e Arash ao passar por ela, antes de virar a cabeça para pegar o meu olhar. Seu sorriso se alargou ainda mais, transformando-a de uma mulher bonita para uma deslumbrante. Eu poderia admirá-la do jeito que eu admiraria qualquer coisa, exceto Eva, desapaixonadamente.
Agora casado e feliz, eu poderia compreender plenamente que erro terrível teria sido me casar com Corinne. Era uma pena para todos nós que ela se recusasse a perceber isso.
Levantei-me e dei a volta na minha mesa.
Ela deslizou para o meu escritório em estiletos vermelhos. O vestido sem alças que ela usava era da mesma tonalidade que os sapatos, e exibiam pernas longas de pele pálida. Ela usava o cabelo solto, os fios pretos correndo ao redor de seus ombros nus. Ela era o oposto de minha esposa e uma imagem espelhada de qualquer outra mulher que passou pela minha vida.
“Gideon. Obrigado por me receber “.
“Corinne.” Inclinando-se para trás em minha mesa, eu cruzei meus braços. “Eu não tenho muito tempo.”
“Eles me disseram.” Ela sorriu, mas seus olhos, de cor de águas-marinhas, estavam tristes.
Ela tinha uma pequena caixa vermelha debaixo do braço. Quando ela chegou até mim, ela puxou a caixa para fora e a ofereceu para mim.
“O que é isso?”, Perguntei, sem pegar a caixa.
“Estas são as fotos que aparecem no livro.”
A minha sobrancelha se arqueou. Eu encontrei-me desdobrando e aceitando a caixa, movido pela curiosidade. Não tinha sido há muito tempo que estávamos juntos, mas mal lembrava dos detalhes. O que eu tinha eram impressões, grandes momentos aleátorios. Eu era tão jovem, com uma perigosa falta de auto-consciência.
Corinne colocou a bolsa para baixo na minha mesa, movendo-se de uma forma que roçou o braço contra o meu. Cauteloso, eu estendi a mão e apertei o botão que controlava a opacidade da parede de vidro.
Se ela quisesse fazer disso um show, eu teria certeza de que ela não teria uma audiência.
Abrindo a tampa da caixa, eu fui confrontado com uma foto de Corinne e eu na frente de uma fogueira. Sua cabeça estava aninhada na curva do meu ombro, o rosto inclinado para cima para que eu pudesse pressionar um beijo em seus lábios.
A memória me assaltou imediatamente. Nós tínhamos feito uma viagem de um dia à casa de um amigo nos Hamptons. O clima tinha estado ótimo, considerando que era inverno.
Na foto eu parecia feliz e apaixonado, e de uma maneira, eu suponho que nós éramos. Mas eu tinha recusado o convite para passar a noite, apesar da desilusão óbvia de Corinne. Com os meus pesadelos, eu não conseguiria dormir ao lado dela. E eu não podia transar com ela, embora eu soubesse que era o que ela queria, porque o quarto de hotel que eu tinha reservado estava a milhas de distância.
Tantos rompimentos. Tantas mentiras e subterfúgios.
Eu respirei fundo e deixei o passado ir. “Eva e eu nos casamos, há três semanas.”
Ela endureceu.
Coloquei a caixa para baixo na mesa, peguei o meu smartphone e lhe mostrei a imagem do papel de parede, na tela, Eva eu dividindo o beijo que selou nossos votos.
Virando a cabeça, Corinne olhou para longe. Então ela pegou a caixa, folheando e procurando nossas melhores fotos na praia.
Eu estava de pé com roupa de surf até a cintura. Corinne estava retorcida em volta de mim de frente, as pernas em volta da minha cintura, os braços caídos sobre os ombros e as mãos no meu cabelo. Sua cabeça estava jogada para trás em um riso, a alegria irradiando da foto. Eu a segurava ferozmente, meu rosto virado para vê-la. Havia gratidão lá e admiração. Afeição. Desejo. Estranhos pensariam que era amor.
Corinne se inclinou, olhando para a foto, e então para mim. Sua expectativa era tangível, como se alguma epifania monumental fosse me atacar. Ela brincou com seu colar e eu percebi que era um que eu tinha dado a ela, um pequeno coração de ouro em uma corrente simples.
Pelo amor de Deus. Eu nem sequer me lembro de ter tirado essa maldita foto ou onde estávamos na época, e isso não importa.
“O que você espera que essas fotos provem, Corinne? Nós namoramos. Nós terminamos. Você se casou, e agora eu também. Não há mais nada. ”
“Então por que você está ficando tão chateado? Você não é indiferente, Gideon. ”
“Não, eu estou irritado. Isso só me faz apreciar mais o que eu tenho com Eva. E sabendo que essas fotos vão machucá-la com certeza não me faz sentir sentimental sobre o passado. Este é o nosso último adeus, Corinne. “Eu segurei o olhar dela, certificando-me de que ela viu minha decisão. “Se você voltar aqui, eu não vou te ver.”
“Eu não vou voltar. Você tem que- ”
Scott apitou através do telefone e eu atendi. “Sim?”
“Senhorita Tramell está aqui para você.”
Debrucei-me sobre a mesa novamente, tocando no botão que abria as portas. Um momento depois, Eva entrou.
Será que algum dia quando eu vê-la, eu não sentirei o deslocamento da terra debaixo dos meus pés?
Ela deu uma parada abrupta.
Corinne falou primeiro. “Olá, Eva.”
Me endireitei, eu joguei a foto de volta na caixa e fui para minha esposa. Em comparação com Corinne, ela estava vestida modestamente em uma saia listrada preta e uma blusa sem mangas de seda que brilhava como uma pérola. A onda de calor que eu sentia era toda a prova que eu precisava a respeito de qual mulher era mais sexy.
Eva. Agora e para sempre.
A atração que eu sentia me chamou do outro lado da sala em passos rápidos, longos.
Anjo.
Eu não disse a palavra em voz alta, não queria que Corinne ouvisse. Mas eu podia ver que Eva sentiu. Peguei sua mão, sentindo um arrepio de consciência que intensificou o meu aperto.
Ela deslocou-se para olhar para trás e reconhecer a mulher que havia sido sua rival.”Corinne.”
Eu não me virei para olhar, meus olhos estavam apenas em Eva.
“Eu tenho que correr”, disse Corinne atrás de mim. “Essas cópias são para você, Gideon.”
Incapaz de tirar meu olhar da minha esposa, eu falei sobre o meu ombro. “Leve-as com você. Eu não quero elas “.
“Você deve terminar de olhar elas”, ela respondeu, aproximando-se.
“Por quê?” Ainda mais irritado, olhei para Corinne quando ela parou ao nosso lado. “Se eu tiver algum interesse em vê-las, eu sempre posso folhear o seu livro.”
Seu sorriso ficou mais forçado. “Adeus, Eva. Gideon. ”
Quando ela saiu, eu dei outro passo para minha esposa, fechando o final da distância entre nós. Eu a peguei do outro lado, inclinando-me sobre ela para sentir o cheiro de seu perfume. Quando ele permeou os meus sentidos, senti a calma derivar através de mim.
“Estou feliz que você veio.” Eu sussurrei as palavras contra sua testa, precisando de cada ligação eu pudesse para me controlar. “Eu sinto tanto a sua falta.”
Fechando os olhos, ela se inclinou para mim com um suspiro.
Sentindo a tensão persistente na dela, apertei mais forte suas mãos já apertadas. “Você está bem?”
“Sim. Estou bem. Eu só não estava esperando para vê-la. ”
“Nem eu.” Tanto quanto eu odiava afastá-la, eu odiava ainda mais a ideia dela vendo estas fotos.
Voltando à minha mesa, eu coloquei a tampa de volta na caixa e joguei a coisa toda no lixo.
“Eu sai do meu trabalho”, disse ela. “Meu último dia de amanhã.”
Isso era o que eu queria, o que eu acreditava ser o melhor e mais seguro passo para ela. Mas eu sabia que tinha sido uma decisão difícil para ela tomar. Eva amava seu trabalho e as pessoas com quem trabalhava.
Sabendo o quão bem ela poderia me ler, eu mantive meu tom neutro. “Sério?”
“Sim.”
Estudei ela. “O que você vai fazer, então?”
“Eu tenho um casamento para planejar.”
“Ah.” Minha boca se curvou. Depois de dias temendo que ela tivesse dúvidas e fosse desistir, foi um alívio ouvir o contrário. “Bom saber.”
Eu a chamei para mais perto com o dedo.
“Me encontre no caminho”, ela atirou de volta, com um brilho de desafio nos olhos dela.
Como eu poderia resistir? Nós nos encontramos no meio da sala.
Era por isso que nós iriamos enfrentar bem todos os outros obstáculos que enfrentamos: Nós sempre nos encontraríamos no meio do caminho.
Ela nunca seria a esposa dócil que meu amigo Arnoldo Ricci havia desejado por mim. Eva era muito independente, muito feroz. Ela tinha um temperamento que deflagrava sem aviso e uma raia ciumenta que se sentia a um quilômetro de distância. Ela era exigente e teimosa, e ela me desafiava apenas para me deixar louco.
E tudo funcionava de uma forma que nunca tinha funcionado com nenhuma outra mulher, porque Eva era feita para mim. Eu acreditava nisso, como eu não acreditava em mais nada.
“É isso que você quer?”, Perguntei-lhe calmamente, procurando em seu rosto pela resposta.
” Você é o que eu quero. O resto é apenas logística “.
Minha boca estava seca de repente e meu batimento cardíaco acelerou muito rápido. Quando ela levantou a mão para escovar meu cabelo para trás eu peguei seu pulso e apertei a palma da mão na minha bochecha, fechando meus olhos enquanto eu absorvia seu toque.
A semana passada derreteu. Os dias que passamos separados, as horas de silêncio, o medo paralisante… Ela estava me mostrando todo o dia que ela estava pronta para seguir em frente, que eu tinha tomado a decisão certa de falar com o Dr. Petersen. De falar com ela .
Não só ela não se afastou, ela me queria mais. E ela me chamou de seu milagre?
Eva suspirou. Sentindo o último ponto de sua tensão se afastar. Ficamos ali, nos reconectando um com o outro, tomando a força que era necessária. Isso me sacudiu até os ossos, saber que eu poderia trazê-la um pouco de paz.
E o que ela me trouxe?
Tudo.

[OFF] While you wait for Gideon and Eva



ONE WITH YOU -  Excerpt 1

When five o’clock rolled around, I took the elevator up to the heart of Cross Industries. As the car made the swift climb, my pulse rose along with it. After spending the last few days avoiding the one thing in the world I couldn’t resist, I was now going directly to him.
The freedom of that was exhilarating.
I sashayed off the elevator on the top floor, humming a tune. I even flashed a genuine smile at the receptionist as I waited for her to buzz me through the glass security doors. There was a second where I registered the way she looked at me with distaste, then I brushed it off. There were a lot of people who didn’t want me with Gideon.
They could all go fuck themselves. Asshats.
I also registered the ways heads turned to follow me as I made my way toward Gideon’s office. Curious gazes. I couldn’t blame them. For one, I was practically dancing on my feet at the end of the business day, when the frenetic pace of working in the city left most New Yorkers drained. And two, Gideon Cross was an enigma. Everyone wanted to know what his private life was like and I was the core of that.
When I turned the corner into the reception area of Gideon’s office, Scott stood to greet me. Sharply dressed in a pale blue dress shirt and crisp navy slacks, he was the first salvo in the impressive arsenal of impressions one received when meeting with Gideon.
Beyond him was the wall of glass that separated Gideon’s office from the rest of the floor. When it was clear, visitors could see Gideon at work against the backdrop of Manhattan, his tall and powerfully lean body dominating the eye despite the multimillion-dollar view framing him. Right then, though, the glass was opaque, which slowed my stride.
“Is he busy?” I asked.
But Scott had already picked up the phone. “Miss Tramell is here for you, Mr. Cross.”
And just like that, the door glided open and invited me in.
I smiled. “Thanks, Scott.”
His eyes sparkled. “Anytime.”
With renewed excitement, I walked into Gideon’s office. Then I pulled up short again. He wasn’t alone.
Gideon half-sat on the front edge of his desk, his powerful thighs straining the flawless fit of his black trousers. His suit jacket hung in its usual place on the coatrack, leaving him dressed in a sleek black vest and pristine white button-down shirt. The tips of his inky hair brushed his collar and the sculpted line of his jaw, the perfect frame for that incomparable face that was instantly recognizable to anyone.
In his hand, he held a photo. And standing close enough to brush against him was Corinne Giroux, the woman he’d almost married. She was as leggy and striking as my husband, her hair as dark and glossy, her face classically beautiful. She wore a red strapless dress, showing off skin that was like rich pale cream.
I hated how the sight of her made my stomach knot. She wasn’t a threat. I knew that. It was my own insecurities that weakened me. But I was working on that.
Corinne’s head lifted and her aqua gaze settled on me. The line of her lips tightened for a moment, then curved into a razor sharp smile. “Hello, Eva.”
Gideon unfolded in the way he had that was both powerfully elegant and dangerously sexy. He dropped the photo in a small red box sitting on his desk and came toward me, his long legs eating the distance between us.
Angel.
He didn’t speak aloud, but I saw his lips form the word, felt the impact of it in the way he looked at me. His hand reached for mine, squeezing.
I shifted to look past him. “Corinne.”
She was reaching for her purse, which had been resting on the desktop next to the box. “I have to run. Those copies are for you, Gideon.”
I could tell from the weight of it that his gaze never left my face. “Take them with you.” The rough velvet of his voice shivered through me. “I don’t want them.”
“You should finish going through them,” she said, approaching.
“Why?” He glanced at her when she drew abreast of us, his blue eyes as sharply cold as shards of ice. “If I have any interest in seeing them, I can always find them in your book.”
Her smile tightened again. “Good-bye, Eva. Gideon.”
She left, leaving behind a thick tension. It was hard for me, imagining them enclosed together in Gideon’s office, the glass frosted for privacy as they looked at images of their time together.
Gideon took another step toward me, bringing our bodies together so that even a sheet of paper couldn’t slide between us. He caught my other hand, his head bowed over me.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmured, his lips brushing my forehead. “I miss you so much.”
The depth of his love was conveyed in his tone and I sank into it, my eyes closing.
His grip on my hands tightened. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”
“Neither was I.” He backed away, holding onto my hands until the growing distance pulled us apart. His reluctance to let me go, to move away, mirrored how I felt. A sense of desperation was there, heavy and painful. The time we’d spent apart had rocked us both.
I watched him walk to the desk, put a lid on the box, and then drop it into the trash. I won’t lie; I wanted to see them. The desire to do that was so strong I had to fight the urge to reclaim the box.
But I didn’t. For the same reason I forbade Gideon from watching the video of my time with Brett. Our exes were in our pasts and they were going to stay there.
Which didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to have a few words with Corinne.
Gideon hit the control that closed his office door again.
“I quit my job,” I told him. “Friday’s my last day.”
His face gave nothing away, but something hot flared in his gaze. “Did you?”
“Yep.”
He returned to the position he’d been in when I entered, leaning back against the smoked glass of his desk. “What’s next for you, then?”
“I’ve got a wedding to plan.” And some loose ends to tie up. But we’d get to those later.
“Ah.” A small smile touched his mouth and sent tingles racing through my veins. “Good to know.”
He beckoned me closer with a crook of his finger.
“Meet me halfway,” I countered.
We met in the middle of the room.
“Is this what you want?” he asked me quietly, his gaze searching my face.
You’re what I want. The rest is just logistics.”
He wet his lips with a slow swipe of his tongue and I nearly moaned aloud. Staying out of his bed was going to kill me, but it had to be done.
Still, I couldn’t resist lifting my hand to brush an errant strand of his hair back from his forehead. When I realized what I was doing I tried to stop, knowing that every touch sent us down a dangerous path of temptation.
Gideon caught my wrist in mid-air. A heartbeat later his cheek was pressed against my palm, his eyes closed as he absorbed my touch. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of my perfume.
Abruptly, the strain that had tightened his posture left him. I felt it slip away. More, I felt something shift inside me, too. The power of it sent me reeling.
With a single touch we could center each other.
This was what we had. What we were fighting for.
And we were going to win.

 Excerpt 2
 “More flowers?” Arash Madani drawled as he strolled into my office through the open glass double doors.
My lead attorney walked over to where Eva’s white roses decorated the main seating area. I’d had them placed on the coffee table in my direct line of sight. There, they had been successfully drawing my attention away from the stock tickers streaming on the wall of flat screens behind them.
The card that accompanied the flowers sat on the smoked glass of my desk and I fingered it, rereading the words for the hundredth time.
Arash pulled a rose out and lifted it to his nose. “What’s the secret to getting sent some of these?”
I sat back, absently noting that his emerald-hued tie matched the jeweled decanters decorating the bar. Until his arrival, the brightly colored carafes and Eva’s red vase had been the only spots of color in the monochromatic expanse of my office. “The right woman.”
He returned the flower to its vase. “Go ahead, Cross, rub it in.”
“I prefer to gloat quietly. Do you have something for me?”
Approaching my desk, he grinned in a way that told me he loved his job, although I never doubted it. His prey drive was nearly as highly developed as my own.
“The Morgan deal is coming together nicely.” Adjusting his tailored slacks, he settled into one of the two chairs facing my desk. His style was slightly flashier than mine, but couldn’t be faulted. “We’ve ironed out the bigger points. Still finessing some clauses, but we should be ready to proceed by next week.”
“Good.”
“You are a man of few words.” Casually, he asked, “You up for getting together this weekend?”
I shook my head. “Eva may want to go out. If so, I’ll try to talk her out of it.”
Arash laughed. “I gotta tell you, I expected you to settle down at some point–we all do, eventually–but I thought I’d have some warning.”
“So did I.” Which wasn’t quite the truth. I never expected to share my life with anyone. I’d never denied that my past shadowed my present, but I saw no need to share that past with anyone before Eva. It couldn’t be changed, so why rehash it?
Standing, I walked to one of the two floor-to-ceiling walls of windows framing my office. I took in the city that sprawled in urban splendor beyond the glass.
I hadn’t known Eva was out there, had been afraid to even dream of finding the one person in the world who would accept and love every facet of me.
How was it possible that I’d found her here, in Manhattan, at the very building I’d had built against sound advice and at great risk? Too expensive, they’d said, and unnecessary. But I’d needed the Cross name to be memorable and mentioned in a different way. My father had dragged our name through the mud; I’d lifted it to the heights of the most relevant city in the world.
“You showed no sign at all you were leaning that way,” Arash said behind me. “If I remember correctly, you tagged two women when we blew out Cinco de Mayo and a few weeks later, you’re telling me to draft an insane prenup.”
I surveyed the city, taking a rare moment to appreciate the hawk’s-eye view afforded me by the height and position of the Crossfire building. “When have you known me to delay sealing a deal?”
“It’s one thing to expand your portfolio, another to reboot your life overnight.” He chuckled. “So what are your plans, then? Breaking in the new beach house?”
“An excellent idea.” Taking my wife back to the Outer Banks was my goal. Having her all to myself had been heaven. I was happiest when I was alone with her. She revitalized me, made me anticipate living in a way I never had before.
I’d built my empire with the past in mind. Now, thanks to her, I would continue to build it for our future.
My desk phone flashed. It was Scott, on line one. I pressed the button, and his voice came through the speaker. “Corinne Giroux’s at reception. She says she needs just a few minutes to drop off something for you. Because it’s private, she wants to give it to you personally.”
“Of course she does,” Arash chimed in. “Maybe it’s more flowers.”
I shot him a look. “Wrong woman.”
“If only my wrong women looked like Corinne.” He pushed to his feet and headed out. “Good luck.”
I glanced at the clock. Quarter to five. “Mrs. Giroux can have ten minutes.”
It wouldn’t take longer than that for me to say what needed to be said.
Through the glass wall separating my office from the rest of the floor, I watched Scott stand to greet Corinne as she rounded the corner. I noted the way she smiled at him, then Arash as he passed her, before turning her head to catch my gaze. Her smile widened further, transforming her from a beautiful woman to a stunning one. I could admire her the way I would admire anything except Eva—objectively, dispassionately.
Now happily married, I could fully grasp what a horrible mistake it would have been to marry Corinne. It was unfortunate for all of us that she refused to see it.
I stood and rounded my desk.
She glided into my office on red stilettos. The strapless dress she wore was the same hue as the shoes, and showed off both her long legs and pale skin. She wore her hair down, the black strands sliding around her bare shoulders. She was the polar opposite of my wife and a mirror image of every other woman who’d passed through my life.
“Gideon. Thank you for seeing me.”
“Corinne.” Leaning back into my desk, I crossed my arms. “I don’t have long.”
“They told me.” She smiled, but her eyes, the color of aquamarines, were sad.
She had a small red box tucked under her arm. When she reached me, she pulled it out and offered it to me.
“What is this?” I asked, without reaching for it.
“These are the photos that will appear in the book.”
My brow arched. I found myself unfolding and accepted the box, driven by curiosity. It hadn’t been too long ago that we’d been together, but I scarcely remembered the details. What I had were impressions, big moments, and regret. I’d been so young, with a dangerous lack of self-awareness.
Corinne set her purse down on my desk, moving in a way that brushed her arm against mine. Wary, I reached over and hit the button that controlled the opacity of the glass wall.
If she wanted to put on a show, I’d make sure she didn’t have an audience.
Taking the lid off the box, I was confronted with a photo of Corinne and myself entangled in front of a bonfire. Her head was nestled in the crook of my shoulder, her face tilted up to me so I could press a kiss to her lips.
The memory assailed me immediately. We’d taken a day trip to a friend’s house in the Hamptons. The weather had been cool, fall giving way to winter.
In the picture we looked happy and in love, and in a way, I suppose we were. But I’d refused the invitation to spend the night, despite Corinne’s obvious disappointment. With my nightmares, I couldn’t sleep beside her. And I couldn’t fuck her, though I knew that was what she wanted, because the hotel room I reserved for that purpose was miles away.
So many hangups. So many lies and evasions.
I took a deep breath and let the past go. “Eva and I were married three weeks ago.”
She stiffened.
Setting the box down on the desktop, I reached for my smartphone and showed her the picture that wallpapered my screen—Eva and I sharing the kiss that sealed our vows.
Turning her head, Corinne looked away. Then she reached into the box, flipping through the top few photos to pull out one of us at the beach.
I was standing waist deep in the surf. Corinne was twined around me from the front, her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms draped over my shoulders and her hands in my hair. Her head was tossed back on a laugh, her joy radiating from the image. I gripped her fiercely, my face upturned to watch her. There was gratitude there and wonder. Affection. Desire. Strangers would see it and think it was love.
Corinne leaned over, looking at the picture, then at me. Her expectation was tangible, as if some monumental epiphany was supposed to strike me. She toyed with her necklace and I realized it was one I’d given her, a small gold heart on a simple chain.
For fuck’s sake. I didn’t even remember who took the damn photo or where we were at the time, and it didn’t matter.
“What do you expect these photos to prove, Corinne? We dated. We ended. You married, and now I have. There’s nothing left.”
“Then why are you getting so upset? You’re not indifferent, Gideon.”
“No, I’m irritated. These only make me appreciate what I have with Eva more. And knowing that they’ll hurt her sure as hell doesn’t make me feel sentimental about the past. This is our final good-bye, Corinne. ” I held her gaze, making sure she saw my resolve. “If you come back here, I won’t see you.”
“I won’t be back. You’ll have to—”
Scott beeped through and I picked up the phone. “Yes?”
“Miss Tramell is here for you.”
I leaned over the desk again, tapping the button that opened the doors. A moment later Eva walked in.
Would the day ever come when I would see her and not feel the earth shift beneath my feet?
She came to an abrupt halt.
Corinne spoke first. “Hello, Eva.”
Straightening, I tossed the photo back in the box and went to my wife. Compared to Corinne, she was dressed demurely in a black pinstriped skirt and a sleeveless silk blouse that gleamed like a pearl. The surge of heat I felt was all the proof I needed as to which woman was sexier.
Eva. Now and forever.
The pull I felt drew me across the room in long, quick strides.
Angel.
I didn’t say the word aloud, didn’t want Corinne to hear it. But I could see that Eva felt it. I reached for her hand, felt a tingle of awareness that tightened my grip.
She shifted to look past me and acknowledge the woman who was no rival. “Corinne.”
I didn’t turn to look, my eyes only on Eva.
“I have to run,” Corinne said behind me. “Those copies are for you, Gideon.”
Unable to take my gaze off my wife, I spoke over my shoulder. “Take them with you. I don’t want them.”
“You should finish going through them,” she countered, approaching.
“Why?” Aggravated, I glanced at Corinne when she stopped next to us. “If I have any interest in seeing them, I can always flip through your book.”
Her smile tightened. “Good-bye, Eva. Gideon.”
As she left, I took another step toward my wife, closing the final bit of distance between us. I caught her other hand, leaning over her to breathe in the scent of her perfume. As it permeated my senses, I felt calm drift through me.
“I’m glad you came.” I whispered the words against her forehead, needing every connection I could manage. “I miss you so much.”
Closing her eyes, she leaned into me with a sigh.
Feeling the lingering strain in her, my grip on her hands tightened. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”
“Neither was I.” As much as I hated to pull away, I hated the thought of those photos even more.
Returning to my desk, I put the lid back on the box and tossed the whole thing into the trash.
“I quit my job,” she said. “Tomorrow’s my last day.”
That was what I wanted, what I believed was the best and safest step for her to take. But I knew what a difficult decision it must have been for her to come to. Eva loved her job and the people she worked with.
Knowing how well she could read me, I kept my tone neutral. “Did you?”
“Yep.”
I studied her. “What’s next for you, then?”
“I’ve got a wedding to plan.”
“Ah.” My mouth curved. After days of fearing she had second thoughts and wanted out, it was a relief to hear otherwise. “Good to know.”
I beckoned her closer with a crook of my finger.
“Meet me halfway,” she shot back, with a glint of challenge in her eyes.
How could I resist? We met in the middle of the room.
That was why we were going to come out the other side of this and every other hurdle we faced: We would always meet each other halfway.
She would never be the docile wife my friend Arnoldo Ricci had wished for me. Eva was too independent, too fierce. She had a temper that flared without warning and a jealous streak a mile wide. She was demanding and stubborn, and she defied me just to drive me crazy.
And it all worked in a way it had never worked with any other woman, because Eva was meant for me. I believed that as I believed in nothing else.
“Is this what you want?” I asked her quietly, searching her face for the answer.
You’re what I want. The rest is just logistics.”
My mouth was suddenly dry and my heartbeat too quick. When she lifted a hand to brush my hair back I caught her wrist and pressed her palm to my cheek, my eyes closing as I absorbed her touch.
The past week melted away. The days we’d spent apart, the hours of silence, the crippling fear… She’d been showing me all day that she was ready to move ahead, that I’d made the right decision to talk to Dr. Petersen. To talk to her.
Not only didn’t she turn away, she wanted me more. And she called me miraculous?
Eva sighed. I felt the last of her tension drift away. We stood there, reconnecting with each other, taking the strength we needed. It shook me to the core to know that I could bring her some measure of peace.
And what she brought me?
Everything.

Source: sylviaday.com