Page 66 of Illusive
It was yet another example of how technically proficient the abductors were, and she knew her husband wouldn’t be able to rest until everyone involved was apprehended.
“He’s been on my mind, too.” Dr. Petersen’s voice was kind. “Have you shared your thoughts with him?”
Running a hand through her disheveled hair, she confessed, “We haven’t had much time alone. Not for days now. We were at the hospital most of last night. Ireland’s being released today, but we needed to be there for her. And Gideon’s still at the point where he’s trying to act like everything’s fine.”
“I expected this would be especially difficult for him. Has he had any outbursts of uncontrolled anger?”
“Well…yes.” She thought of him scuffling with Ronan Boudreaux at the masquerade once he’d learned that Ireland had been taken. “But I can’t say he hasn’t had reason.”
“Are you surprised he was so angry, even with good reason to be?”
“I guess. Yes.” She so rarely saw her husband lose control of his temper. Oh, he could get mad and did, but that usually honed his focus, not scattered it. Only once had she seen him struggle with rage, and that had been when Chris apologized for not knowing about or stopping the sexual abuse in Gideon’s childhood. At that time, her husband had been furious at the circumstances. Now, he was aiming all the blame at himself.
“We’ll discuss. I’ve cleared my schedule this afternoon from three o’clock onward. If that timing works for you both, you can let my receptionist know when you’ll be arriving.”
“Thank you so much.” Grateful tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away. Her emotions were very close to the surface, too. When Gideon was off-balance, so was she. “I managed to convince him to stay home today, and I’ll make sure we’re there.”
“Discuss it with him first.” His tone was firm but gentle. “Get his input. Let Gideon pick the time or even decide he’d rather wait until our usual appointment tomorrow.”
“What if he says he can’t fit it in? Or doesn’t need or want to talk about any of it? He can be so stubborn, as you know.”
The good doctor knew everything about them. All their secrets and traumas, their triggers and coping mechanisms. He’d been helping them pick through that minefield since before they exchanged vows.
“We both know there’s no point in dragging him here if he’s not prepared to participate,” Dr. Petersen said evenly. “And pushing him to self-examine when he’s not ready will only increase the panic he’s likely feeling.”
She frowned. Gideon had been frantic at times in their early days, when he’d been determined to make their relationship work while she’d doubted that it could. Butpanic?“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I just know he’s blaming himself for not preventing what happened, and I figured guilt was making him especially uncomfortable around her.”
“Possibly it’s a blend of both. His fear of abandonment drives him in many ways.”
“Oh…” Sudden clarity changed the reason for her tears.
Gideon’s father had committed suicide rather than face a trial for his crimes, his mother had been unable to acknowledge that she’d failed her son because she wasn’t strong enough to accept the truth, and Christopher had resented and antagonized him for years after mistaking Gideon’s remoteness for rejection.
Her husband had been alone and deeply lonely for most of his life until they’d found each other. It had taken marriage and years of therapy for him to believe that she would never leave him and would always love him.
Edoardo appeared in the hallway with Gideon, and both men entered the living room side by side. Lucky was at Gideon’sheels, but spying Eva, the beagle came running over to give licks of happy greetings to the tops of her bare feet.
“I’m going to talk to him now,” she told Dr. Petersen. “I’ll let your receptionist know as soon as possible if we’ll be coming in today.”
“I can also come to you,” he offered. “In fact, that might be best. His environment and rules, rather than mine.”
“Thank you so much. Really. Thank you.”
“We’ll talk soon. Take care until then.”
With her eyes on Gideon, she hung up and set the phone down. Her husband’s face was an austerely beautiful mask, one she recognized for its ability to hide him effectively. She had a special knack for seeing through her husband’s armor. Edo likely didn’t have a clue that Gideon was functioning under duress.
“Coffee, Edo?” she asked. “I’ve made a fresh pot.”
“No, thank you, Eva. I’m wired enough as it is.” Edo wore a sharply tailored suit in vivid blue with a butter-yellow cravat and matching pocket square. His quiff hairstyle flattered him, as did his precisely trimmed beard. He commanded attention with his looks and presence, a valuable knack for a crisis communications director.
Gideon walked Edo to the front door. Her husband wore a black Cross Industries T-shirt and pressed linen slacks, yet somehow still managed to look like a man who ran one of the world’s largest conglomerates. She knew that some of what she’d once believed was innate confidence and command was actually a façade that protected him. What she couldn’t allow him to do was present that false front to her.
She was untying the belt to her robe before the front door latch clicked shut. Leaving the garment behind on the floor of the kitchen, she rounded the island and stepped into the dining room.
Gideon turned back toward her, his biceps straining the sleeve of his T-shirt as he raked a hand through his hair. He froze in place at the sight of her standing naked in the sunlight slanting through the terrace doors.
His expression was blank for a moment, and she could picture his whirlwind of thoughts and emotions suddenly trying to change direction.
