Reflected in You (Crossfire, #2)

by Sylvia Day

He was Gideon Cross, of Cross Industries, and at the ridiculous age of twenty-eight, he was one of the top twenty-five richest people in the world.

Why? What is the point of this wealth being so extreme?

“You hit me the instant I saw you,” he said gruffly. “I couldn’t look away. I wanted you immediately. Excessively. Almost violently.”

Sounds healthy.

“I’m caught up with you, Eva.” With his head tilted back, Gideon pulled me down for the sweetest of kisses, his firm lips moving gently beneath mine. “I’d kill for you,” he whispered, “give up everything I own for you . . . but I won’t give you up. Two days is my limit. Don’t ask for more than that; I can’t give it to you.”

“Doctor.” Gideon set one ankle on the opposite knee and settled back, creating a picture of unyielding decisiveness. “The only way I’m keeping my hands off her is if I’m dead. Find another way to fix us.”

It’s a sad fact that male models don’t make as much or work as often as the women do.”

Because people think of them as male models? Because women are ornamental, objects to be gazed at whereas a man in that role is seen as an anomaly, an oddity, something outside of the norm hence “male model”?

“Be gentle with him,” he scolded, staring hard at my face. “I have never seen him the way he is with you. I can’t say you are worthy of him, but you can make him happy. I saw that myself. Do it or walk. Don’t fuck with his head.”

He understood, as I hadn’t, that the night had fallen apart because of my jealousy and the deep-seated need I had to make him feel it for himself.

We knew our strengths and played up our assets. But we couldn’t see what made us unique enough for someone to really love us.

It took me a long time to get the words out. No guy wanted a recovering slut for his girlfriend. But Gideon waited patiently. Obstinately. I knew he wasn’t going to let me get out of the tub until I told him about Brett.

Great. She slut shames herself.

“I get it. It didn’t matter how long I showered after I’d been with Anne, it was never long enough to feel clean.”

“I was seriously hurt because of you. Seeing you in another guy’s arms, kissing him . . .” His eyes grew hot and dark. “It shredded me, Eva. Cut me open and left me bleeding. I kicked his ass in self-defense.”

“I’d rather argue with you, angel, than laugh with anyone else.”

“Teaches me. Don’t stick my dick in the wrong chick.”

Knew it. This is bullshit. Slut shaming meeting slut bashing. Even if he’s wrong, his logic is never truly disavowed.

“Are the police investigating?” I asked. “Yes, of course, but I don’t know how much good it will do.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I love Cary dearly, but he’s a tramp. I doubt he can recall all the women and men he’s been with. Remember the charity auction you attended with Gideon? When I bought you that stunning red dress?” “Yes.” I’d never forget it. It was the night Gideon and I first made love. “I’m certain Cary slept with a blonde he danced with that night—while they were there! They disappeared and when they came back . . . Well, I know what a satisfied man looks like. I would be surprised if he knew her name.”

There is some epic slut shaming in this book. Eva’s mother character is flawed and challenged in the text but along with what the Eva says herself and what happens, this idea isn’t really debunked.

“I don’t love him enough.” All traces of levity were wiped from his face, leaving behind the wounded and lonely man I knew all too well. “I can’t be faithful like he wants. Just him and me. I like women. Love them, actually. I’d be cutting off half of who I am. Just thinking about it makes me resent him.”

According to that logic Bisexuals can’t be monogamous?

“He’s bisexual, Trey,” I said softly, reaching out to run a comforting hand down his biceps. “That doesn’t mean you’re lacking.”

Thats pretty awful and unchallenged misperception/bias/homophobia. That’s not an excuse for infidelity.