And Cary Taylor is listed on the rental agreement for your apartment." The room spun. No way... My cell phone. My credit card. My fucking apartment. I couldn't breathe. Between my mother and Gideon, I felt claustrophobic. "Eva. Jesus. You're white as a ghost." He shoved a glass into my hand. "Drink." It was the Stoli and cranberry. I pounded it, draining the tumbler. My stomach churned for a moment, then settled. "You own the building I live in?" I gasped. "Oddly enough, yes." He moved to sit on the table, facing me, his legs on either side of mine. He took my glass and set it aside; then warmed my chilled hands with his. "Are you crazy, Gideon?" His mouth thinned. "Is that a serious question?" "Yes. Yes, it is. My mom stalks me, too, and she sees a shrink. Do you have a shrink?" "Not presently, but you're driving me crazy enough to make that a possibility." "So this behavior isn't normal for you
" His voice was quiet as usual -- velvet, muted. I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts. "Why the traffic jam last night?" I demanded, still looking away. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death." "That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He snickered. "You..." I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the heat of my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more amused. "And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he continued. "So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do the job?" Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of humor gone. "Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold. My palms tingled -- I wanted so badly to hit something
any charge of using the document improperly and would attract more attention than issuing it openly." Accordingly, at 6 p.m. the next day, E. M. Hood of the Associated Press was called to Lansing's home, given the message and some background details, and pledged to secrecy on the greatest scoop of the war. The story broke in eight-column streamers in the morning papers of March 1. "Profound sensation," Lansing noted. The nation gasped. In Congress, the House orated patriotically and passed by 403 to 13 a bill to arm merchant ships. But the Senate, more deliberate, wondered whether the whole thing was not just a crude Allied plot. This reaction had been foreseen. Lansing had asked Page to "Please endeavor to obtain copy of German code from Mr. Balfour," but the British had told him that the code was "never used straight, but with a great number of variations which are known to only one or two experts here
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