CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They ate in silence. But that was okay. He was sick of hearing himself talk anyway.
He’d been quite deliberate, telling her everything. Making sure she had no illusions about him. Maybe it was because of the way she’d trusted him the night before, or maybe it was because he’d never explicitly told anyone about his past and wanted someone to know. But for whatever reason, it was done now and there was no taking it back.
If he’d been a better man, he would have gone on and told her that he was using her for his own ends. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t a better man. He never would be.
Pushing away his plate, he sat back in his seat and watched her as she daintily ate her bacon, cutting it up into tiny little pieces and using her fork to eat each piece like a real lady.
A real lady he’d had sobbing in his arms the night before as he’d screwed her senseless.
Desire flared inside him and he let it burn, the perversity of having this delicate, sophisticated woman in bed with a beast like him an incredible turn-on. That he was going to get information out of her after telling her all the bad things he’d done, then take her to bed and make her scream again, only made it more erotic.
Yeah, he was a sick fuck but at least he owned it.
Honor met his gaze as she took another bite of her bacon. The look in her eyes was guarded, her expression neutral. He had no idea what she thought about the things he’d told her, and he told himself he didn’t care.
Liar. You do.
That was the thing. He couldn’t afford to.
“I suppose it’s my turn now, isn’t it?” she said after a moment.
“All that shit wasn’t a transaction, little girl. You’re going to tell me about your stepfather whether or not I tell you about my past.”
She speared another bacon piece. “All right. What do you want to know?”
“How did your mother meet him?”
“He was a friend of my father’s. Like I told you yesterday, they were at college together. After Daniel’s death, he … helped Mom. She suffered from depression for a few years, drank a bit. Guy got her out of it.”
Gabriel watched her, the flickering in her eyes, the tightness around her mouth. “What makes you think he’s such a goddamn good man?”
She looked away from him, down to her plate. “I spent those years having to look after my own mother. I was eight, nine. And it was hard. Guy came in and made it all better. Looked after Mom. Looked after me, too. He was there for all my school performances, all my award ceremonies. He was there the way Daniel wasn’t. That’s why I call him ‘Dad.’ Because he was more my father than Daniel ever was.”
The information didn’t sit well with Gabriel. The guy was a fucking rapist so either he hid his evil well or … what? His own mother hadn’t even counted because she was only a hotel maid? That he’d looked after Honor and her mother while he and Corrine …
Oh sure, he cared. Don’t forget that goddamned check.
Hush money. That his mother hadn’t even cashed.
“So apart from his wonderful role-model qualities and his apparently shitty business sense, what else do you know? Did he have any other friends? Colleagues?”
“I’m not sure what else to tell you. No, I don’t know anything about his colleagues. I know he was friends with a few other people from college, again, friends of Daniel’s, too. They used to have get-togethers sometimes at home. Mom would play hostess.” Her brow creased. “If you’re wanting any information about why he’s doing this with Tremain Hotels, I don’t know. He has no enemies. I can’t imagine what kind of thing you think I can tell you.”
Frustration burned. It wasn’t enough. She’d been a child when he’d come into her life and what she knew of him would be colored by a child’s memories. But there was that connection with her father …
“That money came from the same casino your father ran,” he said. “They were friends. He’s involved somehow.”
Honor glanced away. “I … don’t want to believe it. Guy was as shocked as anyone about Daniel’s debts. He wouldn’t…” She stopped. “He didn’t know. He didn’t.”
“And yet he was there for your mother. Just waiting to pick up the pieces.”
Pain flashed through her blue eyes and behind it, a defensive anger. “Why are you so determined to believe there’s something bad behind this?”
“People don’t launder money for fucking fun, sweetheart. And they don’t run businesses purposefully into the ground. It’s not going to be good whatever it is.”
“But you think he had something to do with Daniel’s death. Isn’t that what you’re trying to say?”
“I’m not saying that. Yet the links are there.” And they were missing something, he was sure of it. “It’s too much of a coincidence that Tremain is receiving money from the casino your father used to own.”
She’d gone pale again. “He’s a good man. He is.”
No, he wasn’t. He was a rapist. And the life Gabriel had was the life that Tremain had given him. But if Tremain was running his own company into the ground, then the revenge Gabriel had planned—no, the justice he wanted—would all come to nothing.
He ignored the strange reluctance to push her that had come out of nowhere. “What happened to your father’s debts? How were they paid?”
She looked back down at her plate. “Our belongings were repossessed. My mother’s jewelry, family heirlooms. She had to sell the house. It was … awful.”
It must have been, from the expression on her face. Yet she was damn lucky she even had belongings to repossess. He should have felt righteous anger at the poor-little-rich-girl sound in her voice but somehow, he didn’t. He only felt … sorry for her.
Irritated, Gabriel ignored that feeling, too. “Did the money from that pay them all off?”
“No. We had a shortfall. And that was when Guy stepped in, because he was Daniel’s friend. He helped Mom pay off the rest of the debts.”
Gabriel went still. “He paid them?”
“Yes. The Tremains are from old money and they have a lot of it. Guy was very generous.”
That was the link right there, the link he’d been looking for. For some reason Tremain, who was laundering money for the casino, had also paid off his old friend’s debts to that very same casino. Then married his widow. That could not be a coincidence.
The crease between Honor’s brows deepened. “What are you thinking?”
That strange reluctance sunk its claws into him. This was not the news she wanted to hear. Her world had already been turned upside down and his suspicions weren’t going to make it any easier—if they happened to be true, of course. But he had a horrible feeling they were.
“I’m thinking Tremain married your mother for reasons other than love.”
Her mouth opened in shock, all the remaining color leaving her face. “What are you suggesting?”
“That perhaps he married your mother to hide the evidence of the casino’s debts. Perhaps even that he was paid to do so.”
Honor stood up, the chair scraping harshly on the wooden floor as she shoved it back. “No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “No. That’s ridiculous. He married Mom because he loved her.”
Christ, there it was again. That need to go to her and take her in his arms, comfort her the way he’d wanted to the night before. But again he ignored it.
Whatever Tremain’s real reasons, Honor had to come to terms with the fact that the father figure she loved was not the man she thought he was. And never had been. He couldn’t help her with that, she needed to deal with it herself.
“I didn’t say anything about love. The fact remains that he has connections to that casino. It’s too much of a coincidence that he suddenly appears after your father’s death, paying off his debts and marrying his widow.”
“He was Daniel’s friend! He was helping his family out!”
“He’s laundering money for the same casino that your father managed. You can’t tell me that’s not suspicious.”
Honor picked up her plate. “I don’t want to hear any more, please. I can’t … I just can’t…” She stopped and turned abruptly toward the kitchen area, disappearing through the doorway.
Fuck. It.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair and ran a distracted hand through his hair. This was not what he wanted. Yes, he needed to know more about these connections with Tremain and the casino but he also wanted … Honor. He’d gotten information, it was true, but he didn’t like pushing her. Didn’t like making her feel bad. Especially when he wanted her for the whole damn day in his bed. Except after this he was betting that sex wasn’t uppermost in her mind.
Shoving his chair back he got up and went to the kitchen doorway.
She had the dishwasher open, bending over it to put her plate in. The T-shirt rode up her thigh, barely covering her butt. His T-shirt. Jesus. That fact should not be making him hard and yet it did.
Honor straightened, shut the dishwasher, and met his gaze. “I need to go,” she said flatly. “I need some time to get my head around Guy and what he’s doing with the company, let alone having to handle the kind of accusations you’re making.”
He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay here with him.
Gabriel moved away from the doorway, stalking over to where she stood. He put his hands on her hips and backed her up against the counter, holding her there. She tipped her head back, looking up at him, her arms crossed defensively over her breasts. The look in her eyes was guarded but he could see something else beneath it. Pain. Shock.
“If you’re planning on confronting Tremain, like I said, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I have to—”
“No, you don’t.”
“Gabriel, please.”
“No.” He tightened his hold, not only to prevent her from moving. The sweet smell of her was beginning to cloud his own senses and right at this moment, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than pick her up and put her on the counter, bury himself inside her.
She looked away from him, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Hell, she could probably feel the fucking hard-on in his jeans. “I’m not going to warn him or anything,” she said thickly. “I just…”
“Need to get away from me,” he finished. It wasn’t a question, he knew. Because he was the one who’d shattered her world and when she wanted to protect herself, she withdrew.
She didn’t answer but her throat moved as she swallowed, thick black lashes veiling her gaze.
“Fuck that,” he said. “Getting away from me isn’t what you need.”
“Of course,” she responded, her voice edged with sarcasm. “And I suppose you’re going to inform me exactly what it is I need? Since I don’t understand my own feelings.”
Gabriel cupped her face between his palms, turning her to face him.
She tried to pull away but he didn’t let her, tipping her head back so their eyes met. “Don’t,” she said thickly, her lashes falling as if trying to hide from him.
But he saw the sheen in her blue gaze anyway. Fuck, she was crying.
He didn’t understand comfort. Didn’t understand how to make someone feel better because no one had done that for him. The only thing he remembered from childhood was the kisses his mother used to give him when he’d hurt himself. Kisses that had stopped the moment he’d gotten old enough for her to see another man in his face. The man who’d raped her. He’d been ten.
After that there had been no more kisses. No more hugs. His mother had tried not to touch him at all. Only given him lectures on how important it was to be good. Obey his teachers. Obey God. Because the devil knew the evil in men’s hearts and could use it for his own ends.
Shit, the devil had already used him.
“You’re crying.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek, feeling the wetness against his skin. “For him?”
She didn’t speak for a long moment. “I loved him,” she said eventually. “I mean, I still do. He’s … my father. But if all of this is true? It means everything is a lie. Every single thing. And I thought … I thought all the lies were finally over.”
There was pressure inside him, tension pulling tight. He didn’t know quite what he was doing, but like he had last night, he’d taken something from her. Something that had been precious. Which meant he had to give something back.
An eye for an eye. At least that was what the Reverend had always taught him.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” And he was sorry. Sorry that she was hurt. Because he was starting to realize that seeing her in pain made something inside him hurt, too.
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault. And I shouldn’t be blaming you for it.”
He stroked her cheek again then let his thumb move to her mouth, slowly tracing the line of her lower lip. She shivered.
No, shit, he didn’t know how to give her comfort. But there was always pleasure. He knew how to give her that. Perhaps it would be enough.
Gabriel bent his head and covered her mouth with his.
She stiffened but he didn’t let her go. Gently he pressed against her lower lip with his thumb, opening her mouth, letting him inside. Honor made a soft sound. Then the stiffness gradually left her body and she leaned into him, her hands on his chest, her mouth opening under his, kissing him back.
Desire began to rise, hungry and dark, but he held it back because the kiss was sweet. Sweeter than any other kiss he’d had before and for some reason, he wanted to hold onto that.
Eventually though, sweet wasn’t enough.
He lifted his head. “We don’t have to think about this now. What I want is you in my bed, like I said.”
She was flushed, her breathing fast. “Okay. But afterward … I need some space, Gabriel. Some time to sort things out about Dad. A few days at least.”
That’s a good idea. She’s getting to you and you know it.
The thought was uncomfortable, but this time he couldn’t deny the truth of it. She was getting to him. Here he was, kissing her sweetly for fuck’s sake, because he didn’t like the fact that she was hurting. Which hadn’t been part of his plan at all.
So maybe some distance would be good. For both of them.
“Okay,” he said. “A few days.” Then he gripped her chin in his hand, tilted her head back, and kissed her again.
And this time he didn’t stop.
* * *
Honor let herself into the town house where her mother lived with Guy. It wasn’t far from Central Park, an expensive, elegant neighborhood. Very much her mother’s kind of thing.
She stood for a moment in the quiet hallway, letting the icy chill from the winter outside dissipate as heat seeped into her. Her mother liked to be warm and usually had the central heating turned up way too high. Pleasant for the first five minutes and then it got kind of uncomfortable.
Once her feet had unfrozen themselves, she stripped off her coat and gloves, holding them over her arm as she went down the hallway to the front lounge area, putting her head around the door.
Her mother, dressed in her usual string of pearls and designer dress, probably Chanel, was sitting on the sofa with Mary, her housekeeper, going over the pages of a magazine Mary was holding.
Honor didn’t say anything for a second, just looked at her mother, grief lying heavy at the back of her throat.
Elizabeth was a porcelain doll of a woman, always beautifully dressed and made up. Her hair was still black—Honor knew she kept dyeing it religiously to keep the gray away. The lines of age and grief around her eyes and mouth showed, but even those weren’t as deep as they should have been. Botox was her mother’s best friend, since Elizabeth’s vanity stopped short of surgery.
But her mother’s youthful appearance couldn’t hide the air of fragility that surrounded her. A fragility that went deep.
Honor swallowed. What the hell was she doing here? What did she hope to achieve?
She’d promised Gabriel she wouldn’t see Guy, at least not yet, not until they had some concrete evidence, yet Honor hadn’t been able to stay away.
She’d wanted to see her mother. Not to tell her about everything Gabriel had discovered, but mainly to determine whether her marriage to Guy had been a lie. That relationship had been a constant for the last fifteen years of her life, given her a safe and stable home after the chaos surrounding her father’s death. And to discover even that had been a falsehood …
That her father had been covering up a double life as a casino boss had hurt, yet given the secrets he’d hidden from his family, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising. But the thought her stepfather had lied both to her and to her mother, for years, was devastating. What if Guy had never loved her mother at all? What if he’d been paid to make it look like he did?
What if he never loved you either? Just like Daniel didn’t.
Honor didn’t want to think about that. It was too raw. Too personal. She was here for her mother and that was it.
“Hi, Mom,” she said.
Elizabeth looked up, her face breaking into a smile. “Honor, darling!” She got up from the sofa in a graceful movement, coming over to her daughter and enveloping her in a Chanel No. 5–scented hug. “This is a surprise!”
“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind me coming over without calling first. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“No, of course I don’t. Mary, would you mind getting us some coffee? We can go over the menus this afternoon.”
The housekeeper smiled. “No, of course not. Here, Miss St. James, let me take those.” She took Honor’s outerwear and went bustling off to deal with them.
“Come sit.” Elizabeth took Honor’s hand and led her over to the sofa, sitting down with her. “How was Vermont?”
Was there any point talking about Gabriel?
No. That’s one relationship you definitely don’t want Guy knowing about.
Honor didn’t like the automatic thought, as if Guy were guilty already. But then, maybe it was better for her mother not to know. Because, God, she really didn’t know herself what was going on there either.
She’d woken up that morning alone, Gabriel apparently having left for work. There had been a note in the kitchen near the coffeepot telling her he’d be in touch but that was it. No mention of what was going on between them and what it meant.
Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe a couple of nights of hot sex was all it was.
Just as well …
“Vermont was beautiful,” Honor said, ignoring the sharp disappointment that twisted inside her at the thought. “Lots of snow.”
“Perfect,” her mother said, smiling. “Guy and I need to take a trip there sometime. Especially during fall when the leaves are turning.”
Here it was. Her cue. “You should. It’s very pretty. Speaking of Guy, how are you two?”
Elizabeth glanced at her in surprise. “Us? We’re fine, darling, why do you ask?”
“Oh, no particular reason. I just … wonder sometimes.”
“Well, don’t.” Her mother patted her hand. “Guy and I are fine. Everything’s okay.”
But everything wasn’t okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.
The pressure of all the secrets pressed in on her and there was a moment where she couldn’t breathe. “Mom,” she began.
From out in the hall came the sound of the front door opening and closing. Then a familiar voice calling, “Lizzie?”
Her mother’s face lit up. “In here, darling!”
And if Honor hadn’t been able to breathe before, she certainly couldn’t now, especially when Guy’s tall figure suddenly appeared in the doorway.
He smiled when he saw her. “Honor, how nice to see you. And great timing. I’ve been meaning to call you.”
Smile, you idiot. Otherwise, he’s going to know something’s wrong.
From somewhere, Honor found a smile and stuck it on, her face feeling stiff. “Oh, yes, I’ve been … busy for the past couple of days.”
He came into the room, bending to kiss his wife and Honor knew a hug was going to be expected. She made herself get up and give him a brief, unsubstantial embrace before sitting back down again. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” he said. “Playing hooky from work, like me?”
“Oh, no, Wes is holding down the fort for me this morning. I wanted to see Mom, say hi.”
He sat down in the armchair opposite them. “Well, it’s nice to see you. Darling,” he said to his wife, “I need to talk to Honor about some business stuff. Would you mind giving us a few minutes?”
“Business,” Elizabeth said with some exasperation. “That’s all you seem to want to talk about these days.” Nevertheless, she got up, smoothing down her dress. “Well, I’ll go and see if Mary needs a hand. You two get the boring stuff over and done with so we can talk about more interesting things when I get back.”
Honor swallowed, nervous tension gathering inside her as her mother left the room. She knew Guy hadn’t told his wife about Tremain Hotels failing because he hadn’t wanted her to worry—at least that’s what he’d told Honor. And the fact that he wanted Elizabeth to leave the room meant he wanted to talk about that now. God, she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
As the door shut behind his wife, Guy leaned forward, the smile fading from his eyes, the look on his face serious. “I know I should have organized a proper meeting with you,” he said levelly, “but while I’ve got you here, we may as well discuss Tremain Hotels.”
Honor didn’t let any of her nerves show. “The investment? Woolf Construction is—”
“Actually, it’s Woolf Construction I wanted to talk about.”
Oh, God. Honor didn’t move, kept her expression entirely neutral. “Oh?”
Guy laced his fingers together. “I know you worked hard to get Woolf on board and I appreciate it, Honor, I really do. But…” He hesitated. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse his money.”
The nervous tension sitting in her gut wound tighter. She allowed herself a frown. “Dad, you know that’s a—”
“A bad decision? I realize it’s not in our best interests, no. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to put my foot down. The man is little more than a criminal and I don’t want him associated with my hotel chain.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to find another investor. I had a lot of trouble even getting him.”
“Yes, I understand that.” He gave her a smile that only wound her tighter. “You put a lot of time and effort into saving Tremain and for that I’m grateful. But it’s time for me to deal with this mess myself. Okay? I’ll find another investor.”
Something broke inside her. Because there could be only one reason he wanted to handle it himself: he didn’t want Gabriel’s money to save the company. He didn’t want to save the company at all. He wanted it to go down.
It was all true.
An expression of concern creased his forehead, his blue eyes searching her face. “I’m sorry, dear girl. I didn’t mean to upset you but—”
“It’s okay,” she said, pleased with herself that she sounded together and only vaguely worried. “But you know that’s the very opposite of what I’d advise.”
He smiled at her again, slightly wistful. “Yes, I know.”
“What if you don’t save it? You’ve got my money invested, too, don’t forget that.”
His gaze flickered. “I haven’t forgotten, believe me. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get every cent back.”
Interesting that he didn’t say “the company will be safe.” Because her getting her money back and his company not going bankrupt weren’t quite the same thing.
“You have a plan?” she asked, fighting the nausea inside her. Might as well get the info while she could.
“I do.” He put his hands on the arms of his chair and levered himself out. “But I’m going to keep that to myself at the moment. Suffice it to say, I think it’ll work. Now, I wonder where your mother’s got to?”