CHAPTER FOUR
“I don’t like it.” Eva sat back on the leather seat, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, glaring at Gabriel.
They were in her limo again, mainly because she was uncomfortable around large groups of men, and the building site Gabriel was currently working on was certainly full of men. He’d offered to meet her in the club but she’d refused, saying she was out and about anyway and was impatient to hear about how things had gone with Honor.
Zac was with her, as he often was, a large, calm, silent presence sitting in the seat beside her.
“I know you don’t like it,” Gabriel said, his hand resting on the hard hat he had on one knee. “But you agreed to let me handle this, Eva. You can’t back out now.”
Eva scowled at him. “I shouldn’t have said yes.”
“Why? What’s the problem now?”
“You’re taking advantage of her. I just know it. Why else would you have told her that Void Angel wouldn’t invest if she didn’t agree to you?”
Yeah, he was taking advantage. But he didn’t have time for other people’s scruples. Sometimes you had to do bad shit for the overall good. Like the way he’d let himself be used as a drug mule when he’d been a kid so he could earn some cash. Money so he and his mother could survive. Like when, years later, he’d become part of the club who used to make those drug runs, working his way up the hierarchy with ruthless determination until he was in a position to kick the drug-dealing scum out of his neighborhood. The brothers hadn’t liked it, but by that stage he’d earned enough fear and respect that no one challenged him.
There were other ways to earn money, after all.
“Collateral damage, Eva,” he said shortly. “Civilian casualties happen in war, right Zac?”
The other man gave him a level stare. “Not when they concern Eva they don’t.”
Zac had always been protective of her. Overprotective as far as Gabriel was concerned. Eva could look after herself, something she’d consistently proven in the five years since she’d joined their little group.
Then again, she had quite definite opinions when it came to protecting women. Gabriel had his suspicions as to why—he knew for a fact she had an entire Void Angel research team dedicated to hunting down and stopping the white-slave trade. Perhaps if she knew what he was doing, she’d agree with him.
Then again, it wasn’t anything to do with her.
Eva flicked Zac an irritated glance. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t be an asshole. You said you were here to talk about the deal, not be my guard dog.”
Zac’s calm demeanor didn’t change in the slightest. “I’ll do what I need to do, angel. Whether you like it or not.”
Eva opened her mouth, probably to deny this, but then Zac added mildly, “I have to say though, I’m rather keen to find out just what war Gabriel thinks he’s fighting.”
“None of your fucking business,” Gabriel growled, annoyed. “Honor isn’t my main area of interest anyway so calm the hell down.”
Eva gave him a narrow look. “Not your main area of interest? Then what—”
“Tremain,” Zac interrupted softly. “It’s Tremain you’re after.”
Gabriel said nothing. He just looked at the other two sitting opposite him, keeping his face expressionless, letting them draw whatever conclusions they wanted.
“Ah,” Eva said at last. “Okay then.” There was recognition in her gray eyes. Like she knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. “Don’t ask, don’t tell?”
One of the club’s rules. They only shared what they wanted to share. No one pushed for more.
Gabriel inclined his head in an almost imperceptible nod. Maybe that would keep Eva off his back about Honor. Not that the tech CEO had anything to worry about on that score.
Are you sure about that?
He had a sudden flashback to Honor’s smoky voice during their phone call earlier that day. “I have heard that word before. It doesn’t offend me you know…” A flame of pure heat licked up inside him. He did love a challenge and Honor’s words had been all challenge, making him want to find out exactly what would shock her. Mess with all her smooth, perfectly put-together sophistication. Maybe that made him a cliché but who the hell cared?
It’s the devil, his mother would have told him. The devil tempting you to come out and play.
Problem was he’d played with the devil before. And liked it.
“Okay,” Eva said after a long moment. “We’re still good. But if I hear you’re screwing with her—and don’t think I don’t know it’s a double entendre—then I’m pulling Void Angel from the deal.”
Gabriel met her gaze. There was clear, cold certainty in her smoky gray eyes but he caught a glimpse of burning anger beneath that ice. Eva had had some bad shit in her life, just as they all did, and it had left its mark.
“I don’t hurt women, Eva,” he said, wanting to acknowledge that anger because hell, he knew all about anger.
She looked away, down at her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. “Yeah, fine.”
A tense, uncomfortable silence fell.
“Angel, we have another meeting…” Zac’s voice was smooth, gently reminding. Moving the conversation on.
Gabriel gave the other man a smile, one that didn’t have anything to do with amusement. “The information about Tremain doesn’t leave the group. This is mine. Understand?”
Zac’s long mouth curved, amber gaze steady, not in the least bit perturbed by the underlying tone of threat in Gabriel’s voice. “First rule of fucked-up billionaires club is you don’t talk about fucked-up billionaires club. You don’t need to remind me.”
Gabriel gave a hoarse laugh, gripping his hard hat in one hand. “And you can never be too paranoid, Zac.”
“Amen to that,” Eva muttered. “Now get out of the car, Gabe. I’ve got shit to do.”
* * *
“Oh, God, Vi, you’re not meditating again, are you?”
The woman sitting cross-legged on Honor’s battered red velvet couch opened one eye. “I was trying to. Guess I’m not anymore.”
Honor walked into the lounge area of her expensive Upper West Side apartment and sat down in one of the armchairs opposite the couch, kicking off her red leather Jimmy Choos and dumping her purse beside them.
Violet Fitzgerald, rebellious heiress, Honor’s best friend since school, and currently crashing on her couch since arriving back from Paris a week ago, watched her with assessing blue-green eyes. The way she was sitting, along with her blond dreadlocks and dripping silver jewelry, made her look like an idealistic hippie backpacker in the process of touring around India, “finding herself.”
“What?” Honor resisted the urge to rub her eyes, tiredness creeping into her bones. She hadn’t realized until now how much the stress of having to deal with Guy and the whole debt problem had affected her. And it wasn’t over yet. She still had this week with Gabriel Woolf to contemplate. A whole damn week. She had no idea how she was going to fit that into her schedule but she was going to have to somehow.
“You look tired,” Violet said, settling into the red cushions. “Tough day at the office?”
They really were nothing alike. Violet was all arty and free-spirited, rejecting her old-money New York family and their expectations at the first opportunity. Jetting off to Europe without giving a crap about her responsibilities. Not that Honor could blame her. The Fitzgeralds were a family who placed great stock in doing what was right and proper. They still believed in marriage as the perfect career move for their only daughter, for God’s sake. No wonder Violet had always chafed against the restrictions they put on her.
Unlike Honor, of course. Who’d stuck by her own family. Who took her responsibilities seriously and was still, after all these years, trying to fix what had been broken by her father when he’d taken his own life.
“I am tired,” Honor said. “And yes, tough day at the office.”
Violet smoothed the silk of the wraparound Indian-print skirt she wore, silver bracelets clicking together as she did so. “You work too hard, hon, that’s your problem. You did at school and you’re still doing it.”
“When you own your own business, you have to work hard.”
But Violet wasn’t fooled. “It’s all this stuff with Guy, isn’t it?”
Honor sighed and crossed her stocking-clad feet at the ankles. “Yes. I finally got a backer for Tremain Hotels but…” She stopped. This should be a good feeling, shouldn’t it? So why did she suddenly feel so unsure?
“But what?”
It had been a long time since she’d confided in another person. Keeping up a calm and in-control front was vital to the success of her business, and she’d found keeping her worries and insecurities to herself was a good way of achieving that. Plus, before Guy had come along, her mother had tended to go to pieces at the drop of a hat, so Honor had had to stay strong for her sake.
But keeping up that front was exhausting, and despite the years that had passed with Violet in Europe, the two of them were still best friends.
“The backer is Gabriel Woolf.”
Violet raised a pale, pierced eyebrow. “The construction dude?”
“Yes, the construction dude.”
Her friend’s eyebrow rose a little higher. “The hot construction dude?”
Honor opened her mouth then closed it. Anything she said now would only incriminate her. “If you mean the owner of Woolf Construction, then yes.”
“But that’s great, isn’t it? You were worried you weren’t going to come up with an investor.”
“It is great. It really is.”
“Then why are you scowling?”
Honor tried to unknit her brow. “He … had a few conditions.”
“Uh-huh. And these conditions are…? Come on, hon, I know you like to cultivate reserve but it’s me here, okay? Didn’t I tell you all about that French guy on the metro?”
Oh, yes, Violet had. Violet had told her all about it and even now, Honor wanted to flush with embarrassment at her friend’s full and frank description of her one-night encounter. On a subway. Some things should never be spoken about, even between friends.
“This hasn’t got anything to do with you and that French man,” Honor said primly, pulling at the hem of her black pencil skirt. “Guy wasn’t happy about Mr. Woolf coming on board but—”
“Hey, hey, whoa there.” Violet held up a hand, bracelets making a silvery tinkling sound. “Mr. Woolf?”
This time Honor did flush. “I call all my clients by their title.”
“Bullshit you do. Yesterday you were talking about George this and Eva that.”
“Eva told me she didn’t have a title.”
“And George?”
Damn. There was a persistent crease right down near the hem of her skirt. She really needed to talk to the dry cleaner about that. “Is an old friend.”
“He is not.” Violet folded her arms. “This Woolf guy is getting to you, isn’t he?”
Honor took a breath. She honestly didn’t know why she didn’t want to acknowledge Gabriel Woolf’s effect on her. Maybe it was because admitting it felt like the start of a very slippery slope, one she couldn’t afford to fall down. But then, Violet was a friend. Someone she trusted.
“Yes, okay, so he is,” she said reluctantly.
Violet, bless her, didn’t make any pleased noises or look satisfied. She only frowned instead. “Not good, I take it?”
“No. Not really. Because…” She hesitated. “He’s dangerous, Vi. He … unsettles me. And you know if there was anyone else I could get, I’d get them in a heartbeat. But there isn’t. There’s only him.”
Her friend nodded, chewing on her lip. “Dangerous? How?”
“You must have heard the rumors about him.”
“Hey, I’ve been in Europe for five years. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t take my subscription to People magazine with me.”
“Okay, okay. There are rumors about how he got his start with his company. Drugs and gangs and such.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, hon, but show me the billionaire who hasn’t been involved with something sketchy.”
Unfortunately this was true. As she had good reason to know firsthand. “So that’s not the reason he’s dangerous, I admit.”
Her friend’s turquoise eyes gleamed. “You want him, right?”
“I didn’t … I mean, I’m not—”
“I may not have heard rumors, but I’ve certainly seen pictures of him. He’s hot. Why wouldn’t you want him? Shit, I’d jump his bones in a second.”
Honor could feel another blush creeping up on her. This was stupid. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. With an effort, she stopped fiddling with her skirt and leaned back in her chair. Made herself meet her friend’s interested gaze. “It’s business. Strictly business.”
“Bah, business. You always were such a rule follower.” Violet shook her head, long golden dreads falling over her shoulders. “So what about these conditions then? They’re making you antsy, I can tell.”
A rule follower. Yes, she was at that. But there was nothing wrong with following the rules. As long as you were the one who got to make them. “I have to give him a personal tour of one of Guy’s hotels. For a whole damn week!”
A smile curled one end of Violet’s mouth. “Hon, I think he might like you.”
Heat settled right down low in Honor’s gut. Unexpected and unwanted. She shifted, hoping to get rid of it. “I don’t care what he thinks of me.” Liar. “I don’t have the time for this stupid tour.” An edge of temper had crept into her voice but she didn’t bother to hide it. In fact, it felt good to let a bit of her irritation at the arrogance of Gabriel Woolf out.
Violet fell back against the couch cushions, arms still folded. Grinning, damn her. “Oh, no, no, no. It’s not that you don’t have time for it. You don’t want to go because he makes you hot.”
Honor gritted her teeth silently. “Maybe I’m attracted to him. But’s that got nothing to do with anything. I still don’t have the time to take a week away from work.”
Violet made a skeptical-sounding noise. “Uh-huh. Why don’t you say no then?”
“I can’t. If I don’t do what he wants then he’s pulling his money. Eva King of Void Angel is going to invest, too, but she won’t without Woolf. So if I don’t organize this tour, I’ll lose both our investors.”
“Hmm, sounds like a case of rock versus hard place.” Violet waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Hard places can be nice, you know.”
“Does it always have to be about sex with you?”
“Are you kidding?” Her friend’s eyes opened wide in mock surprise. “What else makes the world go around? And don’t tell me money ’cause then I’d have to kill you.”
Honor sighed. “This isn’t funny, Vi.”
The amused look faded from Violet’s face. “Okay, I hear you. Are you worried about him? I mean, seriously. If you think he’s going to do skanky things—”
“No,” Honor interrupted with absolute certainty. Because she didn’t get that kind of vibe from Gabriel at all. It was more … You don’t trust yourself around him. No. Hell, where had that thought come from? Because it wasn’t that either. Definitely not. “I’m pretty sure he’s not that kind of dangerous. It’s more that I don’t want to make any mistakes around him. Guy’s hotel chain is at stake here. His whole livelihood. I can’t afford to do anything stupid.”
“As if that’ll happen. I don’t think you’ve ever done anything like that in your entire life.”
For some reason that did not feel like a compliment. “Thanks for the confidence. I think.”
“But really, what would stupid entail anyway?”
“Well … you know…”
“What? Falling into bed with the hot construction CEO?”
“Vi, please.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re embarrassed.” Violet unfolded her arms and leaned forward again, elbows on her knees. “You’re adorable when you’re being prudish.”
“I’m not being prudish. You can’t tell me falling into bed with him would be the world’s most fantastic idea.”
“Ah, so you do want to fall into bed with him then.”
Honor eyed her. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. Your skin has a wide and varied vocabulary.”
“I can’t, Vi. It’s business. It’s too important for ridiculous things like sex to get in the way.”
“Sex is not in any way ridiculous. At least not when it’s good.” Slowly, Violet straightened. “I know this is a very personal question but—”
“No, please don’t.”
Violet ignored her. “When was the last time you got laid?”
“Oh please, we’re not having that discussion, are we?”
“Why not? It’s a vital question.”
“For you maybe. I don’t suppose you had any brain waves about dinner?”
“I made a casserole and don’t change the subject.”
Honor blinked. She wasn’t the world’s best cook and last time she’d heard, neither was Violet. “You made dinner?”
“I learned a few things in Paris,” Violet said with a knowing look. “And not all of them were about giving head.”
“Vi, for God’s sake.”
“What?” With a sudden, lithe movement, her friend uncoiled from the couch in a tinkling of bracelets and a swish of silk skirts. “You need a glass of wine. Or twenty. Just wait here, I’ll get you one.”
Honor put her hand over her eyes. No, she didn’t need a glass of wine. What she needed was a good shrink to tell her exactly why she found Gabriel Woolf so damn disconcerting. And fascinating.
A thread of sandalwood perfume drifted near. Honor took her hand away to find her friend standing beside her chair looking concerned.
“Hey,” Violet said. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”
Honor let out a breath. Because the little issue of Gabriel Woolf and her attraction to him wasn’t the only problem. There was something else that had been sitting on the edge of her consciousness, just biding its time. Waiting for her to remember.
The apartment’s thick curtains hid the night glitter of the city outside but it couldn’t keep out the sounds of traffic or the distant blare of sirens. A busy, noisy life going on outside the quiet of the room.
“It’s not just about Gabriel Woolf,” Honor said at last. “There’s also Alex.”
“Alex?” Shock passed over Violet’s delicate features. “But how?”
“The two of them were friends, remember? Woolf told me he’s still in touch with him.”
“Jesus.”
“Yes. It’s going to make for an interesting week.” Understatement of the year. Probably of the whole damn century.
Violet frowned down at her. “This could be good, Honor,” she said after a moment. “You wanted to know what happened to Alex, right? Now’s your chance.”
“Actually I don’t know if I want to. He left without a word and…” She stopped abruptly, the old anger a small hot ball in the center of her chest. No, she wouldn’t let herself feel it. She wouldn’t expend any more emotion on the brother who had abandoned her and her mother. She downright refused to.
Violet was silent and Honor didn’t feel the need to offer any further explanations. Her friend knew the deal anyway, had been the ear Honor had poured out all her teenage angst to back when they were still at school together.
“What about your mom?” Violet said at last. “I would think she’d want to know.”
The exhaustion crept deeper into Honor’s bones. Of course her mother would want to know. Alex’s disappearance had just about killed her. “I guess I really have no choice but to go now.”
Violet moved, her fingers brushing reassuringly over Honor’s where they rested on the arm of her chair. “Don’t worry, hon. You can handle this Gabriel guy. You’ll be fine. Now, how about you kick back while I go pour you a wine?”
Honor only nodded. And hoped like hell that her friend was right.
* * *
The arrangements took Honor nearly a week. Weston did something miraculous and somehow managed to clear her schedule, though it meant working a few twelve-hour days in order to get through the work she already had on her plate so that it wouldn’t back up into unmanageable proportions while she was away. Then she had to organize things with Guy and one of his hotels.
The chain stretched around the globe, but only two had been fully remodeled into Guy’s idea of a luxury eco-hotel, one in Mexico and one in Vermont. Although the idea of Mexican heat appealed to her—especially given the winter New York was currently experiencing—Vermont was closer. Plus Mexico felt too much like a vacation, and this was definitely not going to be a vacation. This was purely business. She was going to have to bring some work with her since Gabriel had insisted on a week, but she really didn’t mind that. Anything to keep her mind on the job and not on the fascinating Mr. Woolf.
She decided not to give Gabriel the choice of which hotel, sending him the details of the Vermont property in a terse and to-the-point e-mail. She hoped he’d respond in a like fashion but—predictably—he didn’t.
A whole minute after pressing send her phone rang.
“Mr. Woolf,” she said, not even bothering to check her caller ID. “You have an issue with the details I sent you?”
“You got a problem with Mexico?”
Honor swiveled her chair around to look out of the windows of her office, staring sightlessly across Midtown New York as Gabriel’s rough, heated voice brushed over her like velvet.
In a building across the street, a man was making himself coffee. Honor concentrated on him, watching him through the windows so she didn’t feel the strange restlessness that gathered inside her as Gabriel spoke.
“Mexico can’t accommodate us,” she lied. “Vermont is closer.”
“Pity. I would have liked to see you in a bikini.”
The man was pouring cream into his cup. Stirring. “I don’t have a bikini,” Honor replied. “Besides, a bikini is hardly appropriate work wear. This is business, Mr. Woolf. In case you’d forgotten.”
“Oh, I hadn’t, little girl. When it comes to business, I never forget.”
“Can we do without the patronizing endearments, please?”
“I was going tell you that I’d stop it with the ‘little girl’ if you stop it with the ‘Mr. Woolf.’ But I’ve decided I like the ‘Mr. Woolf.’ So I tell you what, you pick one endearment and I’ll leave it at that.”
The man across the street was now ladling in some sugar. It appeared he liked his coffee very sweet. Honor took a slow, silent breath. Arguing about names was ridiculous. Pointless. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She knew it was a game he was playing with her, a manipulation, and though every part of her told her it was a bad idea, she couldn’t seem to resist playing it, too.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “How about I stop calling you ‘Mr. Woolf’ and you can be ‘little boy’ instead?”
He laughed, a soft, liquid sound that made her toes want to curl inside her expensive stilettos. “You want to play my game? Is that how this week is going to go? Because I gotta tell you, I’m not at all unhappy about that.”
“I don’t play games, Mr. Woolf. I do business.”
“I’m sure you do. In which case if it’s business you’re after, you’d better stop flirting with me.”
No, she would not react. She would not let him get under her skin. “Time is money, and this conversation has already taken up more of both than I would like. Is there anything more you’d like to talk to me about?”
“No, I think we’re done. The Vermont place looks good.” The heat had vanished from his voice, leaving it rough and cold. “I’ll get a chopper to take us.”
“Thank you but I can make my own way.” Honor made sure her tone was the very essence of politeness. There was no way she was going to be reliant on him for her transportation to and from the hotel. Something told her she’d need to be able to get away in a hurry if she had to.
“Yeah, okay,” he said.
Honor blinked, nonplussed by his capitulation. “Fine. That’s settled then.”
“You sound surprised. Did you want me to insist?”
“No, of course not.”
“You could ride with me instead.” There was the barest hint of amusement in his voice.
“Ride? On what?” She didn’t even know why she was asking since she already knew she didn’t want to “ride” with him.
“My bike. I’ve got plenty of room for you on the back.” Again with the amusement that got under her skin like a burr under a blanket.
“Thank you, but I believe I’ll drive.”
“Of course you will. In that case I’ll see you up there, sweetheart.” He didn’t wait for a response, hanging up almost immediately, leaving Honor feeling vaguely frustrated and annoyed.
Of course you will. The arrogance implicit in that small sentence. As if he knew her. Knew everything about her.
The kitchen across the street was empty, the man making his coffee long gone. But this time Honor didn’t notice.
If Gabriel Woolf wanted to play head games with her, then dammit she’d play them.
But if he thought he was going to win, then he was in for a nasty surprise.