Mine to Take Page 5

  “Guy Tremain was more a father to me than my real father ever was…”

  Gabriel turned over Honor’s words from the night before in his head. So the feeling was mutual. Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Because he could use that.

  His mother had just been minding her own business, trying to earn money by cleaning hotel rooms to save up for a decent education. Until she’d been raped in one of those hotel rooms. Tremain Hotels to be exact. By Guy Tremain himself.

  Ruining that business, ruining the man, would be poetic justice.

  “Yeah, that makes sense,” he said aloud. “That’s the impression I got from her last night.”

  Alex didn’t respond but some emotion Gabriel couldn’t read flickered in his eyes. Perhaps he missed her?

  “She asked after you,” Gabriel said. “She asked me where you were.”

  The other man looked away. Then he turned and stalked back into the bedroom.

  Gabriel let out a breath. Okay, so Alex may not want to know these things, but Gabriel figured some part of him was hungry for news nevertheless. The mere fact he still kept tabs on his sister after all these years spoke volumes.

  Pushing himself off the couch, Gabriel went over to the bedroom doorway and leaned against it. Alex had pulled on a pair of jeans and was reaching for a T-shirt.

  “Don’t tell me anything else,” his friend said shortly. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.” Alex jerked the T-shirt down then turned to face Gabriel. “I lost the right to know nineteen years ago.”

  “So why bother keeping an eye on her?”

  “Because I didn’t trust Tremain.”

  The news sent a small, cold shock down Gabriel’s spine. He felt himself tense. Honor was small, a delicately built woman. Like his mother had been. Jesus. “Why?”

  Alex met his gaze. “I don’t trust anyone. Not even you, brother.”

  “Good plan.” Gabriel tried to relax, let the tension out. “I wouldn’t either.” Surely Honor wouldn’t have responded so defensively to his criticism of Tremain if something sketchy had gone on? Her response had been genuine, he was sure of it.

  After a moment, Alex said, “So you’re going to invest in this hotel thing then?”

  “Yeah. Seems legit. I got my finance and legal teams onto it this morning so we’ll see what happens.”

  Alex put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. “She … seemed well to you?”

  Well? Interesting word to use for Honor St. James. He could think of other words though. Beautiful. Sexy. Intriguing. Challenging.

  “She did,” Gabriel said, keeping those to himself since brothers didn’t need to know them.

  Alex looked up. “And did she seem happy?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

  The other man looked away again. “Yeah, you’re right, I don’t. Now, where the hell is my phone?”

  * * *

  Honor celebrated the deal with Gabriel Woolf by taking her stepfather out for lunch at Leonard’s, one of the more exclusive restaurants near her office. Guy’s response the night before to the good news had been oddly muted. Especially when she’d mentioned that Gabriel Woolf was going to be one of the investors. But she’d hoped that when she had a chance to speak with him face-to-face about it, he’d understand what a good deal this was going to be.

  That Gabriel Woolf’s money would enable them to dodge an extremely large and lethal bullet.

  Unfortunately it appeared that understanding was not forthcoming.

  Guy’s long, blunt fingers toyed with the napkin across his knee, a slight frown on his handsome face. He was in his sixties, a tall, powerfully built man with a penchant for expensive suits and handmade shoes, and ridiculously vain about his gold hair. Which Honor suspected he dyed to stop the creep of gray.

  “I’m not sure about Woolf,” he said, pushing away the salad he’d only half-eaten.

  Honor tried to find some patience, but it was difficult. She’d thought Guy would be pleased—no, she’d thought he’d be ecstatic—to finally get the backing he needed to save his hotel chain.

  “What’s the problem with him?” Honor asked. “You can’t argue with his money.”

  Guy raised a hand to his perfectly coiffed hair, touched it lightly. “I’m not sure I want a man like him associated with Tremain Hotels.”

  “Why? Because of those ridiculous drug dealer rumors?”

  “They’re not exactly rumors. He was definitely involved with some outlaw motorcycle gang and you know what kinds of things those sorts of people are involved in.”

  She suspected she did. Gabriel Woolf did have the look of a man who would do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. A man who probably had done whatever was necessary. It intrigued her.

  You’re also attracted to him.

  Well, yes. She was. But he was a potential client and she made a point not to go there. It was bad business. Besides, even if he hadn’t been a client, she didn’t have time for a lover these days, not when her company consumed most of her life.

  “Well, okay, so he was involved with some kind of biker gang,” she said. “But that was years ago. He’s a fairly respectable businessman now.”

  Guy smoothed the napkin out with small, precise movements of his fingers. “Forgive me, Honor, but you have no idea what he’s like now.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “Au contraire. I spent a good part of this morning investigating Woolf Construction and not all of it is good.”

  Honor raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “A number of things. Which I’m not going to go into now but suffice it to say I have my doubts. Significant doubts.”

  “Things, Dad? Seriously?”

  “Honor, please.” He picked up the napkin from his knee and put it on the table. “Gabriel Woolf is not someone I want associated with the chain. I want you to find another investor.”

  A burst of irritation went through her. “There are no other investors. That’s the problem. No one wants to touch Tremain.”

  “What about Void Angel? You mentioned Eva King was interested?”

  Yes, she was. But Gabriel had told her, at the end of their meeting the night before, that Eva would put forward money only if Gabriel did. Honor had received an e-mail confirming it from Eva herself.

  “Eva’s conditional on Gabriel. If you don’t want him, you’ll lose her, too.”

  Her stepfather, who never swore, cursed under his breath and looked away over the crowded restaurant.

  What on earth was his problem? What did he know about Woolf that she didn’t?

  “What’s going on?” Honor asked. “I thought you’d be pleased about this.”

  His attention flicked back to her. Then he reached over and patted her hand where it lay on the table next to her wineglass. “I appreciate the work you put into this, dear, I really do. Never doubt that.”

  “I can hear the ‘but.’”

  His gaze became oddly focused. “Are you sure you can’t find any other investors?”

  “Uh, no. I’ve been working on this for months, you know that. No one wants to take on a failing hotel chain in this economic climate.”

  Guy looked pained. “Honor, please.”

  “I’m sorry, but ‘failing’ is the only word for it.” She placed her other hand on the table and looked at him. She didn’t know what his issue with Gabriel Woolf was but he had to put it aside. Because it wasn’t just him who would lose if Tremain went down the drain. There was her mother, too and God knew, she had already been involved in the spiral of bankruptcy and debt with one man. She surely didn’t need to go through it again with another.

  Anyway, that wasn’t even considering all the money Honor had invested in it herself.

  She’d even told herself that there was a chance for some good returns. But that had always been predicated on whether or not she’d be able to get other investors to come to the p
arty. And if she couldn’t?

  No more Louboutins for you …

  No, dammit, it wasn’t about all the pretty things she’d no longer have the money for. It was her reputation as well. She was known as one of the top investors in the city, so how would it look if she made a bad investment herself? Not good, obviously.

  Honor gritted her teeth. “You don’t have a lot of choice, Dad. You either take on Gabriel Woolf or you file for bankruptcy. Those are your only two options.”

  Guy let out a breath and picked up his wineglass. He, too had a taste for the finer things in life. Especially wine. Taking a sip, he frowned at her over the rim of his glass. “There have to be others,” he said, as if expecting her to magically produce them.

  “There aren’t. Believe me.” Trying for calm, she went on, “Think of my mother. She barely survived my dad and his debts. Going through the same thing with you would be a killer.”

  It was true. Elizabeth St. James had been a beautiful trophy wife whose whole world had been her children and the charitable work she’d spent most of her time on. And when Honor’s father had died leaving her saddled with the gambling debt no one had known anything about, she’d fallen apart, leaving an eight-year-old Honor to fend for herself.

  If Elizabeth hadn’t met Guy, Honor shuddered to think what would have happened.

  The look in her stepfather’s eyes changed. Became softer. “Yes, that’s true. And then there’s the money you’ve invested, too, dear girl. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

  Honor wanted to wave that away but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Money was important. People liked to think it wasn’t, that it couldn’t buy you happiness but those people didn’t know what it was like not to have it. To have everything taken away, leaving you with nothing. She still remembered the debt collectors. The look of shock on her mother’s face as one of them had wrenched the diamond tennis bracelet off her wrist. The lack of understanding in her expression. How could they owe money? Her husband was an eminent lawyer, earning six figures.

  But of course, as they’d found out, that wasn’t all he was.

  “Well, yes,” Honor said. “There’s that, too. But it’s your company. You have final say.”

  Slowly Guy eased back in his chair. “What was he like?”

  “Who?”

  “Gabriel Woolf.”

  That didn’t take much thought. “Smart. Sharp.” Sexy. “Dangerous.”

  Guy’s expression darkened. “So you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, okay, I do. But regardless of what he was like, it’s his money that counts.”

  “I suppose so.”

  At that moment, Honor’s phone began to ring. She glanced down at the screen and felt a small shiver go down her spine as she saw the number. Gabriel.

  “It’s him,” she said. “So is that going to be a yes?”

  Her stepfather was scowling at the phone.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes,” he said at last. “Since we have no choice.”

  A certain amount of relief poured through her, though she didn’t let it show. “Great,” she breathed. Then picking up the phone, she hit the answer button. “Hello, Mr. Woolf.”

  “You’ve got me on your phone already? I’m flattered.” The roughness of his deep voice made something clench hard in her stomach.

  She tried to ignore the feeling. “Don’t be. I have all my business contacts programmed into my phone. So you’ll be pleased to know my stepfather has okayed Woolf Construction as an investment partner.”

  “Not that he had any other choice, am I right?”

  “Oh, we had choices. Your offer was merely the best.”

  “But you’re pleased, aren’t you, little girl?”

  “Am I?”

  There was a small pause. “Oh, come on. Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t find out about your own investment in Tremain?”

  Irritation crept under her skin like a burr. Dammit. She hadn’t been ready for him to find that out just yet. “Since it wasn’t a secret, no, I didn’t think that,” she said coolly, aware of Guy’s gaze on her from across the table.

  “So you do have something to lose if this doesn’t pan out.”

  “We all have things to lose, Mr. Woolf.”

  “Very cryptic, sweetheart. I think I’m going to enjoy finding out what those things of yours are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have a condition before I invest a dime in Tremain.”

  Honor went still, conscious of her heartbeat accelerating. A condition from Gabriel Woolf? She had a feeling that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. “What is it?” she asked with as much of her earlier cool as she could muster. “And if this is a thinly disguised pickup line, you can think again.”

  A soft, surprisingly seductive laugh came through the phone. “Oh, baby, none of my pickup lines are ever gonna be thinly disguised, believe me. If I want you, you’ll know all about it straight up.”

  She didn’t know why that comment should make her feel breathless, set her heartbeat racing. Because though he was a very attractive man—yes, he was, she could admit that to herself—he wasn’t a man she would ever want. She preferred men with more sophistication, who were far more civilized than he was.

  “Tell me.” She hoped she sounded poised and calm.

  “If I’m investing in Tremain Hotels, then I’m going to want to see what I’m getting for my investment.”

  “Well, certainly I can organize a visit to—”

  “I haven’t finished,” he interrupted mildly. “I don’t want a visit. I want a personal tour.”

  Honor flicked a glance at Guy. Her stepfather looked back. A cold expression had settled into the lines of his face. It made him look like a stranger. “What do you mean by personal tour?”

  “What do you think I mean? I want to be shown around one of the hotels personally. By you.”

  A weird shock went through her. “Me? Why me?”

  “You’re a fellow investor, aren’t you? Plus, I’ve heard of your reputation. I’m sure you wouldn’t invest in a bad bet, just like I’m sure if anyone knows all there is to know about the company it’ll be you.”

  She found she was gripping the phone hard. “There are many better people who could show you around, Mr. Woolf. I can even get—”

  “I don’t want anyone else, Honor. I want you.”

  She opened her mouth to voice an instinctive denial. Then stopped herself. What was the big deal? Why was she protesting? His request was reasonable and hell, even if it wasn’t, if he’d made it a condition of his investment, then she had no choice but to agree to it. Just like her stepfather had no choice.

  Guy’s pale blue gaze was intent. “What is he saying to you?” he demanded. It was obvious that even though he couldn’t hear what Gabriel was saying, he didn’t like it one bit.

  Honor took a little breath.

  “Am I interrupting something?” Gabriel asked.

  “I’m not sure you’d care if you were or not.” Honor held up a finger to Guy and mouthed, “Give me a minute.”

  Guy frowned.

  “No, you’re right. I damn well wouldn’t. So, what do you say?”

  Still taken off guard, Honor murmured, “I … I’m not sure I have the time. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

  “I want an answer now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m fucking impatient.” He said the word with a certain amount of relish, as if he wanted to shock her.

  It didn’t. “You’ve said that word before,” she said mildly. “It doesn’t offend me, you know.”

  Again that laugh. “I guess that means I’ll have to find something else then.” And it didn’t sound so much like a threat as a promise. “So, are you going to make the time for me, sweetheart? Or are we going to continue arguing about it?”

  A personal tour. What did it matter? She could do that, couldn’t she? “No,” she replied, in a voice that wasn’t entirely level. �
�I’m sure I have some time in my schedule for you.”

  “Good. Make it a week.” Then he hung up.

  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.