Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (11 page)

“I was wondering if you’d like to go for a ride with me. Shake out the cobwebs a little. Leave business behind for an hour or so.”

“A ride? On what?”

“What do you think? I have a bike.”

“You’re kidding.”

The opaque look faded, a glint of wickedness in the depths of his eyes that should not have been as seductive as it was. “What’s the matter? You don’t like my bike?”

It wasn’t so much the bike—though riding on the back of that huge black machine seemed a little insane—as the thought of wrapping her arms around him, of her legs on either side of his, that fantasy she’d had in the cottage the day before. Such temptation …

“I have no feelings about your bike either way,” Honor said, staunchly ignoring the vision in her head. “But it’s cold and I don’t have the appropriate clothing.”

“And if you were to have appropriate clothing?”

“It’s a moot point since I don’t.”

Gabriel glanced through the trees toward the main building of the hotel. “Okay,” he said in a neutral voice. “Your loss.” Without another word he turned and began striding back along the snowy path to the hotel.

Honor stared after him. What? Gabriel Woolf accepting a refusal? Without even trying to get her to change her mind? Irritated with the strange discomfort that sat in her gut, Honor began walking up the path after his tall figure.

First an apology and then the offer of going out with him. Odd. Didn’t seem like his usual modus operandi. Up until now, he’d been blunt to the point of offensiveness about what he wanted and he certainly hadn’t liked her refusing him.

A man who got his way. That was Gabriel.

So why had he accepted her refusal without a word? More to the point, why did she care? She didn’t want to go for a ride on his big black bike. Not at all.

Perhaps he didn’t really want you to go after all?

But then why would he have asked in the first place?

Honor frowned and shrugged away the thoughts. God, it seemed way too teenage and desperate to be analyzing his intentions so thoroughly. She was a professional woman in her late twenties with her own business and quite enough other things to worry about without being fixated on a man as dangerous and so obviously wrong for her as Gabriel.

A couple of minutes later, Honor stepped back into the hotel foyer, shivering in delight as the warmth of the central heating chased away the winter chill. Gabriel had vanished, God knows where, but she wasn’t about to go after him. Her feet were uncomfortable in the snow boots Lindsay had found for her to borrow on their trek over the hotel’s grounds, and all she wanted to do was get the boots off and sit in front of the fire at the cottage.

“Ms. St. James?”

She looked over to see Heather smiling at her and tapping a couple of extremely large bags sitting on the reception desk. “These came for you.”

“Really? I’m not expecting anything.” Slowly, she walked over to the desk and examined the name on the bags. Hers. Frowning, she pulled open the edge of one and peered inside. Something black and leather was folded up. Her frown deepened. “Where did these come from?”

“A courier brought them in first thing this morning.”

There was store branding on the front of the bags but she didn’t recognize the name. Weird. She looked in bag number two. More leather and something shiny in dark blue. Reaching into the bag, she slowly withdrew the shiny thing. A motorcycle helmet.

“Oh,” she said, understanding beginning to dawn.

“Now you can’t say you don’t have anything appropriate to wear,” said a deep voice from behind her.

God, how did the man manage to move so quietly?

Honor turned and found herself catching her breath yet again.

Gabriel stood behind her, a black motorcycle helmet casually held in one hand. He was wearing his leathers and she still hadn’t forgotten how incredibly sexy he looked in them, even though she quite desperately wanted to.

“What are these?” She waved a hand at the bags.

“A couple of things to wear in case you change your mind about a ride.”

“But I already told you I’m not going on a ride with you.”

“You said you didn’t have anything to wear. Now you do.”

Honor silently wished him to hell. Sadly, he remained standing there. “I have work to do,” she managed, somewhat lamely.

“That’s not the best excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“Isn’t it?” He raised one straight dark brow. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Just you and me and some fresh air.”

She hated the way he kept challenging her as if she was a kid who needed to prove herself. Because she wasn’t a kid. She was a grown woman who didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

But when was the last time a man kept you on your toes like this one?

She couldn’t remember. A long time. Mainly because she preferred easier men.

Against her will, excitement began to kindle in her gut. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said in what she hoped was a level tone. “I’m not scared.”

Gabriel’s mouth curved as he walked over to her, and she couldn’t help tensing up as he came close. He slid his arm around her waist in an easy, affectionate movement, urging her up against his big, powerful, leather-clad body. “Baby, I’ll keep you safe. You know that.” His voice was dark and rough and full of warmth, that smile playing around his mouth.

All for the benefit of the receptionist, naturally. Keeping up the lie he’d perpetrated about them being lovers. It made her want to slap his face and push him away but that would reveal way too much. But deep in his eyes, that challenge glinted. Like he knew how much she hated this and wanted a response from her. As if he relished it.

Adrenaline spiked in her bloodstream, a dangerous rush, and before she quite knew what she was doing, she’d put her hands on his chest and was rising up on her toes, brushing that cruel, smiling mouth with hers. Answering his challenge.

And as soon as she’d done it, she knew it had been a stupid move. Incredibly, ridiculously stupid.

A bolt of something elemental and wild shot straight down her spine. Like summer lightning or the howling force of a hurricane. For a minute she couldn’t move, standing there, her hands pressed to his chest, her mouth touching his, turning to stone as the wildness between them began to grow in a chaos of sparks and flashes of electricity.

Then the voice of reason said very clearly in her head,
no
.

Honor drew back, fighting for breath, trying to be calm while everything inside her was still whirling from the tornado that had struck. There was shock on Gabriel’s face, and something else, a glimpse of something as desperate and hungry as the chemistry that had ignited between them.

She’d surprised him then.

Satisfaction gripped her and even though she was still trembling inside, she kept a cool smile on her face. “Of course you’ll keep me safe, darling,” she said, allowing a touch of sarcasm to rest on the endearment. “I suppose I’d better check and see what you got me.”

She turned around, not wanting to look at him again quite yet, busying herself with the bags, conscious of the receptionist’s fascinated gaze on the pair of them.

You kissed him, you idiot. He’s a potential client and even apart from that, he’s far too much for you to handle. What the hell were you thinking?

She hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. She’d just responded to his unspoken challenge without a thought, wanting to push him harder, revel in the wild surge of excitement at testing him.

Dangerous to indulge that part of her. That sensual weakness. So damn dangerous. Kissing Gabriel Woolf was a slippery slope she could fall down and never stop falling.

Honor forced the fizzing, bubbling excitement away, pulling open one of the bags instead.

There was a movement behind her, Gabriel’s leather-clad elbow resting on the reception counter. She kept her attention on the bags, but it was difficult to concentrate when every sense she had seemed attuned to the figure of the man standing next to her.

She drew out a biker jacket. It was surprisingly heavy, the leather padded and soft.

The receptionist made a sighing kind of sound. “Wow. Nice.”

It was. Too nice.

Honor folded it up and put it back in the bag. “You shouldn’t have,” she said to Gabriel. “This is wasted on me.”

“Is it?” This time his voice was utterly neutral. Enough to make her glance at him. There was no shock or hunger on his face now, his features expressionless. “I’ll send it back then.” He turned his head to look at the receptionist. “Heather, could you ring the store these came from, please? Tell them I need to get a refund on—”

“Wait,” Honor said, interrupting before she could think straight. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them.” She didn’t quite know why she didn’t want Gabriel to send them back, especially when she wasn’t going to be using them, but …

His gaze came back to hers. “If you want them, put them on and meet me out front in five minutes. If you don’t, leave them here and I’ll send them back.” He pushed himself away from the desk with a lazy movement, then turned and walked toward the entrance without another word.

Honor watched him go, her heart thumping. God, what the hell was she doing? Every time he got in her vicinity she felt like she kept making mistakes. Daring him. Kissing him. Fighting him. Allowing herself to get carried away by him when she should be keeping this all about business. All about Guy and Tremain Hotels.

Yet she couldn’t deny the excitement and adrenaline still fizzing through her like champagne out of a freshly shaken bottle. Or the way her mouth was still burning from the touch of his.

Matching wits and crossing swords with Gabriel was thrilling in the way discovering a fabulous new project to invest in was thrilling. Or trading the stocks of a particularly volatile company. There had always been a reason she liked the world of high finance and it wasn’t only because of her talent with money. She liked the buzz and the challenge of it, too. The adrenaline rush of the gamble …

Of course you do. You’re like your father. Like Alex.

Honor caught her breath. No, she wasn’t like them. She was aware of her weakness. She wouldn’t give in to it and destroy herself in the process like they had. Her gambles were always calculated, always safe.

The problem was that Gabriel wasn’t safe. Not even for a moment.

Making a sudden decision, Honor pulled the bags off the counter and walked down to the cottage with them.

Perhaps this was a bad idea, but maybe the best way to handle this was to stop fighting him and go with the flow. Take the ride. If she went into this with her eyes open, fully conscious of the dangers, she’d be okay.

A calculated risk. Her favorite kind.

Honor didn’t know how he’d managed to find her size but the pants, the jacket, the gloves, and the boots all fit perfectly, even though she found moving in them strange. The leather pants and jacket were tight. It was like being encased in armor, an image that probably wouldn’t go amiss when dealing with a man like Gabriel.

Five minutes later, helmet in one hand, she walked back up the path to the front of the hotel. He was still there, crouched beside his big, black Norton, fiddling with something on the wheel.

Honor took a slow, silent breath. “So,” she said. “What about this ride then?”

His blond head turned, dark eyes sweeping over her. He didn’t move, just stared. Then he rose to his feet in a fluid movement. “Everything fits.” It wasn’t a question.

Her mouth felt dry. That look he’d given her had contained a certain amount of very obvious heat. “Evidently. How did you know my size?”

“I snuck a look at your clothes.” He didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed of himself. “Have you tried the helmet?”

“No.”

He strode over to her and once again, she couldn’t help her reaction, tensing, every single nerve ending alight. How stupid to have kissed him. Now how the hell would she cope with holding on to him on the back of a bike? So much for a calculated risk.

He took her helmet and lifted it up, gently sliding it down over her head. Sound became muffled, her peripheral vision eliminated. All she could see was him in front of her. “That fits, too. What about the gloves?”

Speaking was a touch difficult with a helmet on so she lifted her hands in the padded leather gloves, her fingers warm for the first time that day. He didn’t say anything, taking her hands unexpectedly in his and examining the fit. Thank God for the leather protecting her from the touch of his skin because even though she couldn’t feel him, she could still hear her heart beating uncomfortably loud in her ears. “Those look fine,” he said, dropping her hands. “Come on, I’ll help you onto the back.”

“I can do it myself,” she protested. The last thing she wanted was to be helped onto the bike by him, even with all the leather protecting herself.

“Of course you can,” he said. “Be my guest.” He stood back with his arms folded, watching as she awkwardly threw her leg over the bike and clambered on. There was distinct amusement in his eyes, which she decided to ignore.

“Okay,” she said, a trifle breathless, settling herself on the seat. “Let’s go.”

He smiled and she felt that electricity between them again, alive and dangerous, crackling like static in the air before a storm. “Okay, sweetheart. Hold on tight.” He picked up the helmet that sat on the seat in front of her and put it on. Then he got on the bike.

Honor held her breath. She swore she could feel the heat of him even through two sets of leather. God, perhaps this hadn’t been the greatest decision after all.

He turned his head. “Unless you want to come off the back, I suggest holding onto me.”

Well, she kind of knew this was expected.

What are you afraid of? You can handle this.

Of course she could. It was only temptation and she’d resisted so far.

Honor leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and yes, she
could
feel the heat of him through the leather. The power and the strength of his body like the bike beneath them. A hot engine encased in hard steel.