Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (6 page)

Gabriel walked over to one of the rich, purple velvet-covered sofas, and sat down, elbows on his knees. “Tell me what you know about Honor.”

Instantly the expression on Alex’s face became guarded. “What?”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap, man. You know I met with her last night about this hotel business. Aren’t you even curious to know how that went?”

Alex folded his arms. “No.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not.” His friend shifted against the door frame. “Look, what exactly do you want to know about her? I’m going to Vegas tomorrow and I’ve got a shitload of stuff to handle before I go.”

“So you do keep an eye on her then?”

Alex’s blue gaze didn’t waver. “Yes. I meant what I said when I told the group I did.”

“Then what’s her relationship to Guy Tremain?”

All at once the look on Alex’s face hardened fractionally. “You’ve got a thing about him, haven’t you? What’s the deal, Gabe?”

“Nothing I want to tell anyone about.” He wasn’t going to go into confessing his plans. He’d already done so with the priest, that should be enough. The whole situation was too personal. Too private. Touched on too many painful things.

“Not even me? Your oldest friend?” Alex raised an eyebrow, a mannerism so like his sister that Gabriel had an almost uncomfortable flashback to Honor sitting beside him the night before. All polished sophistication and dry, sarcastic humor.

“Fuck no,” Gabriel said bluntly.

“Then why should I tell you about Honor and Tremain?”

Slowly Gabriel sat back on the sofa, staring at the other man. “Sounds like you’re a bit concerned about her.”

Alex didn’t move but his posture became tense. “She’s my sister.”

“A sister you haven’t bothered to talk to for years.”

“Oh, Christ, not you as well. I get enough of that crap from Eva.”

Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “Hey, you have your reasons for not talking, I got mine, we’re all good. I’m just pointing out that it’s a little rich for you to get all protective of her now.”

The other man didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he let out a long breath. “Okay, well, I don’t know a lot. They’re close, that much I do know. Apparently Tremain sees her as a daughter.”

“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 party. 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.”