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.
CHAPTER FIVE
At the top of the hill Gabriel pulled the Norton up on the side of the icy road and checked his GPS. Not far to go now. The hotel should be just up ahead and around the corner. Kicking down the stand of the bike, he raised the visor of his helmet to take a good look at the surrounding view. Mountains and forest heavily covered with snow, an icy lake to his left. The snow lent a muffled, dense quality to the silence around him that reminded him of his lodge in the Rockies. A peace that he’d never found inside a church, much to his mother’s disappointment.
But it had always been that way with him. Once, a teacher at school had shown him a book about nature and there had been pictures of mountains, forests, and lakes. Places the noise and the dirt and the squalor of the city hadn’t touched. Afterward he used to dream about going to such places because he imagined them to be cleaner, purer than the shitty tenement he lived in with his mother. Quieter, too. More peaceful.
Dreams about going and living in a cabin in the woods, by a lake. Where he’d fish for his mom and they’d be happy.
Fuck, what an innocent he’d been back then.
Gabriel sat back on the bike, inhaled, then let it out, his breath clouding in the cold air. Alex had his clubs and the women he lost himself inside of. Zac had his Caribbean island. And Eva … well, who knew what Eva had since she never revealed anything about herself. But this was his. The forest. The silence. A break from the anger that seemed to devour him whole whenever he was in the city.
The ride from New York had taken him over five hours, but he hadn’t minded. Speed and the wilderness and silence in his head. Sometimes that was all he needed.
At that moment his phone buzzed in the pocket of his motorcycle leathers. Briefly, he debated not answering it since when he was away, he was damn well away, but then again, it could be Honor.
Dragging the phone out, Gabriel glanced down at the screen. But it wasn’t from Honor. It was from Alex.
You want to go out tonight? Second Circle. 9 p.m.
Gabriel hadn’t told his friend about this week he’d planned with Honor. He hadn’t told anyone except a few of his people, and as far as they were concerned, he was in an important meeting for a week and wasn’t to be disturbed. No one needed to know what he was doing or what his plans were.
He stared at Alex’s message. The guy clearly kept tabs on his sister but did he know Honor wouldn’t be around this week either? Would he put two and two together? He might, considering Gabriel had already made it known he was interested in Honor’s investor quest.
Perhaps a different kind of man might have felt guilty about using his best friend’s little sister in such a way. But guilt was the one emotion Gabriel never let himself feel. Not when his mother had had enough for both of them.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he had anything to feel guilty about. He had his rule. He wouldn’t harm her. What he wanted was information and he’d use whatever he could to get it. Even the attraction that burned between them. Christ, he’d be stupid not to.
No, Gabriel texted Alex b
ack at last. I’m out of state this week. Catch you when I get back.
There was a moment’s pause, then a reply pinged back.
All the more chicks for me then.
Gabriel snorted and stuck his phone in his pocket. Then he kicked the bike’s stand up, opened the throttle, and pulled out onto the road.
Ten minutes later he turned onto a long driveway that led through densely packed, snow-clad trees. Eventually it opened out onto a wide sweep past an elegant wood-and-stone building—the main lodge.
Gabriel cast a professional eye over it as he pulled up and parked his bike, approving the simplicity of the architecture. The building wasn’t fussy, with clean lines, a steeply pitched roof, and wide eaves. It had clearly been built to a high-spec and from what he could see, the workmanship was solid. There was nothing cheap or shoddy about this place. Tremain had obviously spent, and spent big on it.
A valet ran out as he got off the bike but Gabriel warned the guy off with a look. No one touched the Norton, let alone drove it. Grabbing his only piece of luggage, a battered leather kit bag, Gabriel slung it over his shoulder and headed for the entrance, pulling off his helmet as he went.
The interior of the hotel was all dark wood, thick carpet, and subtle lighting, giving it an air of quiet, discreet luxury. As he approached the reception desk, the concierge, a precisely coiffed blond woman, looked up and gave him a welcoming smile. “Ah, Mr. Woolf. Good afternoon. We’ve been expecting you. Are you ready to check in?”
Gabriel didn’t bother with pointless niceties. “Is Ms. St. James here yet?” he asked brusquely.
The woman’s smile didn’t falter, which was kudos to her professionalism. “Not as of yet. She did say she’d be here about four, which is any moment now.”
That was good. If she wasn’t here yet, he had a chance to check on the accommodations she’d arranged for them. Because he was betting she’d placed herself a long way from where he was, and that just wasn’t going to happen. He wanted them to be close together. Mainly so he could unsettle her, get under her skin, because people who were unsettled often let slip things they didn’t mean to say.
“What rooms have you got us in?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the desk.
The woman’s gaze flickered over him in a way he’d long come to recognize. Helpless interest. Lucky for her, she wasn’t his kind of prey.
“Ah … Ms. St. James has organized one of the cottages by the lake for you and a room in the main lodge for herself.”
Of course she had. “Change it,” Gabriel ordered. “Ms. St. James will be in the cottage with me.”
The only surprise the receptionist betrayed was a slight tightening of the mouth. Good. Perhaps she’d be allowed to keep her job when Gabriel became owner.
“Certainly I can do that,” the woman said. “But perhaps I should check—”
“I think you’ll find Ms. St. James will be perfectly happy with the arrangement.” He let his mouth curve, giving the woman a meaningful look.
She picked up on his meaning right away, at least judging from the flush that crept over her face. “Oh, I see.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I’ll change the arrangements immediately, Mr. Woolf.”
He let his smile linger. “Excellent decision.”
“What’s an excellent decision?”
Gabriel didn’t move for a second, keeping his back to the hotel’s entrance, anticipation curling tight in his gut. So Honor had arrived. What perfect timing.
Slowly, he turned around.
Honor stood in the middle of the foyer, small, fine-boned, and immaculate in a tailored black trench coat belted tightly around her narrow waist. In one hand was the handle of a little wheeled suitcase, following behind her like a dog on a leash, while the other held her cell phone. The cold had brought a flush to her cheeks, making her blue eyes seem even bluer. She tucked away her cell into the purse she wore over one shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him in that way he remembered from their meeting at the club. Imperious and slightly mocking.
He leaned back against the reception desk on his elbows, taking in the sight of her and not bothering to hide it. Shit, he couldn’t deny there was chemistry between them. Intense chemistry.
How long since he’d experienced attraction like this? A long time. Maybe never …
“Were you trying to tease me, baby?” he drawled.
A wary look flickered in her eyes. “Tease you?”
“Yeah. With the sleeping arrangements.” He gave her a slow smile. “You had us in separate rooms.”
The flush in her cheeks deepened. She glanced at the receptionist briefly before looking back at him, and he could see she was already assessing the situation, trying to figure out what was going on. After a moment she said, “I thought you would prefer it.” Her expression gave absolutely nothing away
Goddamn but she was good.
“After one little argument?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, no. What I prefer is you in my bed.”
Her jaw tightened, her gaze flicking to the receptionist again, gauging the woman’s reaction a moment before coming back to him. “I see.” Her voice was rock-steady and still as cool as the fall of snow. “Well, by all means, change it if you like.”
So. No protest. No argument. She wasn’t going to give him any of the expected reactions, was she? Interest curled like a hook, digging into him. Fuck, that was good. No, that was fantastic. Because he didn’t want this to be easy. Things were always so much sweeter when you had to fight for them. He should know. He’d fought like a bastard for everything he had.
“Oh, don’t worry. I already have. You and I will be in the cottage near the lake.”
Honor smiled and it wasn’t the smile of a lover. It was sharp as an icicle and just as cold. “That’s wonderful.” Her attention turned to the receptionist and her smile became much warmer. “Thanks, Heather. Hope it wasn’t a bother to change.”
“Not at all, Miss St. James. Shall I get Sam to bring your bags down?”
“That would be great.” Honor’s gaze caught his and she raised that eyebrow again. “Coming, Mr. Woolf?” The delicate sarcasm that edged his name was a challenge of the subtlest kind. And Christ, if she thought it would go over his head, she was dead wrong.
She had no idea who she was taking on, she really didn’t. And if he had any decency at all, he would stop right now and leave her alone.
But he wasn’t going to stop. Because the fact was he had no decency. None at all. Decency was one luxury he’d never been able to afford.
* * *
Honor waited until Sam had delivered their bags into the wide, open living area of the cottage. Then, as the door closed behind him, she turned back to the man whose overwhelming presence made the spacious room feel like a tiny closet.
He stood over by the huge picture window that looked out toward the lake, the backdrop of the icy expanse of water and the surrounding snowcapped mountains behind him, and for a second she didn’t know what was more impressive, him or the view. Dressed in black motorcycle leathers, a white T-shirt stretched over his powerful chest, he looked big and mean and downright intimidating. Which should have warned her off. Yet somehow, she found that just as compelling and magnetic as she had the night they’d met.
This is a job, remember? You have to keep things professional.
Yes, this was business, wasn’t it? Then again, there was no business-related reason she could think of as to why he’d changed their accommodations or made it look like they were sleeping together.
No, the only reason she could think of was that he’d done it to screw with her, get some kind of reaction. To up the game he was playing.
Fine. She’d come prepared. He could up whatever the hell he wanted, she could handle it. She hadn’t gotten where she was today by being a pushover.
Honor folded her arms, betraying none of the anger she felt. “So, I assume I’ll take the second bedroom?”
He studied her for a long
moment. “You’re not going to mention the fact I just blatantly changed your booking?”
“No. Did you want me to?”
A smile curved his sensual mouth. “Oh, very good,” he murmured approvingly. “You’re learning. And I suppose you’re not going to let on how angry you are about the fact I let the receptionist believe we’re lovers either?”
“I’m not angry. I don’t care what the receptionist believes.”
His dark eyes swept over her. “Bullshit. You’re angry, sweetheart, but you’re trying very hard not to show it.”
Honor kept her expression absolutely neutral, determined not to let anything slip. She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Does this really matter? Look, if you want us to share the cottage then fine. It’s no skin off my nose.”
“Uh-huh.” He was still a second, watching her. Then he shrugged off his leather jacket in a smooth movement and tossed it carelessly down on the couch. With a slow, easy stride, he crossed the room toward her and in spite of herself, Honor’s breath caught, a surge of adrenaline rushing through her. Her body wanted her to run but she held her ground. Flight had always been more Alex’s style than hers; she was fight all the way.
Gabriel stopped inches away, looking down at her. There was something disturbingly perceptive in his gaze that made her feel like he’d peeled her open, laying bare all her fears and desires. Her darkest secrets. She forced herself to look back, meet him stare for stare.
“You’re not going to give me a thing, are you?” he murmured, his dark, husky voice making the words sound intimate. Sensual. “Do you have any idea how much of a challenge that is to a man like me?”
Her heart began to race, but she’d had a lot of practice at staying cool under pressure. “I’m not here to challenge you, Mr. Woolf.” Thank God her voice was steady as a rock. “I’m here to discuss this investment and that’s all.”
Mine To Take (Nine Circles) Page 7
