Heart of Steel: Steel Hawk, Book 2

by Eve Devon

  “Depends. If I let go of this door, are you going to run?”

  Chapter Four

  Honeysuckle forced herself to hold Adam’s gaze, and as soon as she witnessed the slight give in his stance, she ducked to the side and away from him.

  Her mind buzzed. The size of the cow Sophie was going to have when she found out that getting Honeysuckle out of that club after Lou had accused her of stealing from him was nothing compared with Lou trying his luck at cashing in on the story.

  She would have to go to Lou and…what? How would she know she wasn’t causing more trouble for Steel Hawk? But then Lou accusing her of stealing was only payback for him discovering she’d witnessed something she really wished she hadn’t. He knew she hadn’t ever said anything, so would he really risk that coming out?

  How on earth had some writer got hold of the story anyway, and why had they thought it warranted page space? She was no one, really. Unless… She whirled around to face Adam. “You said the book was mostly about the Hawks? Could someone be trying to hurt us on purpose?”

  “I’m not sure,” Adam replied, tipping his head slightly to the side as if to aid yet another new assessment of her. “Do you have anyone in your life who would want to purposely hurt you?”

  She shook her head because she really didn’t want to believe Lou had been plotting for eighteen months to hurt her. Even if he’d discovered her real identity, and she didn’t see how he could have. Sure, he was explosive, but he wasn’t devious and calculating. Was he?

  Adam leaned against the door, arms folded, one foot crossed over the other. “I think this book is more about sending a shock wave through Steel Hawk and damaging our reputation. You happen to have had something in your recent past that could be used. Most of the book is about—” He stopped, his eyes suddenly narrowing with renewed suspicion. “Tell me exactly why you chose the name Raven Delight.”

  “Huh?”

  “Why did you choose the name Raven Delight?”

  “Hello?” Honeysuckle pointed to her hair. “It used to be much longer, and I used to—” She really didn’t need to give Adam Steel, of all men, a blow-by-blow of her act.

  “The book that’s coming out is accusing your ancestor Nathaniel Hawk of being a jewel thief called the Raven.” He ran a hand over his own hair in frustration. “All we need now is for the press to think you were paying some sort of homage to him.”

  But that wasn’t what suddenly had the blood draining from her face.

  What was she going to do if the press found out that Lou had accused her of stealing and suddenly decided to brand her a thief as well? In addition to making a mockery of her family heritage, she’d have damaged her reputation beyond repair. She would never be able to get another job. Never be able to prove to her parents and Sophie that she was through starting something and not finishing it.

  “What’s wrong?” Adam asked, coming up behind her.

  She couldn’t tell him. No way.

  And she couldn’t go to Sophie. Not again.

  “Honeysuckle?”

  “Nothing. It’s just a lot to get my head around.”

  “I understand.” Adam cleared his throat and said, “I need you to accompany me to Zarrenburg at the end of next week.”

  Honeysuckle wondered if her life could get any more bizarre. She turned to stare at her boss. “Zarrenburg? As in the small European principality tucked in the Alps?”

  “Yep. Congratulations,” Adam said with a touch of irony. “You’ve been promoted. It even comes with a title change. How does executive assistant sound?”

  She took it all back. Life could get more bizarre. “I don’t really go in for titles,” she answered, bemused.

  “Says the woman who called herself Raven Delight. Think you can fake being an EA as easily as you faked being a PA?”

  “I—You—What?” He was going too fast for her. Being too practical. Taking over and not giving her any time to think.

  “We’re going to Zarrenburg where we’ll be attending Prince Zoltan’s coronation. You and I will represent Steel Hawk by showing we don’t cower to rumor or allegation. That we’re the type of company where business relationships endure.”

  “You don’t need me there for that.”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Honeysuckle felt a stupid thrill course through her veins.

  “Steel Hawk is going to be responsible for ensuring the safety of the Pasha Star. I handle the technical details and installation. You act as company liaison with the royal staff and handle the aesthetics of the display.”

  “You’re rewarding me for lying on my résumé, with a promotion that sees me overseeing the display of the Pasha Star? Are you deliberately trying to finish me off?”

  Before, when she had only been halfway in love with him, she would have jumped at the chance to go away with him. And seeing the Pasha Star would be a dream come true.

  But not now. Now she was fairly sure she couldn’t.

  What about Steel Hawk, though? How could she let them down when they’d given her the chance she’d needed to prove herself at something lasting? How could she let Adam down?

  “This is how we show the world it is business as usual for us,” Adam said quietly, watching for her reaction. “This is how we show whoever is taking potshots at us that we’re not worried. That they won’t succeed.”

  Could she really travel to Zarrenburg with him and act like the world finding out what she used to do for a living was nothing? Or, worse, was just one more job in a long list of jobs she’d done before joining Steel Hawk?

  Reaching down, she picked up Adam’s ficus plant and made to leave the office. “I’ll go get you a coffee,” she said tiredly.

  She’d got the door open and had taken a step through when he softly called her name. Slowly she turned around, hugging the plant to her chest.

  “Is it going to be hard when the book hits shelves on Monday? Yes,” he said. “Are you going to have to spend your weekend telling your family? Yes. Does Steel Hawk need you to do this? Absolutely.”

  * * * * *

  Rented Apartment, Outer Mission District, San Francisco, Five Days Later

  Monique Vass opened her bedroom door and tossed the black wig in the vicinity of her bed. Turning around, she padded off in the direction of the kitchen and the bottle of Pinot she’d opened last night. Her fingers went into her silky blonde bob and splayed to squeeze along the pressure points of her skull. She felt some of the tension ease and sighed with pleasure. Wearing the wig was supposed to help her feel less conspicuous, but mostly what it did was remind her she was in San Francisco on her own and the long hours of being on constant alert were starting to take their toll. Swirling within her was a strange mix of rebelliousness and a feeling of being completely out of her depth.

  The unsettling combination forced her to admit there would be consequences if she got lax. Tomorrow she wouldn’t take the shortcut for the sake of comfort. She’d go back to painstakingly pinning her hair down properly before putting on the wig.

  In the kitchen area, she reached for the bottle of Pinot, then bent to retrieve a glass from the open dishwasher and poured herself a generous helping.

  She lifted the glass to her lips and took two sips in quick succession. As she savored the crisp taste, she looked around the modest one-bed apartment, so different from her place back home. How much longer was she expected to live here? The place was nice enough, but hardly compared to the luxury she had grown used to. In Zarrenburg, surrounded by familiarity, it was much easier to love keeping to the routine of her life. Here, it was harder to remember why she needed to.

  Holding the glass down at her side, she walked through to the living area and placed it on the coffee table in front of the oversized gold sofa. She glanced at her watch as she sat.

  Three minutes until she checked in with Rufus.

&
nbsp; She opened her laptop and turned the webcam on. Reaching for the glass of wine, she took another two sips and then set the glass down.

  Under the table. Out of reach and out of sight.

  She glanced at her watch again. Two minutes.

  A quick check of her appearance in the webcam reminded her to reapply her lip gloss.

  She shot up from the sofa, then crossed to the kitchen breakfast bar and rummaged in her bag. After whipping out the tube, she slicked it quickly over her lips before rushing to sit back down in front of the laptop. Squaring her shoulders, she resisted the temptation to check her watch one last time or even to glance down to the time displayed in the corner of the laptop screen. Instead, she smoothed back the hair from her face, thankful that the simple bob always looked elegant. Moving her hand down, she flicked open one more button on her silk blouse.

  Rufus always liked to see a hint of cleavage. Not too much. Not until they’d talked. Then he would tell her exactly what he’d like to see. A shiver of lust danced over her. She hated being away from him like this. Hated feeling so alone and physically starved of affection—something she hadn’t been since she’d met him at university, she a history major, he a business major.

  This was the first time she had been apart from him, and spending her days watching others interacting only reinforced how alone she was. She didn’t like it, didn’t like having all this time on her hands to think. The thinking was starting to erode the base of her confidence, confusing her and adding to the nervous energy she now sometimes buzzed with.

  Already she was falling into bad habits again, like drinking one glass of wine each evening, or throwing the wig on the bed, or leaving the dishwasher door open.

  She couldn’t help herself and glanced down to check the time. Seconds left. Not long enough to make amends and whiz over to the kitchen area and close that dishwasher door.

  Her only other option was to practice her smile into the webcam. The last thing Rufus would want to see on her face would be uncertainty or insecurity.

  Right on schedule, the laptop speakers signaled an incoming call. Monique clicked on the keyboard mouse to pick up the call, and Rufus’s face appeared on the screen.

  She could tell right away that he was in his office because she could see the beautiful snow falling on the Zarrenburg mountain pine trees outside his window.

  A feeling of acute homesickness rolled up from the pit of her belly, leaving her fighting to keep it from showing on her face. To combat the intense loss of familiarity, she reminded herself that she was here to do a job for Rufus. The trust he had placed in her was immense. She could not let him down.

  “Monique.” Rufus tipped his head in greeting, and Monique concentrated on banishing the homesickness by running her gaze hungrily over the sexy planes of the face she loved so much. “I’ve been watching the international news reports. The book is a hit.”

  “Thank you,” she said demurely, and then added with a twinkle in her eye, “They do seem to like it, don’t they?” Allowing herself to acknowledge the bubble of pride sitting in her chest, she had to admit, writing the book and then getting it published had been the toughest challenge Rufus had set yet. But even if no one else ever got to know that the woman who walked down Mission Street every day to sit outside Steel Hawk Headquarters was the author of the book, she knew. Rufus knew. She didn’t need anything more.

  All that she did was for Rufus.

  Rufus de Burgh had risen above the emotional poverty of his childhood and dealt with the deceitfulness of those who had turned a blind eye to his situation, with staggering ability. Monique knew he deserved every success. Earned or taken.

  “It is as we planned, then,” Rufus said, brushing her achievement with the book aside now that it had helped him reach another point on his plan. “Is the publishing house doing their job in helping to keep your anonymity?”

  “They are keen to protect my identity for as long as the anonymity adds to the hype and drives sales. For the moment, I can go where I like here, and nobody knows who I am.”

  “Good. Good. And you have been watching the Steel Hawk premises?”

  “As you instructed. There is a café across the street that I can take a book to and sit there each day. Your contact comes in at random, but I haven’t missed one of his notes yet. One thing…” She paused, trying to work out how best to word her news.

  “Yes?”

  “The latest note says that they’re talking about approaching the publishing house to ask me to do a live interview and challenge the allegations in the book.”

  “Absolutely not,” he dismissed, and the kernel of worry over making a mistake in front of the cameras dissipated. “There’s taking calculated risks and then there’s abject foolishness. You will simply refuse all requests put to you by the publishing house.”

  “Of course. Whatever you say,” she said, happy to comply.

  Rufus nodded and then looked right into the camera, his intelligent eyes hardening. “You’ve seen him?”

  Prepared and having practiced for this moment, she schooled her features and answered simply, “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “He’s not as handsome as you.”

  There was a small satisfied edge to his smile. “I was under the impression we were identical.”

  “Of course. I’m… It’s just that I”—her heart fluttered—“know you intimately, so I see the nuances. You are more accomplished. More sophisticated. You exude a power he could not hope to match,” she soothed and as a final touch, added, “Because of that, he doesn’t smile as much as you.”

  “By the time I’m finished, no one at Steel Hawk will be smiling.”

  Monique bowed her head in agreement and, seeing his attention focused on the papers in his lap, took her biggest risk yet. “Rufus, when can I come home?”

  His gaze whipped up to the webcam. “Has he made arrangements for them to come over to Zarrenburg yet?”

  Hope took a swan dive. “I’m sure your clever manipulation has worked, but I haven’t had confirmation from your contact.”

  “Then you can’t come home yet.” He picked up his papers and tossed them on the desk behind him. Turning back to the webcam, he ran his gaze lazily over her. “Are you trying to tell me you’re bored?”

  “Of course not. You’ve given me an important job that I take seriously. Perhaps I’m a little lonely,” she suggested, knowing that the conversation would go better if she waited for him to tell her how she felt.

  “There is someone near you who looks identical to me,” Rufus said with a shrug. “Perhaps you could use him as a substitute and satisfy your needs that way. Is that what you are waiting for me to tell you to do?”

  Her tongue came out to swipe across dry lips, and she knew he saw the tiny horrified tell and would now press just to punish her.

  “You’re sure?” he asked when she remained silent. “It has a certain appeal—knowing that I would be loaning you out to him.”

  “Rufus—”

  “The idea doesn’t excite you? I thought I taught you better.” He ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw as if considering the idea further. “You do have certain skills. I quite like the idea of my lover seducing my twin and then discarding him like he’s nothing the moment I give the instruction.”

  Monique felt the blood drain from her face. Her eyes went to her glass of wine.

  Rufus leaned forward in his chair. “Monique? What are you looking at?”

  Panic ignited under her breastbone.

  “Show me on the webcam.”

  “It’s nothing. I thought I saw a spider.” The lie rolled so easily off her tongue it shocked her. She would never have been able to do that without the distance between them, and with that realization came a danger that twisted inside her, confusing her even more.

  “Show me,” Rufus instructed.


  Fighting to keep her hands steady, Monique picked up the laptop and turned it so that it showed the living area. She made sure to move it around slowly so that Rufus could see every surface.

  “It’s gone now,” she said when she turned the camera back to her.

  He assessed her for what seemed like hours before saying quietly, “I would hate to think you were drinking again.”

  Once. The rebellious tic inside her wanted to shout. Once, she had drunk too much. She had been young and inexperienced, and it had been their first time together. Afterward, when she had been standing, shell-shocked, under the hot stinging spray of the shower, Rufus had come in and tenderly explained how the next time would be much better—that alcohol had dulled her senses and rendered her too unparticipative, not allowing her to enjoy the experience as fully as he had wanted her to.

  He had been so kind. So gentle. So loving. Over the next few weeks, in his small university bedroom, he had set about teaching her exactly what to do to ensure that afterward she received that same kindness, gentleness, and loving that had been so absent from her life before, and she had come to enjoy all that he had taught her, her pleasure sharpened by what she knew would come after if she obeyed.

  “So back to seducing brother dear,” Rufus said, the hard bead of excitement growing in his eyes.

  Treacherously, traitorously, Monique wanted a sip of wine. What he was asking was too extreme. She would fail and be punished, and it wouldn’t be physically. There were much harsher punishments for her. Perhaps she would be left here indefinitely, or worse, banished from his life forever.

  Thinking quickly, she ventured, “Why should he get the benefit of all that you have taught me? His privileged existence was given to him on a platter, while you had to fight for everything. Why give him access to anything you’ve amassed?”