Her mother, dressed in her usual string of pearls and designer dress, probably Chanel, was sitting on the sofa with Mary, her housekeeper, going over the pages of a magazine Mary was holding.
Honor didn’t say anything for a second, just looked at her mother, grief lying heavy at the back of her throat.
Elizabeth was a porcelain doll of a woman, always beautifully dressed and made up. Her hair was still black—Honor knew she kept dyeing it religiously to keep the gray away. The lines of age and grief around her eyes and mouth showed, but even those weren’t as deep as they should have been. Botox was her mother’s best friend, since Elizabeth’s vanity stopped short of surgery.
But her mother’s youthful appearance couldn’t hide the air of fragility that surrounded her. A fragility that went deep.
Honor swallowed. What the hell was she doing here? What did she hope to achieve?
She’d promised Gabriel she wouldn’t see Guy, at least not yet, not until they had some concrete evidence, yet Honor hadn’t been able to stay away.
She’d wanted to see her mother. Not to tell her about everything Gabriel had discovered, but mainly to determine whether her marriage to Guy had been a lie. That relationship had been a constant for the last fifteen years of her life, given her a safe and stable home after the chaos surrounding her father’s death. And to discover even that had been a falsehood …
That her father had been covering up a double life as a casino boss had hurt, yet given the secrets he’d hidden from his family, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising. But the thought her stepfather had lied both to her and to her mother, for years, was devastating. What if Guy had never loved her mother at all? What if he’d been paid to make it look like he did?
What if he never loved you either? Just like Daniel didn’t.
Honor didn’t want to think about that. It was too raw. Too personal. She was here for her mother and that was it.
“Hi, Mom,” she said.
Elizabeth looked up, her face breaking into a smile. “Honor, darling!” She got up from the sofa in a graceful movement, coming over to her daughter and enveloping her in a Chanel No. 5–scented hug. “This is a surprise!”
“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind me coming over without calling first. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“No, of course I don’t. Mary, would you mind getting us some coffee? We can go over the menus this afternoon.”
The housekeeper smiled. “No, of course not. Here, Miss St. James, let me take those.” She took Honor’s outerwear and went bustling off to deal with them.
“Come sit.” Elizabeth took Honor’s hand and led her over to the sofa, sitting down with her. “How was Vermont?”
Was there any point talking about Gabriel?
No. That’s one relationship you definitely don’t want Guy knowing about.
Honor didn’t like the automatic thought, as if Guy were guilty already. But then, maybe it was better for her mother not to know. Because, God, she really didn’t know herself what was going on there either.
She’d woken up that morning alone, Gabriel apparently having left for work. There had been a note in the kitchen near the coffeepot telling her he’d be in touch but that was it. No mention of what was going on between them and what it meant.
Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe a couple of nights of hot sex was all it was.
Just as well …
“Vermont was beautiful,” Honor said, ignoring the sharp disappointment that twisted inside her at the thought. “Lots of snow.”
“Perfect,” her mother said, smiling. “Guy and I need to take a trip there sometime. Especially during fall when the leaves are turning.”
Here it was. Her cue. “You should. It’s very pretty. Speaking of Guy, how are you two?”
Elizabeth glanced at her in surprise. “Us? We’re fine, darling, why do you ask?”
“Oh, no particular reason. I just … wonder sometimes.”
“Well, don’t.” Her mother patted her hand. “Guy and I are fine. Everything’s okay.”
But everything wasn’t okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.
The pressure of all the secrets pressed in on her and there was a moment where she couldn’t breathe. “Mom,” she began.
From out in the hall came the sound of the front door opening and closing. Then a familiar voice calling, “Lizzie?”
Her mother’s face lit up. “In here, darling!”
And if Honor hadn’t been able to breathe before, she certainly couldn’t now, especially when Guy’s tall figure suddenly appeared in the doorway.
He smiled when he saw her. “Honor, how nice to see you. And great timing. I’ve been meaning to call you.”
Smile, you idiot. Otherwise, he’s going to know something’s wrong.
From somewhere, Honor found a smile and stuck it on, her face feeling stiff. “Oh, yes, I’ve been … busy for the past couple of days.”
He came into the room, bending to kiss his wife and Honor knew a hug was going to be expected. She made herself get up and give him a brief, unsubstantial embrace before sitting back down again. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” he said. “Playing hooky from work, like me?”
“Oh, no, Wes is holding down the fort for me this morning. I wanted to see Mom, say hi.”
He sat down in the armchair opposite them. “Well, it’s nice to see you. Darling,” he said to his wife, “I need to talk to Honor about some business stuff. Would you mind giving us a few minutes?”
“Business,” Elizabeth said with some exasperation. “That’s all you seem to want to talk about these days.” Nevertheless, she got up, smoothing down her dress. “Well, I’ll go and see if Mary needs a hand. You two get the boring stuff over and done with so we can talk about more interesting things when I get back.”
Honor swallowed, nervous tension gathering inside her as her mother left the room. She knew Guy hadn’t told his wife about Tremain Hotels failing because he hadn’t wanted her to worry—at least that’s what he’d told Honor. And the fact that he wanted Elizabeth to leave the room meant he wanted to talk about that now. God, she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
As the door shut behind his wife, Guy leaned forward, the smile fading from his eyes, the look on his face serious. “I know I should have organized a proper meeting with you,” he said levelly, “but while I’ve got you here, we may as well discuss Tremain Hotels.”
Honor didn’t let any of her nerves show. “The investment? Woolf Construction is—”
“Actually, it’s Woolf Construction I wanted to talk about.”
Oh, God. Honor didn’t move, kept her expression entirely neutral. “Oh?”
Guy laced his fingers together. “I know you worked hard to get Woolf on board and I appreciate it, Honor, I really do. But…” He hesitated. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse his money.”
The nervous tension sitting in her gut wound tighter. She allowed herself a frown. “Dad, you know that’s a—”
“A bad decision? I realize it’s not in our best interests, no. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to put my foot down. The man is little more than a criminal and I don’t want him associated with my hotel chain.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to find another investor. I had a lot of trouble even getting him.”
“Yes, I understand that.” He gave her a smile that only wound her tighter. “You put a lot of time and effort into saving Tremain and for that I’m grateful. But it’s time for me to deal with this mess myself. Okay? I’ll find another investor.”
Something broke inside her. Because there could be only one reason he wanted to handle it himself: he didn’t want Gabriel’s money to save the company. He didn’t want to save the company at all. He wanted it to go down.
It was all true.
An expression of concern creased his forehead, his blue eyes searching her face. “I’m sorry, dear girl. I didn’t mean to upset you but—”
�
��It’s okay,” she said, pleased with herself that she sounded together and only vaguely worried. “But you know that’s the very opposite of what I’d advise.”
He smiled at her again, slightly wistful. “Yes, I know.”
“What if you don’t save it? You’ve got my money invested, too, don’t forget that.”
His gaze flickered. “I haven’t forgotten, believe me. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get every cent back.”
Interesting that he didn’t say “the company will be safe.” Because her getting her money back and his company not going bankrupt weren’t quite the same thing.
“You have a plan?” she asked, fighting the nausea inside her. Might as well get the info while she could.
“I do.” He put his hands on the arms of his chair and levered himself out. “But I’m going to keep that to myself at the moment. Suffice it to say, I think it’ll work. Now, I wonder where your mother’s got to?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gabriel pulled open the door of the Nine Circles club’s meeting room to find Eva already there. For once she was alone, Zac nowhere in sight.
“Where’s the guard dog?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.
Eva was standing in front of the fire, holding her hands out to it. She felt the cold quite acutely and liked to be as close to any heat source as she could get. “I presume you mean Zac. I have no fucking idea. We’re not joined at the hip.”
Gabriel came over to the couch in front of the fire, leaning his elbows on the back of it. “You must have had the amputation recently then.”
Eva glanced at him over her shoulder. “Jesus, did you actually crack a joke, Gabe?”
“No. Whatever gave you that idea?”
Her gray eyes narrowed. “You’re not seething as per usual. What’s wrong?”
Good question, though perhaps “wrong” was not quite how he’d phrase it. Honor had given him a call that afternoon to say she wanted to see him tonight and the thought of seeing her had made him feel … less pissed off than normal. That should have been a warning sign, especially considering how much his anger meant to him.
Except that he’d elected to ignore the warning. He could do this. He could have both. Her and the justice he meant to deliver. After all, why not? She needed someone after that ordered little world of hers had been blown apart, and he wanted to be that someone. He wanted her, too. Wanted warmth and softness in his life. He couldn’t forget her fierce loyalty to her stepfather. It made him wonder what it would be like to have someone fight for him like that. To believe there was good in him no matter what.
Fucking idiot. There is no good in you.
He dismissed that thought. He had more important things to think about now. “Perhaps I’m just having a good day,” he said aloud.
“You never have good days.” Eva’s sharp gaze scanned his face. “Hmm, in fact you’re not only not seething, you’re looking damn smug. Have you got more information you haven’t shared yet?”
Gabriel straightened. “We need to wait until the others are here.”
He didn’t want to have to talk about this twice, particularly to Alex. There were questions he had to ask and who knew what memories it would bring up? Alex could be unpredictable at the best of times and this … well, shit, maybe he knew about his father already. But possibly not about Tremain. Still, one thing was for sure: the guy wasn’t going to like it.
Eva pulled a face and went to sit in the armchair by the fire, drawing her legs up and under her like a cat. As per normal, there was food set out on the table in front of the fire, a decanter of scotch and some wine. She hadn’t touched the food or the alcohol. A teacup and saucer were on a little side table next to her chair, the liquid inside it steaming gently. Probably her usual cup of lemon-and-ginger herbal tea.
Eva had never been one for alcohol.
Abruptly the door behind him opened and Zac came in, brushing the snow off his black overcoat. His amber gaze settled on Eva first—as if checking to make sure she was there—then shifted to Gabriel. “I have something you might be interested in,” he said, not even bothering with a greeting.
Gabriel stiffened. “What?”
“Ah. So the others aren’t yet aware?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Zac didn’t look particularly perturbed, shrugging off his overcoat and tossing it carelessly over the back of the couch. He moved around the side of it and sat down, putting the briefcase he’d been holding on the table, disturbing some of the plates of food.
“Christ,” Eva muttered from her place in the chair, “Gabriel was right. You’re just like a damn dog, shaking your fur and getting into the food.”
Zac’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “And you like it that way, angel. Don’t tell me you don’t.”
Gabriel skirted around the couch. “What the fuck, Zac?”
The other man opened the briefcase, extracted some papers, and handed them to him without a word. Gabriel looked down. They were financial statements concerning Daniel St. James. Honor’s father. They detailed large sums of money paid into his account after his death from a company called Mainline Holdings Limited.
“Mainline Holdings is a shell company,” Zac said calmly. “And I’m sure you can guess who’s behind that.”
Oh yeah, he could. Because he’d gotten his people to investigate into Tremain’s financial situation and they’d come up with the same thing. Gabriel looked at him. “How the fuck did you know?” Honor hadn’t told anyone else but him that Tremain had paid St. James’s debts. And this information hadn’t been in the files Zac had sent him earlier.
Zac leaned back against the couch, still calm. His tie was perfectly centered, the red edge of one of his tattoos peeking over the collar of his pristine white business shirt. “I found a few inconsistencies in the data I sent you so I did a bit more research and found these transactions. They were remarkably well hidden. I also noticed that you had your people do some digging. They’re clumsy, Gabriel. Very clumsy. You should come to me when you need stuff like this.”
Jesus. Time to do another overhaul of his systems security. “Or you could just mind your own fucking business.”
The other man only smiled. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Zac?” Eva demanded, her voice low and dangerous. “What haven’t you been telling me?”
At that moment the door opened again and it was Alex, late as usual.
He was in a black suit, his matte black tie loose, black shirt open at the collar. His hair was untidy, like someone had run her fingers through it, his blue eyes brilliant as sapphires. “Sorry, I’m late,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “Maya was insatiable. Jesus, is there scotch left or have you drank it all again, Gabriel?”
No, he didn’t want to discuss this with Alex. But he was going to have to. Taking a step over to the table, he pulled the top off the whisky decanter and poured a measure out. Then he held the crystal tumbler out toward his friend.
Alex came over and took the glass, his gaze turning sharp. “Oh dear,” he said. “You look serious. At least more serious than normal. Which is a bad fucking sign, I guess.”
“I suggest you drink that,” Gabriel said curtly. “All of it.”
Alex’s posture didn’t change but the look in his eyes cut like razors. “I see. Well, never let it be said that I refused a drink.” He downed the scotch in one go and poured himself another. “Tell me.” The casual note in his voice had gone now; it was low and flat and dangerous.
Gabriel held out the financial statements. “Look at these.”
The other man took them and looked down. He was silent a moment as he scanned the pages. Then he glanced back up at Gabriel. “What the fuck is this?”
“Evidence that your father’s so-called gambling debts were paid by Guy Tremain.”
Alex didn’t move a muscle, his eyes glittering. “And?”
“Who is currently laundering money for the Lucky Seven cas
ino.”
“You found this out how?”
Gabriel hesitated. Fuck it, might as well say. “Honor told me Tremain paid the debts.”
“Honor?” Eva sounded puzzled. “Why the hell would she tell you that?”
“Because I found out about a reservation scam he was running and I wanted to get more information about him. She was the logical person to ask.”
Alex downed the second glass of scotch, then, quite casually, tossed the tumbler into the fireplace where it smashed in a spray of glass and glitter of flames. “Money laundering,” he said, his voice deceptively mild. “And everyone seems to know about it except me.”
Shit. He should have told his friend earlier. Given him a heads-up at least. But he hadn’t.
You didn’t want to. Didn’t want to bring that night up for him again.
Yeah, that was the truth. He still remembered Alex stumbling out of the casino, the shirt he was wearing torn and his mouth bleeding. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the look in his friend’s eyes. Like something in him had died.
That wasn’t the look that was there now, though. Anger made his midnight gaze burn bright blue.
“Yet you know something else we don’t,” Gabriel went on, knowing he had to continue. “Your father wasn’t gambling at that casino. He fucking owned it, didn’t he?”
Alex’s expression didn’t change. “Yes. He did.”
A strange anger surged through him. One he had no right to feel and yet did all the same. “Jesus Christ, Alex. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why the hell should I? It’s none of your goddamn business.”
“The fuck it is. Especially when Honor’s involved.”
“Oh?” Alex took a step toward him. “And how is Honor involved exactly?”
The other two didn’t say a word. They knew. This was Gabriel’s job. “I’ve been investigating Tremain, you know that. And I found out someone was making fake reservations and cancelling them. The money trail leads back to him. So I went to Honor and—”
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