Mine to Take(14)

“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.”

“Bullshit you’re not here to challenge me.” The light was behind his tall figure, gilding the blond spikes of his hair and shadowing his face, making his eyes seem even darker. “Standing there all cool, calm, and collected in that tight little trench coat. Acting like I don’t affect you in any way. What’s that if not a challenge?”

Dammit. There was no escaping her physical reaction to his nearness, her heart racing faster, an ache gathering tightly down low inside her. She could feel his warmth and he smelled of leather, a rich, spicy scent that made her think of what it would be like to ride with him on the back of that massive black motorcycle she’d seen parked outside the front of the hotel. Her thighs spread on either side of his, her arms around his lean waist, pressed up against his back, leaving everything behind. Her mother, her stepfather, her business …

No. Don’t go there. Don’t even think it.

God, no. Not when she kept the weakness deep inside herself. The wild, irresponsible part of her that loved a challenge, a game, an adrenaline rush. It was a vulnerability she and Alex had inherited from their father and she knew where it ultimately led: to destruction. She indulged it every so often with a little harmless credit-card abuse at her favorite shops, but that was it.

Control. That was the key. It had kept her away from the abyss for years. She could not afford to let it slip now.

“You don’t affect me.” She kept her arms tightly folded and her voice cool and steady. Telling him. Telling herself. “Which is why I don’t give a damn where I sleep. But all that aside, haven’t we got more important things to do than trade double-entendres?”

His laugh, a soft, lazy sound, felt like the brush of velvet over her skin. “Don’t worry. We have plenty of time for all those important things. I’m not interested in talking business right at the moment.”

“So what are you interested in talking about then?”

He tilted his head to the side, his gaze following down the line of her body and back up again, making it very, very clear what he was interested in. “I would very much like to talk about when we start fucking.”

The word was a harsh, sharp jolt. But there was also a brutal eroticism to it that touched something raw inside her. That wild part …

Honor took a small, silent breath to steady herself. “Charming, as ever, Mr. Woolf. I’m flattered, obviously. But you should know that sex isn’t part of my negotiating method.” She managed a patient smile. “Besides, I never mix business with pleasure.”

The expression on his face didn’t change. “That’s a shame. And ordinarily, I’d leave it at that. But in this case, you’re ignoring one very important variable.”

“I am? Well, don’t keep me in suspense, please.”

Without any hurry at all, Gabriel reached out and deftly pulled open the belt that held her trench coat closed. Then he settled his large, shockingly warm hands on her hips and tugged her right up against him.

He did it so slowly. She had plenty of time to get away. And afterward, she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t. Why she hadn’t stepped back, told him not to touch her ever again. But she didn’t. Her arms unfolded and she just stood there, her mind utterly blank as her body settled against his, as the heat of him burned like a furnace through the layers of leather and wool and silk. Burned until she was sure she could feel it against her bare skin.

“Sexual chemistry,” he said. “That’s the variable you’re forgetting, Honor.”

She didn’t move. To be honest, she couldn’t move. Even thinking was difficult right now. She didn’t know where to put her hands so she kept them by her side, trying to keep her fingers relaxed and loose. But it was difficult with his body right … there. Oh yes, right there …

“What about it?” she asked, struggling and failing to stop the huskiness from creeping into her voice. To stop herself from melting against the hard expanse of his chest.

His fingers flexed on her hips, squeezing gently, and her breathing almost stopped. God, she wasn’t that hard up that his slightest touch could steal everything from her, was she?

“Sweetheart, if you have to ask me that question,” his voice was soft, rough, and hypnotic, “then you’ve never felt it before.”

She could feel his hips against hers, the ridge of his cock pressing between her thighs. Large and hard, just like the rest of him. She found herself looking up into his eyes. They were black as night, a velvet kind of darkness that would wrap her up and drown her in sensuality. In heat …

He’d be rough. Would probably hold her down. And he’d fuck her, make her take him and she’d love it. The ultimate rush …

He gave another one of those husky laughs. “Looks to me like we’ve got an interesting week ahead of us, hmm?” Then before she was ready—way, way before—he let her go, stepping back and turning toward the door to the bedroom. “Think about the answer to my question, Honor,” he said casually as he went ahead and pulled it open. “I want the answer as soon as I’ve finished my shower.”