Dangerous to indulge that part of her. That sensual weakness. So damn dangerous. Kissing Gabriel Woolf was a slippery slope she could fall down and never stop falling.
Honor forced the fizzing, bubbling excitement away, pulling open one of the bags instead.
There was a movement behind her, Gabriel’s leather-clad elbow resting on the reception counter. She kept her attention on the bags, but it was difficult to concentrate when every sense she had seemed attuned to the figure of the man standing next to her.
She drew out a biker jacket. It was surprisingly heavy, the leather padded and soft.
The receptionist made a sighing kind of sound. “Wow. Nice.”
It was. Too nice.
Honor folded it up and put it back in the bag. “You shouldn’t have,” she said to Gabriel. “This is wasted on me.”
“Is it?” This time his voice was utterly neutral. Enough to make her glance at him. There was no shock or hunger on his face now, his features expressionless. “I’ll send it back then.” He turned his head to look at the receptionist. “Heather, could you ring the store these came from, please? Tell them I need to get a refund on—”
“Wait,” Honor said, interrupting before she could think straight. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them.” She didn’t quite know why she didn’t want Gabriel to send them back, especially when she wasn’t going to be using them, but …
His gaze came back to hers. “If you want them, put them on and meet me out front in five minutes. If you don’t, leave them here and I’ll send them back.” He pushed himself away from the desk with a lazy movement, then turned and walked toward the entrance without another word.
Honor watched him go, her heart thumping. God, what the hell was she doing? Every time he got in her vicinity she felt like she kept making mistakes. Daring him. Kissing him. Fighting him. Allowing herself to get carried away by him when she should be keeping this all about business. All about Guy and Tremain Hotels.
Yet she couldn’t deny the excitement and adrenaline still fizzing through her like champagne out of a freshly shaken bottle. Or the way her mouth was still burning from the touch of his.
Matching wits and crossing swords with Gabriel was thrilling in the way discovering a fabulous new project to invest in was thrilling. Or trading the stocks of a particularly volatile company. There had always been a reason she liked the world of high finance and it wasn’t only because of her talent with money. She liked the buzz and the challenge of it, too. The adrenaline rush of the gamble …
Of course you do. You’re like your father. Like Alex.
Honor caught her breath. No, she wasn’t like them. She was aware of her weakness. She wouldn’t give in to it and destroy herself in the process like they had. Her gambles were always calculated, always safe.
The problem was that Gabriel wasn’t safe. Not even for a moment.
Making a sudden decision, Honor pulled the bags off the counter and walked down to the cottage with them.
Perhaps this was a bad idea, but maybe the best way to handle this was to stop fighting him and go with the flow. Take the ride. If she went into this with her eyes open, fully conscious of the dangers, she’d be okay.
A calculated risk. Her favorite kind.
Honor didn’t know how he’d managed to find her size but the pants, the jacket, the gloves, and the boots all fit perfectly, even though she found moving in them strange. The leather pants and jacket were tight. It was like being encased in armor, an image that probably wouldn’t go amiss when dealing with a man like Gabriel.
Five minutes later, helmet in one hand, she walked back up the path to the front of the hotel. He was still there, crouched beside his big, black Norton, fiddling with something on the wheel.
Honor took a slow, silent breath. “So,” she said. “What about this ride then?”
His blond head turned, dark eyes sweeping over her. He didn’t move, just stared. Then he rose to his feet in a fluid movement. “Everything fits.” It wasn’t a question.
Her mouth felt dry. That look he’d given her had contained a certain amount of very obvious heat. “Evidently. How did you know my size?”
“I snuck a look at your clothes.” He didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed of himself. “Have you tried the helmet?”
“No.”
He strode over to her and once again, she couldn’t help her reaction, tensing, every single nerve ending alight. How stupid to have kissed him. Now how the hell would she cope with holding on to him on the back of a bike? So much for a calculated risk.
He took her helmet and lifted it up, gently sliding it down over her head. Sound became muffled, her peripheral vision eliminated. All she could see was him in front of her. “That fits, too. What about the gloves?”
Speaking was a touch difficult with a helmet on so she lifted her hands in the padded leather gloves, her fingers warm for the first time that day. He didn’t say anything, taking her hands unexpectedly in his and examining the fit. Thank God for the leather protecting her from the touch of his skin because even though she couldn’t feel him, she could still hear her heart beating uncomfortably loud in her ears. “Those look fine,” he said, dropping her hands. “Come on, I’ll help you onto the back.”
“I can do it myself,” she protested. The last thing she wanted was to be helped onto the bike by him, even with all the leather protecting herself.
“Of course you can,” he said. “Be my guest.” He stood back with his arms folded, watching as she awkwardly threw her leg over the bike and clambered on. There was distinct amusement in his eyes, which she decided to ignore.
“Okay,” she said, a trifle breathless, settling herself on the seat. “Let’s go.”
He smiled and she felt that electricity between them again, alive and dangerous, crackling like static in the air before a storm. “Okay, sweetheart. Hold on tight.” He picked up the helmet that sat on the seat in front of her and put it on. Then he got on the bike.
Honor held her breath. She swore she could feel the heat of him even through two sets of leather. God, perhaps this hadn’t been the greatest decision after all.
He turned his head. “Unless you want to come off the back, I suggest holding onto me.”
Well, she kind of knew this was expected.
What are you afraid of? You can handle this.
Of course she could. It was only temptation and she’d resisted so far.
Honor leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and yes, she could feel the heat of him through the leather. The power and the strength of his body like the bike beneath them. A hot engine encased in hard steel.
Gabriel kicked the stand up and started the machine. She could feel the roar of it go through her, keying into the excitement she’d felt the moment before she’d kissed him. The moment before she’d accepted his challenge.
Her arms tightened around his waist and behind her visor, despite herself, Honor grinned.
He didn’t give her any warning, just opened the throttle and took off.
* * *
He’d never liked riding with other people. Even when he’d been with the club, he wasn’t one of the guys who had their old ladies on the back, not that he’d had an old lady anyway, since he preferred being solitary. It was easier as a leader. But he had to admit, there was something about riding along a snowy forest road with Honor St. James holding on tight to him.
She was a small, slight presence behind him but he could feel her. Oh yeah, he could. Her thighs on either side of his, her arms holding him tight, her gloved hands a light pressure against his abdomen.
He was satisfied she was there, that she’d chosen to come with him. He’d wondered at first whether his different approach would work since even with his apology she hadn’t seemed all that impressed. But he should have known appealing to the part of her that loved a challenge would be successful.
Though she hid it well, she was a gambler at heart, just like her brother. Thriving on risk, the thrill of the odds, the rush of the win. That kiss she’d given him had been evidence enough of that.
He could still feel that kiss, too, a reverberation that had gone deeper than any kiss had a right to go. He didn’t want to think about that. Or about the way something inside him had answered her—or at least wanted to answer. This physical attraction between them had to be managed carefully. Otherwise, it was going to take over and he couldn’t let that happen.
On either side of them snow-laden trees whipped by, the icy chill of the wind clawing at their clothing. He opened the throttle, building up a bit of speed, but not too much since the road was wet. He’d planned on doing a circuit of the lake, including stopping at a rustic looking store-café that sold Vermont’s famous maple syrup and maple candy. She might like that, and he could buy her a hot chocolate. Talk to her about things other than business. Get her off the defensive for a moment.
Hell, perhaps he could even give her some more information on Alex, though he knew his friend wouldn’t want him to.
He wouldn’t want you being with Honor either and yet here you are.
Too bad. Gabriel had a lot of respect for his friend but he couldn’t afford to have any scruples when it came to taking Tremain down. It was too important. The whole of his early existence had been bent on clawing himself a life from the shit hand he’d been dealt, a life for his mother and himself that meant being safe and having enough food to eat. And when that had been accomplished, he’d had to fight to hold onto it, to protect those who mattered to him. And fought he had. With everything in him.