“I’ll pick you up outside your office at five p.m.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Be there, Honor.” He ended the call abruptly, leaving her staring at her phone in a combination of shock and annoyance.
Violet leaned on one elbow. “Soooo, are you going to tell me what that was all about? I gather it was Tall, Rough, and Sexy?”
“He wants to talk with me about the Tremain investment.”
“Just business then?”
“From the sounds of it.” Worry settled in her gut. Whatever he wanted to see her about, it couldn’t be good.
Yet despite her anxiety, something else fizzled in her veins. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Excitement. Hunger …
Honor pushed the feelings away. “So, dessert?”
“You know,” Violet said casually. “You could also ask him about Alex.”
God, she so did not want to add Alex into the mix. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Hey, it’s just an idea. I mean, you don’t have to get in touch with him or anything. You only have to ask a few questions. And then you’d know, right?”
Honor frowned. “You’re kind of annoying, Vi.”
“I know it’s low of me but still. You’ll never know the truth if you don’t take this opportunity. Who knows what happened to Alex? And if it’s bad, if he had good reason to leave, then wouldn’t you want to know?”
It was true. Dammit.
Honor sighed. “You’re a pain in the butt.”
“So I’ve heard. Does that mean I still get to share your chocolate cake?”
* * *
Gabriel checked his watch. Five minutes after five and Honor hadn’t come out of her office. Traffic was as thick as the snow and it was going to take a while to get home as it was. Then again, he wasn’t in a rush.
He sat back on the soft leather of the limo seats. “Another five minutes, Smith, and I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure, Mr. Woolf? I can easily—”
“No. I’ll do it.” He didn’t want anyone else’s input tonight. Because he was going to confront Honor St. James once and for all. Get the truth from her one way or another.
Be cold. Don’t get distracted by softer emotions. Think only of justice.
From inside the pocket of his jacket, his phone chimed. He took it out and checked the screen. A text from Alex. Why the fuck did his friend always send him texts just as he was about to meet Honor? It was like he had a sixth sense or something.
You’re back early I hear. Vermont too cold for you?
He was going to have to tell his friend about the things Zac had discovered at some point. He had a feeling Alex would want to know. Then again, maybe some of those things Alex did already know.
Quickly, he texted his friend back.
Business back in NY. BTW, we’re going to need to get another Circles club meeting happening.
A small pause and then Alex’s response came back.
Oh? This is early. Months early.
Gabriel took another glance out the window. Still no Honor. He returned his attention to his phone.
I have info we need to discuss. This Saturday.
Alex responded:
I’ll have to reschedule things but okay. Usual room.
“Here she comes, Mr. Woolf.”
Gabriel looked up as Smith was in the process of getting out of the car. Outside on the sidewalk he saw Honor come out of her building, a familiar black trench coat belted tightly around her slender waist. Like the day he’d met her, she was in one of her tight little skirts, those expensive red-soled shoes on her feet, black boots that hugged her calves this time.
Her leg propped against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her thigh. Inside her as she arched her back, letting him slide even deeper …
Jesus Christ, not now. He had to maintain his distance, not think about sex.
Gabriel pushed the memory away as the limo door opened, icy air and snow swirling inside, and then there she was. Sliding onto the seat opposite him, her delicate face flushed with cold, making her eyes glow midnight blue.
One look into those eyes and he’d forgotten where he was. So much heat. Warming him up from the inside. Burning away the cold …
“Hello, Gabriel,” she said.
He almost shook his head to clear the memories, catching himself at the last second. Christ, he had to get a grip.
Leaning back in his seat, he said. “You like to keep me waiting, don’t you, little girl?”
“I had a few things to finish up. You had something to say about the Tremain investment. Please don’t tell me you’re pulling out, because I thought we had a deal.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
Her gaze met his. “Then what is it?”
The expression on her face gave nothing away. God, she was good at hiding her emotions and her thoughts. But then, he was good at that, too.
“How well do you know your stepfather?”
She blinked, obviously taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”
“I found things while I was looking over the Tremain financial reports. Irregularities.”
“Irregularities?”
This time he was sure he caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. Perhaps she didn’t know anything. Maybe this was news to her. Either that or she was a very good actress indeed. “Lots of reservation cancellations at the less-than-twenty-four-hour mark. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“That the hotel keeps the deposit paid. But that’s not unusual, is it?”
“It is if the deposits have been paid by people who don’t exist.”
Honor stared at him. “I don’t understand. What do you mean people who don’t exist?”
“I mean that the people who made those reservations aren’t actual people.”
“Who are they then?”
There was genuine puzzlement on her face. At least, he thought it was genuine. “I had a contact of mine follow the money trail. It leads to places you don’t want to know about.” He held her gaze, leaning forward, his forearms on his knees. “It looks like your stepfather is running a money-laundering scam through his hotels. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, sweetheart?”
She’d gone pale. “No,” she said in a shaken voice. “No, that’s not true.”
“It is. I’ve seen the evidence. And that’s not all. There’s a reason Tremain Hotels is failing. It looks like he’s deliberately running it into the ground.”
Honor’s throat moved, her eyes wide and dark in her pale face. She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe it. He … he wouldn’t do that.”
There was nothing forced in the look of shock on her face, which meant it was probably genuine. She clearly hadn’t known about this. A thread of relief wound through him, which didn’t make any kind of sense because surely he didn’t care whether she was in on it or not. Nevertheless, he was glad she wasn’t.
“You didn’t know?” he asked, to be sure.
“No,” she snapped. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. Which makes me wonder why the hell I should believe you.”
“Because I’ve got all the fucking evidence on a memory stick in a safe in my apartment.”
“In a safe?”
“The information is commercially sensitive.” Not to mention volatile. Because it didn’t only involve Tremain. It involved Daniel St. James as well.
But she kept shaking her head, glossy black hair brushing her shoulders. “No. You’re wrong. You’re completely and utterly wrong. Why would he do that? He has no reason to.”
“He’s getting money from somewhere, Honor. And he has to get rid of it on the sly, that’s why he’s laundering it.”
She went very still, her gaze pinning him to the spot. “I want proof.”
Slowly, Gabriel sat back. “I told you, it’s back at my apartment. We can go—”
“No.” The look in Honor’s eyes blazed. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I see hard evidence for these … baseless accusations.”
Of course she wouldn’t. But he really didn’t want to show her the evidence now. At least not in a car on the side of the road. The information he’d uncovered was going to hurt her, and that unfamiliar kernel of concern that he only seemed to feel for her didn’t want to see her in pain. She needed to be somewhere private. Somewhere protected.
Yet it was obvious she wasn’t even going to listen until he’d given her reason to believe him.
Reluctantly, Gabriel reached into the pocket of his jacket, brought out his phone, and began scrolling through his e-mails until he’d found the one Zac had forwarded him. All the important financial information was on the memory stick, but he had a couple of incriminating e-mails that Zac had managed to find. Tremain warning someone that the cancellations had come to the notice of hotel staff and were being monitored. That they needed to let a couple of days pass without a cancellation in order to allay suspicion.
He opened the e-mail and handed the phone to Honor without a word.
She took it, sitting back against the seat, looking down at the screen, the black wings of her hair framing her face. Her finger trembled as she touched the screen, scrolling down as she read, and the concern inside him tightened. He felt the oddest urge to gather her into his arms. Hold her. Comfort her somehow.