Honor tried to find some patience, but it was difficult. She’d thought Guy would be pleased—no, she’d thought he’d be ecstatic—to finally get the backing he needed to save his hotel chain.
“What’s the problem with him?” Honor asked. “You can’t argue with his money.”
Guy raised a hand to his perfectly coiffed hair, touched it lightly. “I’m not sure I want a man like him associated with Tremain Hotels.”
“Why? Because of those ridiculous drug dealer rumors?”
“They’re not exactly rumors. He was definitely involved with some outlaw motorcycle gang and you know what kinds of things those sorts of people are involved in.”
She suspected she did. Gabriel Woolf did have the look of a man who would do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. A man who probably had done whatever was necessary. It intrigued her.
You’re also attracted to him.
Well, yes. She was. But he was a potential client and she made a point not to go there. It was bad business. Besides, even if he hadn’t been a client, she didn’t have time for a lover these days, not when her company consumed most of her life.
“Well, okay, so he was involved with some kind of biker gang,” she said. “But that was years ago. He’s a fairly respectable businessman now.”
Guy smoothed the napkin out with small, precise movements of his fingers. “Forgive me, Honor, but you have no idea what he’s like now.”
“Neither do you.”
“Au contraire. I spent a good part of this morning investigating Woolf Construction and not all of it is good.”
Honor raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“A number of things. Which I’m not going to go into now but suffice it to say I have my doubts. Significant doubts.”
“Things, Dad? Seriously?”
“Honor, please.” He picked up the napkin from his knee and put it on the table. “Gabriel Woolf is not someone I want associated with the chain. I want you to find another investor.”
A burst of irritation went through her. “There are no other investors. That’s the problem. No one wants to touch Tremain.”
“What about Void Angel? You mentioned Eva King was interested?”
Yes, she was. But Gabriel had told her, at the end of their meeting the night before, that Eva would put forward money only if Gabriel did. Honor had received an e-mail confirming it from Eva herself.
“Eva’s conditional on Gabriel. If you don’t want him, you’ll lose her, too.”
Her stepfather, who never swore, cursed under his breath and looked away over the crowded restaurant.
What on earth was his problem? What did he know about Woolf that she didn’t?
“What’s going on?” Honor asked. “I thought you’d be pleased about this.”
His attention flicked back to her. Then he reached over and patted her hand where it lay on the table next to her wineglass. “I appreciate the work you put into this, dear, I really do. Never doubt that.”
“I can hear the ‘but.’”
His gaze became oddly focused. “Are you sure you can’t find any other investors?”
“Uh, no. I’ve been working on this for months, you know that. No one wants to take on a failing hotel chain in this economic climate.”
Guy looked pained. “Honor, please.”
“I’m sorry, but ‘failing’ is the only word for it.” She placed her other hand on the table and looked at him. She didn’t know what his issue with Gabriel Woolf was but he had to put it aside. Because it wasn’t just him who would lose if Tremain went down the drain. There was her mother, too and God knew, she had already been involved in the spiral of bankruptcy and debt with one man. She surely didn’t need to go through it again with another.
Anyway, that wasn’t even considering all the money Honor had invested in it herself.
She’d even told herself that there was a chance for some good returns. But that had always been predicated on whether or not she’d be able to get other investors to come to the party. And if she couldn’t?
No more Louboutins for you …
No, dammit, it wasn’t about all the pretty things she’d no longer have the money for. It was her reputation as well. She was known as one of the top investors in the city, so how would it look if she made a bad investment herself? Not good, obviously.
Honor gritted her teeth. “You don’t have a lot of choice, Dad. You either take on Gabriel Woolf or you file for bankruptcy. Those are your only two options.”
Guy let out a breath and picked up his wineglass. He, too had a taste for the finer things in life. Especially wine. Taking a sip, he frowned at her over the rim of his glass. “There have to be others,” he said, as if expecting her to magically produce them.
“There aren’t. Believe me.” Trying for calm, she went on, “Think of my mother. She barely survived my dad and his debts. Going through the same thing with you would be a killer.”
It was true. Elizabeth St. James had been a beautiful trophy wife whose whole world had been her children and the charitable work she’d spent most of her time on. And when Honor’s father had died leaving her saddled with the gambling debt no one had known anything about, she’d fallen apart, leaving an eight-year-old Honor to fend for herself.
If Elizabeth hadn’t met Guy, Honor shuddered to think what would have happened.
The look in her stepfather’s eyes changed. Became softer. “Yes, that’s true. And then there’s the money you’ve invested, too, dear girl. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”
Honor wanted to wave that away but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Money was important. People liked to think it wasn’t, that it couldn’t buy you happiness but those people didn’t know what it was like not to have it. To have everything taken away, leaving you with nothing. She still remembered the debt collectors. The look of shock on her mother’s face as one of them had wrenched the diamond tennis bracelet off her wrist. The lack of understanding in her expression. How could they owe money? Her husband was an eminent lawyer, earning six figures.
But of course, as they’d found out, that wasn’t all he was.
“Well, yes,” Honor said. “There’s that, too. But it’s your company. You have final say.”
Slowly Guy eased back in his chair. “What was he like?”
“Who?”
“Gabriel Woolf.”
That didn’t take much thought. “Smart. Sharp.” Sexy. “Dangerous.”
Guy’s expression darkened. “So you know what I mean?”
“Yes, okay, I do. But regardless of what he was like, it’s his money that counts.”
“I suppose so.”
At that moment, Honor’s phone began to ring. She glanced down at the screen and felt a small shiver go down her spine as she saw the number. Gabriel.
“It’s him,” she said. “So is that going to be a yes?”
Her stepfather was scowling at the phone.
“Dad?”
“Yes,” he said at last. “Since we have no choice.”
A certain amount of relief poured through her, though she didn’t let it show. “Great,” she breathed. Then picking up the phone, she hit the answer button. “Hello, Mr. Woolf.”
“You’ve got me on your phone already? I’m flattered.” The roughness of his deep voice made something clench hard in her stomach.
She tried to ignore the feeling. “Don’t be. I have all my business contacts programmed into my phone. So you’ll be pleased to know my stepfather has okayed Woolf Construction as an investment partner.”
“Not that he had any other choice, am I right?”
“Oh, we had choices. Your offer was merely the best.”
“But you’re pleased, aren’t you, little girl?”
“Am I?”
There was a small pause. “Oh, come on. Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t find out about your own investment in Tremain?”
Irritation crept under her skin like a burr. Dammit. She hadn’t been ready for him to find that out just yet. “Since it wasn’t a secret, no, I didn’t think that,” she said coolly, aware of Guy’s gaze on her from across the table.
“So you do have something to lose if this doesn’t pan out.”
“We all have things to lose, Mr. Woolf.”
“Very cryptic, sweetheart. I think I’m going to enjoy finding out what those things of yours are.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a condition before I invest a dime in Tremain.”
Honor went still, conscious of her heartbeat accelerating. A condition from Gabriel Woolf? She had a feeling that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. “What is it?” she asked with as much of her earlier cool as she could muster. “And if this is a thinly disguised pickup line, you can think again.”
A soft, surprisingly seductive laugh came through the phone. “Oh, baby, none of my pickup lines are ever gonna be thinly disguised, believe me. If I want you, you’ll know all about it straight up.”
She didn’t know why that comment should make her feel breathless, set her heartbeat racing. Because though he was a very attractive man—yes, he was, she could admit that to herself—he wasn’t a man she would ever want. She preferred men with more sophistication, who were far more civilized than he was.