Her Wanton Wager (32 page)

 The next instant, she found herself deposited unceremoniously at the other end of the tub. Water sluiced from Gavin's magnificently aroused physique as he rose and stepped onto the tiles. He reached for a towel and began to dry off.

"If you loved me, the choice would be simple," he said flatly.

Her frustration boiled over. "That is so deuced unfair!" she burst out. "If you cared a whit about me, you wouldn't
ask
me to choose."

He faced her, hand on his hips. He made no effort to hide his erection, which only fueled her aggravation as her body quaked with longing at the sight of the rampant instrument. So large and thrillingly masculine … so ready to please. If only the rest of the blasted man could be as accommodating.

Hastily, she lifted her gaze, only to realize he'd caught her ogling him.

"We could both be enjoying this," he said with calm arrogance, "if you weren't so bull-headed. I am going to win this wager one way or another, Persephone. You're only delaying the inevitable."

"If that's the case, why are you pressuring me?" Snatching a towel, she wrapped it around her and left the tub. She faced him with her arms crossed over her chest. "Why won't you tell me what is really going on?"

His eyes hooded, he said, "You know what is going on. I've given you ample time to come to a decision about the wager. You said you love me—now prove it."

"You're not telling me everything." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I know you by now, Gavin Hunt, and you
are
capable of compassion. You protect urchins, you've even protected my brother from that character O'Brien ... why can't you at least
consider
relinquishing Paul's vowels? Unless ..." A dreadful thought occurred to her. "Why do the shares of Fines & Company mean so much to you?"

He regarded her with a stony expression.

With trembling fear, she asked, "Did ... did Paul wrong you in some way? Does he owe you more than money—"

"This has nothing to do with your brother."

"Well, that's a relief."
Thank goodness. We can overcome anything but that.
She took a deep breath. "It's the money, then? I know you don't wish to deal with Nick, but there is another option." Cheeks warming, she said, "I have a dowry. It's not worth as much as the shares of the company, but it's quite substantial."

"I don't want your bleeding money."

Her patience snapped. "For goodness' sake, what
do
you want?"

"Justice." In that instant, Gavin transformed from her playful lover to Lord Hades himself. His eyes blazed with crystalline fire, and his arms bunched, veins prominent against the taut sinew. "Tell me, Percy: if a wrong was done to me, a grave injustice, what would you do?"

She blinked. She hadn't been expecting that. "Well," she said cautiously, "I'd support you, be there for you, no matter what. What injustice are you talking about, Gavin?"

"If it came down to making a choice," he said, ignoring her question, his eyes pinning hers, "between me and your family, who would you choose?"

"Why would I have to choose?" she asked, bewildered. "I don't understand."

"Answer my question."

"But that's ridiculous. How could I possibly say ..."

"It's a simple enough answer. Me or them?"

She chewed on her lip, her head whirling with questions, possibilities. "Is this about whether or not my family will accept our marriage? Because you don't have to worry about that. They may be a bit shocked at first,"—
there's the understatement of the century
—"but they'll come around, trust me. Once Mama gets to know you, I am sure she will adore you. As for Nicholas and Helena—"

"I don't give a damn about them," he roared. "I want to know where your loyalties lie.
Me or them
?"

"You're not giving me enough information. Without knowing the circumstances, I cannot make a choice," she said, lifting her chin.

"You want circumstances? Fine. When I take over Fines & Company and tear it to pieces, will you be standing by my side or theirs?"

Her lips parted in shock. "You mean to
destroy
Papa's company? But why?"

"Tell me this first: will you still
love
me then? Can I still trust you?"

Hope began to slip away. Numbly, she shook her head. "I couldn't allow you to demolish my father's legacy, no matter the reason. You couldn't expect me to."

"So there it is." Though his features were as rigid as a mask, anguished rage flashed through his eyes. "All your talk of love, of trust ... in the end, it amounts to nothing. You're no different than the rest."

"Now wait one minute—"

"You thought you could manipulate me. Thought you could wind me round your finger and convince me to release your brother." His hands braced his lean hips. "When were you planning on giving me the ultimatum?"

Enough was enough. Despair gave way to anger.

"I am not planning on giving you an ultimatum, you bloody ass," she said between her teeth, "because I am going to win the wager. The trouble is I fell in love with you—although at the moment I am seriously questioning my judgment."

"Just like a woman to change her mind," he sneered.

"I am
not
your mother. I'm not going to abandon you," she shot back.

Perhaps she'd gone too far. The dark flare in his eyes made her take a wary step back. He stalked toward her, backing her against the bathing room wall.

"Words, Persephone. They mean nothing if they're not backed by action." His gaze flicked deliberately to her towel. "Will you commit yourself to me?"

Her mind spun even as her traitorous body thrummed in response. Questions battled with feelings. "Trust goes both ways," she managed to say. "You cannot expect me to trust you if you do not return the favor."

"I have shared more with you than I have anyone." His jaw looked harder than basalt. "Yet it still isn't enough for you."

Forcing herself to take a breath, she said, "You haven't told me why you want to destroy Fines & Co. If I understood, we could work together toward an alternative solution." She gave him a beseeching look. "If you could just trust me."

When he didn't answer, a sinking feeling entered her midsection. She'd told herself that his intensity, his possessiveness was his way of showing his love for her. That his behavior spoke of the words he'd never been taught to say—that she would eventually reach him. But what if she'd been wrong? What if his past had irreparably damaged his ability to love and trust?

Meet me halfway,
she begged silently.
Love me as I love you.

His scar tautened. "You cannot handle the truth."

Her temper snapped. "For the last bloody time, I am not some insipid miss! If you think so little of me, I might as well leave right now." She shoved at his chest.

She gasped when he took her wrists, pinning them at her sides. A dark storm flashed in his eyes, the charge running through the sliver of air separating their bodies. Quivering, Percy waited.

"It has to do with ... Morgan," Gavin bit out. "This is between him and me."

"You mean
Nicholas
?" she said, bewildered. "You know him?"

Before he could answer, a shot tore through the night.

Gavin's head snapped up. "What the devil was that?"

Unintelligible shouting sounded through the walls. Another shot fired.

Releasing her, he yanked on his clothes. He strode to the doorway. Stopped. "We'll finish this later," he said. "For now, you stay put, do you hear me?"

Questions and worry warred within her. "Be careful," she said, her voice trembling.

He looked as though he might say more, but he gave a curt nod and exited.

THIRTY

Stewart met Gavin at the door to his apartments. "'Tis Fines. He's out in the alleyway—drunk and with pistols drawn."

Hell's teeth. Just what I need.
"Did he say what he wants?"

"I'll warrant it's your neck, lad." Stewart's eyes thinned as Gavin jammed on his boots. "You're not plannin' on going out there?"

"What bloody choice do I have? He's like as not to shoot a customer if this keeps up."

"I 'ave a better solution. I've a clear shot from behind the gate," his mentor said. "Won't aim to kill, just stop the fool from carryin' on."

He wished the solution was that easy. But Percy would not want her idiot brother shot or hurt at all. Gavin wrenched open the door. "No one's shooting anyone."

Grumbling, Stewart followed him out the into the rear courtyard. Several of Gavin's men were already outside, armed and lining the gate that separated the property from the alleyway. Shadowed by tall buildings on both sides, the narrow thoroughfare had become a place for whores to do their business and a sobering place for customers too inebriated to find their way home.

One of his men shouted through the bars, "Go home, you jug-bitten fool!"

Well-bred yet slurred accents replied from beyond the gate. "Not goin' anywhere 'til I see Hunt. I've a debt to settle with him." The tones rang with rising rage. "Are you in there, you bloody coward? Seduce an innocent girl, will you, but can't face me like a man?"

As he approached the barrier, Gavin could see it was Percy's brother—there was no mistaking the classical Fines features, the glint of golden hair in the darkness. He had to give the man credit: downtrodden fool though he was, Fines stood amidst the filthy peaks of the night's refuse like some virtuous prince.

Out of habit, Gavin scanned the alleyway. He detected no activity in the dark, gravel-lined lane except for a couple of homeless wretches picking through the rubbish heaps and the flicker of an abandoned grate. Fines had probably scared the rest off with his blustering.

"Open the gate," Gavin said to his men.

"Think twice, lad," Stewart growled. "No sayin' what this sot is capable of."

"You don't mean any harm do you, Fines?" Gavin said evenly.

On the other side of the bars, Fines stepped forward, swaying a little. Several leagues beyond drunk. The moon caught the glint of the pistol in his hand. "I mean to kill you, you bastard," he said hoarsely.

Stewart's finger twitched on the trigger.

Gavin shook his head at his mentor. Addressing Percy's brother, he said in calm voice, "Come now, Fines, you do not mean that. Let us talk this over like gentlemen." The gate opened, and he stepped out, with Stewart following behind. "If this is about your debt—"

"Damn the bloody debt! Do you think I give a donkey's arse about the company? My father and all he worked for can sink to the bottom of the Thames for all I care." Fines stumbled closer, his eyes wild. "But what you have done ... to my
sister
..."

Gavin felt the hairs rise on his nape. Fines had found out about the wager? "What do you mean?" he said in neutral tones.

"Don't play the fool with me." Raising a shaking arm, Fines pointed his weapon at Gavin. "I know what you've done.
I know.
"

Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind Gavin.

"For goodness' sake, Paul, put down that pistol at once!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Gavin's eyes twitched upward in their sockets.
Hell's teeth, can she not follow instructions just
once
?

Percy came dashing toward them, pushing her way through to the alley. Gavin glowered at the guard at the gate, who shrugged as if to say,
How am I supposed to stop her?

"Are you alright?" she said when she reached him.

"I'm fine," Gavin said shortly. "I thought I told you to stay put."

"Percy?" Fines uttered.

"Yes, dear."

She started toward her brother; Gavin clamped a hand around her wrist. "He's drunk and holding a gun," he said in terse tones.

"It's perfectly alright," she assured him. "Paul would never hurt me."

"Of course I wouldn't," Fines said in tones of bewildered frustration. "Percy, what in blazes is going on? Why are you here with that blackguard?"

Percy tugged at her hand. Gritting his teeth, Gavin forced himself to release her. It took everything in him to watch on as she flew the remaining paces toward Fines. The sight of her in another man's arms—even if that man was her kin—made him want to punch something. The other man, for starters.

"Are you alright, sis?" Fines murmured to her. But he kept one eye on Gavin, his knuckles white against the pistol.

"Yes, yes, I am fine." She lifted her head from Fines' chest, dashing the back of her hands against her cheeks. The pressure rose in Gavin's veins. Devil take it, her bacon-brained brother did not deserve tears. "Put that away, will you," she sniffled, "before someone gets hurt."

"What is going on here? Percy, did Hunt ... did he force ..." Fines' eyes widened as he took in Percy's damp, loose curls, her unbuttoned pelisse. His features twisted with tormented rage. For the first time, Gavin commiserated with the cove. If anyone had hurt Percy, he, too, would be fit for murder.

"Oh no, 'tis nothing like that," Percy said quickly. "Mr. Hunt and I are, um, friends."

Gavin's eyebrows lifted in unison with her brother's.

"Friends. With him." As if he failed to comprehend the simple statement, Fines gestured at Gavin with the pistol. "The blackguard standing over there who's holding my vowels ransom?"

"It's a long story," Percy said, "and I'll explain once you put that ridiculous weapon away."

Fines did not budge.

"This show of male bravado isn't helping anything," Percy said in exasperated tones. "How did you come to find me here?"

"I was down at the Red Lion nursing a drink because your
friend
here"—Fines spat the word—"saw to it that my credit's worth less than ashes at O'Brien's. And anywhere else, for that matter. He's destroyed my good name and for that alone I should call the rotter out."

Percy lifted her chin. "That was my doing, so don't blame Mr. Hunt."

"
Your
doing?"

"I hadn't any other means of stopping you. So I asked Mr. Hunt to put an end to your gaming because clearly you cannot stop on your own."