Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (28 page)

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt her and I won’t.” His fingers tightened around his glass. A lie. Because he would hurt her, he was starting to see that now. When this was over, he would be just another man who’d lied to her.

“Yeah, but does she know that?”

“Let’s keep this on the casino,” Zac murmured. “I’ll see what I can dig up about the shell company fronting it. Probably won’t be much since I haven’t been able to find anything so far. But it might be an idea to get the names and details of St. James’s Seven Devils from someone.”

“I’ll do it.” Eva put her cup back down on the table beside her. “If I can’t get it out of Alex, I’ll see if I can find it somewhere else.”

“I could ask Honor,” Gabriel offered.

“No, thank you.” She gave him a disgusted look. “I’m sure you’ve already used her enough as it is.”

“Angel, please. That isn’t helping.”

Eva extended a finger in Zac’s direction but either he didn’t see it or he chose to ignore it, because instead he looked at Gabriel. “This casino is obviously still in operation, yes?”

“I haven’t checked it, but it seems so. At least money is still coming through Tremain’s accounts.”

“You know where it is?”

“Yeah.” The other man was clearly thinking what Gabriel was. “Seems like it might be somewhere I need to visit.” That was the most logical step.

“You won’t be able to just waltz in there,” Zac said. “You’ll have to get an invite. Do you still have connections to the club you can use?”

“I left that life a long time ago, but yeah, I might. It’ll take some time though. It’s been a few years.”

Zac put a hand in his jacket and withdrew his phone, typed something into it. “You can leave it with me if you like. I’ve got some contacts who may be able to arrange something quickly.”

“You’re not worried it might seem a little … suspicious being seen there?” Eva sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “It’s not like you haven’t got a public profile.”

Gabriel finished his scotch and put the empty glass back down on the table. “I’ve never been on the right side of the law, Eva. I don’t think the casino will find my appearance too surprising. Especially not if I’m bringing a shitload of money to gamble with me.”

She frowned. “I’m still not quite sure what you’re hoping to find.”

“Think of it as a reconnaissance mission. We still don’t really know what we’re dealing with here until one of us goes and checks it out, right?”

“Yeah. I guess. What about Tremain and his company? I take it you won’t be investing now?”

“I got a formal email from him yesterday. He’s refused my investment offer.”

Her gaze was perceptive, knowing. “What are you going to do now?”

Good question. He was going to have to consider what his next step would be. If ruining the man’s business wouldn’t hurt him then he’d have to find something that would. But that was his to deal with. And maybe a visit to the casino would give him some clues.

He smiled. “I’ll figure it out.”

But first, he wanted to get home. Because for the first time in years, he had something to look forward to.

Honor.

*   *   *

Honor came out of her office building to find a car waiting at the curb, Gabriel’s driver standing next to it.

God, he’d sent her a car. Not unexpected considering the sometimes oddly considerate gestures he indulged in, but right now, after the decision she’d made, it was unwelcome.

She halted as the driver approached her. “Miss St. James? Mr. Woolf has instructed me to drive you to his home for your meeting.”

His home. Ah. That hadn’t been where she’d initially suggested they meet. She’d named a bar near Central Park but obviously Gabriel had other ideas.

He thought she was coming back to pick up where they’d left off two days ago.

Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t.

With bankruptcy staring her in the face should Guy’s company go down, and the added burden of all the damn secrets she’d just found out, her life was starting to spin out of control and she hated the feeling. Which meant that the very last thing she needed was the kind of temptation Gabriel Woolf offered.

She wanted him. Craved the heat of his touch and the mental challenge of his personality. He was intense, fascinating, complex, and all she wanted was to take what he had to give. Use it to escape her life for a little while. But now, more than ever, she had to be strong and resist. Because he was one habit she could not afford to acquire.

“I’m sorry,” Honor said. “I wasn’t aware the meeting venue had changed.”

“Mr. Woolf isn’t able to go out this evening. So rather than reschedule, he thought it would be better if you came to him.”

Honor took a silent breath. She could, of course, refuse the invite, call Gabriel up and tell him over the phone. Perhaps that would be safer. Yet it also seemed cowardly, and she definitely wasn’t that.

She gave the man a tight smile. “I suppose you’d better take me to see him then.”

The car was empty when she got in, allowing her a bit of time to relax against the soft leather of the seats and let the warmth of the heating seep through the cold that had taken up residence inside her.

Getting out her phone, she texted Violet to tell her where she was and that she’d be home late. Then, fifteen minutes later, as the car drew up outside Gabriel’s place, she smoothed her hair, touched up her lipstick, and took a deep breath, her armor firmly in place.

She would say what she needed to say and then she’d leave.

Crap. All he needs to do is touch you and you’re lost.

Then she’d better not let him touch her, had she?

The front door opened silently before she had to knock and there he was, in the doorway. In his usual uniform of jeans and T-shirt, a white one this time. He was barefoot and there was a darkening bruise on his cheekbone.

Strange how her heart contracted at the sight of the injury. As if seeing him hurt made her hurt, too. “Oh, no. What happened to your face?” she asked as he held the door open. “Are you okay?”

His dark eyes ran over her with the familiar intensity that always made the breath stop in her throat. “Come in, it’s cold.”

She stepped into the hallway and he closed the door behind her. “Gabriel, what—”

The rest of her question was cut off as his hands gripped her hips and she was pressed up against the front door, his mouth finding hers, effectively ending any further conversation.

It happened so fast that all she could do was stand there, shocked into immobility by the heat and strength surrounding her. By the hungry mouth on hers, demanding, taking. His familiar scent of leather and spice surrounded her, and she could taste the smoky edge of scotch in his kiss.

Her briefcase and purse dropped to the ground, her fingers suddenly nerveless.

God, what was happening? She was supposed to be telling him this was over. That she wasn’t doing this again with him. That she needed some distance, some space. And yet …

Helpless desire clenched tightly inside her. It had only been two days and already she felt like she was starving and he was the only food she could eat that would satisfy her.

You should get out now. While you can.

Gabriel’s hands slid down her hips to the hem of her skirt, pulling it up with a hard jerk. She gave an involuntary gasp against his mouth, bracing her palms on the hot wall of his chest. He shifted, breaking off the kiss and tilting his head, his breath harsh in her ear as he closed his teeth on the side of her neck, biting her hard.

An electric bolt of pleasure shot up her spine, the tiniest edge of pain making it that much more intense.

Get out. Now.

His hand slid up her thigh, over her butt, squeezing her. Then his fingers slipped between her legs, sliding under the plain cotton panties she wore, finding her clit with unerring accuracy, stroking with ruthless intent.

Pleasure began to climb, desperate hunger becoming fierce so quickly she could hardly breathe. It was almost frightening how fast she was there, on the edge of orgasm within a minute of stepping into his hallway. Almost terrifying when she’d been so certain she’d never do this again.

She began to tremble because he knew exactly how to touch her. How hard and where. And when his mouth covered hers again, demanding, ruthless, she knew she couldn’t do anything else but give in to it.

There was no more space to leave. No moment to take a step back and get herself out of there.

You could say no if you truly wanted to. But you don’t want to.

Honor shut her eyes, shaking against the door as Gabriel’s fingers stroked her, winding everything so tight she knew she was going to come the second he entered her.

No, she didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to push him away. She was so tired of fighting, of resisting his pull. And maybe it was too late anyway. Perhaps she was already hooked on the wildness and the heat, the uncertainty and the chaos of him. The passion. The freedom.

Which meant the only thing to do now was to embrace the addiction.

He shifted his grip on her, pulling something out of the back pocket of his jeans. A condom. Which meant he’d clearly planned on this happening between them.

“Gabriel…” she said hoarsely, not quite sure what she was going to say but feeling she had to say something.

He didn’t respond, pulling open his jeans and shoving them down on his hips, freeing his cock. Then he sheathed himself and as he did so, she realized his hand was shaking.

Shaking? She looked up into his face. Something burned in his eyes, something she didn’t recognize. Something desperate.

“Gabriel,” she said again, softer this time. A whisper.

He said nothing. Instead he put her arms over her head, one strong hand holding both her wrists, pinning her to the door. Then he slid his free hand behind her knee, lifting her leg up and around his waist.

Honor took a ragged breath, her hips tilting, the press of his erection against her aching flesh almost too much to bear. He released her leg, then he was pushing into her, a deep, hard thrust that shoved her over the edge of climax, making her cry out as it tore through her.

He didn’t stop, didn’t pause. He kept moving, a relentless, driving motion that had pleasure beginning to wind tight for a second time.

Honor squeezed her eyes shut again and closed her mouth against the moans that crowded in her throat.

“Scream,” Gabriel demanded harshly in her ear. “I want you to scream.”

Oh no, if she embraced this then she was going to embrace all of it. She was going to push him. Deny him. Test him. So he would take the control from her. Leaving her with nothing but absolute freedom.

She shook her head, a sharp refusal.

His grip on her wrists changed and she felt him pull one of her hands down and push it between them. She fought him because she wanted to, because it was exciting, but she was no match for his strength. She jerked as he brought her fingers down to where they were joined, making her feel it. The push of his cock inside her, the slick flesh of her sex stretching around him.

“Scream.” His voice was ragged. “Touch yourself and scream for me, sweetheart.” He shifted her hand higher, so her fingers brushed her clit, his hand covering hers, guiding her movements on her own flesh, relentless as a piercing kind of pleasure flooded through her.

There was no escaping it. No escaping him.

Honor embraced the chaos, a scream tearing from her throat, the thrust of him inside her and the feel of her fingers on her clit deepening the pleasure into ecstasy, a tidal wave she had no hope of stopping or holding back. And she let it. Surrendered to it.

Let it wash her away and all her futile plans with it.

She was barely aware of his own hoarse cry following hers. Barely aware of anything but the aftershocks pulsing through her. He didn’t move either, holding her against the door, the heat of his body and the feel of his arms around her all that was keeping her upright.

Silence fell, broken only by their gradually slowing breathing, and it became almost peaceful. Restful. Like she could stay here in his arms, take some comfort from his heat and his strength, and it would be okay. It wouldn’t be a failure of nerve on her part.

Eventually though, Gabriel moved and she felt him withdraw from her, unable to stifle the soft moan of protest it brought from her.

Still, he didn’t speak. Only looked down at her for a long minute, the expression on his face completely enigmatic. Then he pushed himself away from her and, without a word, walked down the hallway toward the lounge area.

Honor stared after him, still too shaken to move. What the hell?

After a long minute she stepped away from the door, smoothing down her skirt and trying to get herself back in order again. Then she picked up her purse and briefcase and followed him into the lounge.

It was empty.

She dumped her belongings down near the sectional sofa. Her legs felt shaky, her heart going too fast. And she was … angry. No, not just angry, she was pissed.

Stalking into the kitchen, she found Gabriel standing at the counter with his back to her, his hands braced on the edge of it, his head bent. Utterly still, tension in every line of his big body. As if he was in pain.

She had a sudden flashback to Vermont. When she’d gone down on him and he’d gotten up and left. Without a word. Like he had just now. As if … what they’d done had been too much for him.

Honor blinked, her heartbeat still way too fast for comfort, the sharp edges of her anger softening.

He hadn’t waited. Just pulled her inside and pushed her up against the door. His hand had been shaking as he’d put on the condom and he’d tasted of desperation …

Had that been her? Had she done that to him?

Suddenly she had to know.

She crossed the space between them, coming over to where he stood, putting a hand in the center of his back. “What’s going on, Gabriel?” There was coiled tension beneath her palm, his muscles taut.

He didn’t move. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” There was a harsh note in his voice as if the apology had been forced out.