The silence in the kitchen was thick with tension, the sizzle of the cooking food a strange, domestic counterpoint.
Honor gripped her mug like it was a life preserver. She didn’t know what to say, ice moving slowly down her spine.
“I don’t regret what I did,” he said after a pause. “And I don’t expect forgiveness for it. I did what I had to do to protect people the only way I knew how. What I regret is that I even had to do it in the first place.” A note of weariness had crept into his cold, dark voice. A bleakness that made her eyes prick with strange tears. “I was seven when I was first given a package by one of the men in the club to take to some guy on a corner,” he went on. “I got money for it, a lot of money. My mother found it hard holding down a job so I kept doing it. Who would say no to that much money? It wasn’t until I was ten that I figured out what was in those packages. I kept doing it though because we needed to eat.” He raised the spatula he was holding, moved the food around in the frying pan. “The old man who gave me the packages, he looked out for me. Taught me things. I didn’t have a dad so he was kind of like one to me.” Gabriel paused. “And when I was old enough, he asked if I wanted to be part of his club. I said yes. He was the president, you see.”
Honor blinked hard, not wanting to say anything, not wanting to even breathe in case he stopped speaking.
“The Angels were my family,” Gabriel went on. “They had my back. They weren’t good guys, but they had a code I respected. And then shit started to go down, a rival club encroaching on our territory. Our president, that old guy I met, was killed. And I decided I wanted the job because there were certain things in our neighborhood I didn’t like. Drugs for a start. Prostitution. So I made sure I got it. And then I made sure our neighborhood was clean.”
Another silence fell.
She stared at him, cooking her breakfast and telling her of his hard, violent start in life. The things he’d done … “You didn’t think about … I don’t know … getting rid of the gangs?”
“That would have left a power vacuum and some other fuckers would have taken over.”
“The police—”
“They didn’t give a shit. There was only me.”
Him and his strength. A protectiveness twisted by the life he’d been born into. She looked away, her throat thick with a grief she knew she shouldn’t be feeling. “What about getting out somehow? Finding a different life for yourself?”
“I did. Eventually. There was shit I had to do that I couldn’t as part of the MC. So Alex and I went in together to buy that first piece of real estate. I renovated it. Sold it. Everything went from there.”
Honor swallowed. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“So you know. So you never go thinking I’m something I’m not. I’m not your friend, Honor, and I’m not a man you want to stick close to. Don’t let a couple of orgasms blind you.”
She put her mug down, folded her arms across her chest and the knot of emotion sitting in the middle of it. “You seem very anxious for me to know the worst about you. Why is that?”
He didn’t answer, turning off the gas burner and putting the food onto a plate. “Go sit at the table. Breakfast’s ready.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They ate in silence. But that was okay. He was sick of hearing himself talk anyway.
He’d been quite deliberate, telling her everything. Making sure she had no illusions about him. Maybe it was because of the way she’d trusted him the night before, or maybe it was because he’d never explicitly told anyone about his past and wanted someone to know. But for whatever reason, it was done now and there was no taking it back.
If he’d been a better man, he would have gone on and told her that he was using her for his own ends. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t a better man. He never would be.
Pushing away his plate, he sat back in his seat and watched her as she daintily ate her bacon, cutting it up into tiny little pieces and using her fork to eat each piece like a real lady.
A real lady he’d had sobbing in his arms the night before as he’d screwed her senseless.
Desire flared inside him and he let it burn, the perversity of having this delicate, sophisticated woman in bed with a beast like him an incredible turn-on. That he was going to get information out of her after telling her all the bad things he’d done, then take her to bed and make her scream again, only made it more erotic.
Yeah, he was a sick fuck but at least he owned it.
Honor met his gaze as she took another bite of her bacon. The look in her eyes was guarded, her expression neutral. He had no idea what she thought about the things he’d told her, and he told himself he didn’t care.
Liar. You do.
That was the thing. He couldn’t afford to.
“I suppose it’s my turn now, isn’t it?” she said after a moment.
“All that shit wasn’t a transaction, little girl. You’re going to tell me about your stepfather whether or not I tell you about my past.”
She speared another bacon piece. “All right. What do you want to know?”
“How did your mother meet him?”
“He was a friend of my father’s. Like I told you yesterday, they were at college together. After Daniel’s death, he … helped Mom. She suffered from depression for a few years, drank a bit. Guy got her out of it.”
Gabriel watched her, the flickering in her eyes, the tightness around her mouth. “What makes you think he’s such a goddamn good man?”
She looked away from him, down to her plate. “I spent those years having to look after my own mother. I was eight, nine. And it was hard. Guy came in and made it all better. Looked after Mom. Looked after me, too. He was there for all my school performances, all my award ceremonies. He was there the way Daniel wasn’t. That’s why I call him ‘Dad.’ Because he was more my father than Daniel ever was.”
The information didn’t sit well with Gabriel. The guy was a fucking rapist so either he hid his evil well or … what? His own mother hadn’t even counted because she was only a hotel maid? That he’d looked after Honor and her mother while he and Corrine …
Oh sure, he cared. Don’t forget that goddamned check.
Hush money. That his mother hadn’t even cashed.
“So apart from his wonderful role-model qualities and his apparently shitty business sense, what else do you know? Did he have any other friends? Colleagues?”
“I’m not sure what else to tell you. No, I don’t know anything about his colleagues. I know he was friends with a few other people from college, again, friends of Daniel’s, too. They used to have get-togethers sometimes at home. Mom would play hostess.” Her brow creased. “If you’re wanting any information about why he’s doing this with Tremain Hotels, I don’t know. He has no enemies. I can’t imagine what kind of thing you think I can tell you.”
Frustration burned. It wasn’t enough. She’d been a child when he’d come into her life and what she knew of him would be colored by a child’s memories. But there was that connection with her father …
“That money came from the same casino your father ran,” he said. “They were friends. He’s involved somehow.”
Honor glanced away. “I … don’t want to believe it. Guy was as shocked as anyone about Daniel’s debts. He wouldn’t…” She stopped. “He didn’t know. He didn’t.”
“And yet he was there for your mother. Just waiting to pick up the pieces.”
Pain flashed through her blue eyes and behind it, a defensive anger. “Why are you so determined to believe there’s something bad behind this?”
“People don’t launder money for fucking fun, sweetheart. And they don’t run businesses purposefully into the ground. It’s not going to be good whatever it is.”
“But you think he had something to do with Daniel’s death. Isn’t that what you’re trying to say?”
“I’m not saying that. Yet the links are there.” And they were missing something, he was sure of it. “It’s to
o much of a coincidence that Tremain is receiving money from the casino your father used to own.”
She’d gone pale again. “He’s a good man. He is.”
No, he wasn’t. He was a rapist. And the life Gabriel had was the life that Tremain had given him. But if Tremain was running his own company into the ground, then the revenge Gabriel had planned—no, the justice he wanted—would all come to nothing.
He ignored the strange reluctance to push her that had come out of nowhere. “What happened to your father’s debts? How were they paid?”
She looked back down at her plate. “Our belongings were repossessed. My mother’s jewelry, family heirlooms. She had to sell the house. It was … awful.”
It must have been, from the expression on her face. Yet she was damn lucky she even had belongings to repossess. He should have felt righteous anger at the poor-little-rich-girl sound in her voice but somehow, he didn’t. He only felt … sorry for her.
Irritated, Gabriel ignored that feeling, too. “Did the money from that pay them all off?”
“No. We had a shortfall. And that was when Guy stepped in, because he was Daniel’s friend. He helped Mom pay off the rest of the debts.”
Gabriel went still. “He paid them?”
“Yes. The Tremains are from old money and they have a lot of it. Guy was very generous.”
That was the link right there, the link he’d been looking for. For some reason Tremain, who was laundering money for the casino, had also paid off his old friend’s debts to that very same casino. Then married his widow. That could not be a coincidence.
The crease between Honor’s brows deepened. “What are you thinking?”
That strange reluctance sunk its claws into him. This was not the news she wanted to hear. Her world had already been turned upside down and his suspicions weren’t going to make it any easier—if they happened to be true, of course. But he had a horrible feeling they were.
“I’m thinking Tremain married your mother for reasons other than love.”
Her mouth opened in shock, all the remaining color leaving her face. “What are you suggesting?”
“That perhaps he married your mother to hide the evidence of the casino’s debts. Perhaps even that he was paid to do so.”
Honor stood up, the chair scraping harshly on the wooden floor as she shoved it back. “No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “No. That’s ridiculous. He married Mom because he loved her.”
Christ, there it was again. That need to go to her and take her in his arms, comfort her the way he’d wanted to the night before. But again he ignored it.
Whatever Tremain’s real reasons, Honor had to come to terms with the fact that the father figure she loved was not the man she thought he was. And never had been. He couldn’t help her with that, she needed to deal with it herself.
“I didn’t say anything about love. The fact remains that he has connections to that casino. It’s too much of a coincidence that he suddenly appears after your father’s death, paying off his debts and marrying his widow.”
“He was Daniel’s friend! He was helping his family out!”
“He’s laundering money for the same casino that your father managed. You can’t tell me that’s not suspicious.”
Honor picked up her plate. “I don’t want to hear any more, please. I can’t … I just can’t…” She stopped and turned abruptly toward the kitchen area, disappearing through the doorway.
Fuck. It.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair and ran a distracted hand through his hair. This was not what he wanted. Yes, he needed to know more about these connections with Tremain and the casino but he also wanted … Honor. He’d gotten information, it was true, but he didn’t like pushing her. Didn’t like making her feel bad. Especially when he wanted her for the whole damn day in his bed. Except after this he was betting that sex wasn’t uppermost in her mind.
Shoving his chair back he got up and went to the kitchen doorway.
She had the dishwasher open, bending over it to put her plate in. The T-shirt rode up her thigh, barely covering her butt. His T-shirt. Jesus. That fact should not be making him hard and yet it did.
Honor straightened, shut the dishwasher, and met his gaze. “I need to go,” she said flatly. “I need some time to get my head around Guy and what he’s doing with the company, let alone having to handle the kind of accusations you’re making.”
He didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay here with him.
Gabriel moved away from the doorway, stalking over to where she stood. He put his hands on her hips and backed her up against the counter, holding her there. She tipped her head back, looking up at him, her arms crossed defensively over her breasts. The look in her eyes was guarded but he could see something else beneath it. Pain. Shock.
“If you’re planning on confronting Tremain, like I said, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I have to—”
“No, you don’t.”
“Gabriel, please.”
“No.” He tightened his hold, not only to prevent her from moving. The sweet smell of her was beginning to cloud his own senses and right at this moment, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than pick her up and put her on the counter, bury himself inside her.
She looked away from him, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Hell, she could probably feel the fucking hard-on in his jeans. “I’m not going to warn him or anything,” she said thickly. “I just…”
“Need to get away from me,” he finished. It wasn’t a question, he knew. Because he was the one who’d shattered her world and when she wanted to protect herself, she withdrew.
She didn’t answer but her throat moved as she swallowed, thick black lashes veiling her gaze.
“Fuck that,” he said. “Getting away from me isn’t what you need.”
“Of course,” she responded, her voice edged with sarcasm. “And I suppose you’re going to inform me exactly what it is I need? Since I don’t understand my own feelings.”
Gabriel cupped her face between his palms, turning her to face him.
She tried to pull away but he didn’t let her, tipping her head back so their eyes met. “Don’t,” she said thickly, her lashes falling as if trying to hide from him.
But he saw the sheen in her blue gaze anyway. Fuck, she was crying.
He didn’t understand comfort. Didn’t understand how to make someone feel better because no one had done that for him. The only thing he remembered from childhood was the kisses his mother used to give him when he’d hurt himself. Kisses that had stopped the moment he’d gotten old enough for her to see another man in his face. The man who’d raped her. He’d been ten.
After that there had been no more kisses. No more hugs. His mother had tried not to touch him at all. Only given him lectures on how important it was to be good. Obey his teachers. Obey God. Because the devil knew the evil in men’s hearts and could use it for his own ends.
Shit, the devil had already used him.
“You’re crying.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek, feeling the wetness against his skin. “For him?”
She didn’t speak for a long moment. “I loved him,” she said eventually. “I mean, I still do. He’s … my father. But if all of this is true? It means everything is a lie. Every single thing. And I thought … I thought all the lies were finally over.”
There was pressure inside him, tension pulling tight. He didn’t know quite what he was doing, but like he had last night, he’d taken something from her. Something that had been precious. Which meant he had to give something back.
An eye for an eye. At least that was what the Reverend had always taught him.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” And he was sorry. Sorry that she was hurt. Because he was starting to realize that seeing her in pain made something inside him hurt, too.
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault. And I shouldn’t be blaming you for it.”
He stroked her c
heek again then let his thumb move to her mouth, slowly tracing the line of her lower lip. She shivered.
No, shit, he didn’t know how to give her comfort. But there was always pleasure. He knew how to give her that. Perhaps it would be enough.
Gabriel bent his head and covered her mouth with his.
She stiffened but he didn’t let her go. Gently he pressed against her lower lip with his thumb, opening her mouth, letting him inside. Honor made a soft sound. Then the stiffness gradually left her body and she leaned into him, her hands on his chest, her mouth opening under his, kissing him back.
Desire began to rise, hungry and dark, but he held it back because the kiss was sweet. Sweeter than any other kiss he’d had before and for some reason, he wanted to hold onto that.
Eventually though, sweet wasn’t enough.
He lifted his head. “We don’t have to think about this now. What I want is you in my bed, like I said.”
She was flushed, her breathing fast. “Okay. But afterward … I need some space, Gabriel. Some time to sort things out about Dad. A few days at least.”
That’s a good idea. She’s getting to you and you know it.
The thought was uncomfortable, but this time he couldn’t deny the truth of it. She was getting to him. Here he was, kissing her sweetly for fuck’s sake, because he didn’t like the fact that she was hurting. Which hadn’t been part of his plan at all.
So maybe some distance would be good. For both of them.
“Okay,” he said. “A few days.” Then he gripped her chin in his hand, tilted her head back, and kissed her again.
And this time he didn’t stop.
* * *
Honor let herself into the town house where her mother lived with Guy. It wasn’t far from Central Park, an expensive, elegant neighborhood. Very much her mother’s kind of thing.
She stood for a moment in the quiet hallway, letting the icy chill from the winter outside dissipate as heat seeped into her. Her mother liked to be warm and usually had the central heating turned up way too high. Pleasant for the first five minutes and then it got kind of uncomfortable.
Once her feet had unfrozen themselves, she stripped off her coat and gloves, holding them over her arm as she went down the hallway to the front lounge area, putting her head around the door.
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