she had been the day before. She couldn’t afford to be.
He was a client. And that was all.
Footsteps sounded and she looked up as Gabriel came toward her, stalking across the snowy ground like a panther, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, heavy black boots making crunching sounds in the snow.
She straightened. Already she could feel herself tensing up in response to his nearness, which was irritating in the extreme. “I hope you left poor Lindsay alive. I don’t think he was expecting to be grilled quite so intensely.”
Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “He’s still breathing. You have a problem with me asking questions?”
“No, but we don’t often have investors who want to know every single detail.”
“Details are important. Especially where money is concerned. And most especially when it’s my money.”
“Fair enough. You have more you want to see?”
“Not today.” The winter sunlight gilded his hair in stark contrast to the darkness of his eyes as they swept over her, assessing.
“Good,” she said, trying to ignore the accelerated beat of her heart. “Then you won’t mind if we go inside now. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s cold.”
He didn’t move. “I owe you an apology, Honor.”
For a second, she wondered whether or not she’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”
“Do you really want me to say it again?”
“Actually, yes. I think you should.”
The corner of his long mouth turned up, the hint of a smile softening the brutally handsome cast of his features. “You like to push the boundaries, don’t you, sweetheart? I’m apologizing. For my behavior yesterday. I was out of line.”
Honor tried not to let her shock show. She didn’t think Gabriel Woolf was a man who apologized a lot. Or even at all. “Well, thank you. And yes, you were.”
Another opaque sweep of those dark eyes. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
She gave him a wary look, not quite sure how to take this apparently penitent, sincere side of him. “How?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go for a ride with me. Shake out the cobwebs a little. Leave business behind for an hour or so.”
“A ride? On what?”
“What do you think? I have a bike.”
“You’re kidding.”
The opaque look faded, a glint of wickedness in the depths of his eyes that should not have been as seductive as it was. “What’s the matter? You don’t like my bike?”
It wasn’t so much the bike—though riding on the back of that huge black machine seemed a little insane—as the thought of wrapping her arms around him, of her legs on either side of his, that fantasy she’d had in the cottage the day before. Such temptation …
“I have no feelings about your bike either way,” Honor said, staunchly ignoring the vision in her head. “But it’s cold and I don’t have the appropriate clothing.”
“And if you were to have appropriate clothing?”
“It’s a moot point since I don’t.”
Gabriel glanced through the trees toward the main building of the hotel. “Okay,” he said in a neutral voice. “Your loss.” Without another word he turned and began striding back along the snowy path to the hotel.
Honor stared after him. What? Gabriel Woolf accepting a refusal? Without even trying to get her to change her mind? Irritated with the strange discomfort that sat in her gut, Honor began walking up the path after his tall figure.
First an apology and then the offer of going out with him. Odd. Didn’t seem like his usual modus operandi. Up until now, he’d been blunt to the point of offensiveness about what he wanted and he certainly hadn’t liked her refusing him.
A man who got his way. That was Gabriel.
So why had he accepted her refusal without a word? More to the point, why did she care? She didn’t want to go for a ride on his big black bike. Not at all.
Perhaps he didn’t really want you to go after all?
But then why would he have asked in the first place?
Honor frowned and
He was a client. And that was all.
Footsteps sounded and she looked up as Gabriel came toward her, stalking across the snowy ground like a panther, his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, heavy black boots making crunching sounds in the snow.
She straightened. Already she could feel herself tensing up in response to his nearness, which was irritating in the extreme. “I hope you left poor Lindsay alive. I don’t think he was expecting to be grilled quite so intensely.”
Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “He’s still breathing. You have a problem with me asking questions?”
“No, but we don’t often have investors who want to know every single detail.”
“Details are important. Especially where money is concerned. And most especially when it’s my money.”
“Fair enough. You have more you want to see?”
“Not today.” The winter sunlight gilded his hair in stark contrast to the darkness of his eyes as they swept over her, assessing.
“Good,” she said, trying to ignore the accelerated beat of her heart. “Then you won’t mind if we go inside now. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s cold.”
He didn’t move. “I owe you an apology, Honor.”
For a second, she wondered whether or not she’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”
“Do you really want me to say it again?”
“Actually, yes. I think you should.”
The corner of his long mouth turned up, the hint of a smile softening the brutally handsome cast of his features. “You like to push the boundaries, don’t you, sweetheart? I’m apologizing. For my behavior yesterday. I was out of line.”
Honor tried not to let her shock show. She didn’t think Gabriel Woolf was a man who apologized a lot. Or even at all. “Well, thank you. And yes, you were.”
Another opaque sweep of those dark eyes. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
She gave him a wary look, not quite sure how to take this apparently penitent, sincere side of him. “How?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go for a ride with me. Shake out the cobwebs a little. Leave business behind for an hour or so.”
“A ride? On what?”
“What do you think? I have a bike.”
“You’re kidding.”
The opaque look faded, a glint of wickedness in the depths of his eyes that should not have been as seductive as it was. “What’s the matter? You don’t like my bike?”
It wasn’t so much the bike—though riding on the back of that huge black machine seemed a little insane—as the thought of wrapping her arms around him, of her legs on either side of his, that fantasy she’d had in the cottage the day before. Such temptation …
“I have no feelings about your bike either way,” Honor said, staunchly ignoring the vision in her head. “But it’s cold and I don’t have the appropriate clothing.”
“And if you were to have appropriate clothing?”
“It’s a moot point since I don’t.”
Gabriel glanced through the trees toward the main building of the hotel. “Okay,” he said in a neutral voice. “Your loss.” Without another word he turned and began striding back along the snowy path to the hotel.
Honor stared after him. What? Gabriel Woolf accepting a refusal? Without even trying to get her to change her mind? Irritated with the strange discomfort that sat in her gut, Honor began walking up the path after his tall figure.
First an apology and then the offer of going out with him. Odd. Didn’t seem like his usual modus operandi. Up until now, he’d been blunt to the point of offensiveness about what he wanted and he certainly hadn’t liked her refusing him.
A man who got his way. That was Gabriel.
So why had he accepted her refusal without a word? More to the point, why did she care? She didn’t want to go for a ride on his big black bike. Not at all.
Perhaps he didn’t really want you to go after all?
But then why would he have asked in the first place?
Honor frowned and
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