Free Mine To Take (Nine Circles) by Jackie Ashenden Page B

which hotel, sending him the details of the Vermont property in a terse and to-the-point e-mail. She hoped he’d respond in a like fashion but—predictably—he didn’t.
    A whole minute after pressing send her phone rang.
    “Mr. Woolf,” she said, not even bothering to check her caller ID. “You have an issue with the details I sent you?”
    “You got a problem with Mexico?”
    Honor swiveled her chair around to look out of the windows of her office, staring sightlessly across Midtown New York as Gabriel’s rough, heated voice brushed over her like velvet.
    In a building across the street, a man was making himself coffee. Honor concentrated on him, watching him through the windows so she didn’t feel the strange restlessness that gathered inside her as Gabriel spoke.
    “Mexico can’t accommodate us,” she lied. “Vermont is closer.”
    “Pity. I would have liked to see you in a bikini.”
    The man was pouring cream into his cup. Stirring. “I don’t have a bikini,” Honor replied. “Besides, a bikini is hardly appropriate work wear. This is business, Mr. Woolf. In case you’d forgotten.”
    “Oh, I hadn’t, little girl. When it comes to business, I never forget.”
    “Can we do without the patronizing endearments, please?”
    “I was going tell you that I’d stop it with the ‘little girl’ if you stop it with the ‘Mr. Woolf.’ But I’ve decided I like the ‘Mr. Woolf.’ So I tell you what, you pick one endearment and I’ll leave it at that.”
    The man across the street was now ladling in some sugar. It appeared he liked his coffee very sweet. Honor took a slow, silent breath. Arguing about names was ridiculous. Pointless. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She knew it was a game he was playing with her, a manipulation, and though every part of her told her it was a bad idea, she couldn’t seem to resist playing it, too.
    “I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “How about I stop calling you ‘Mr. Woolf’ and you can be ‘little boy’ instead?”
    He laughed, a soft, liquid sound that made her toes want to curl inside her expensive stilettos. “You want to play my game? Is that how this week is going to go? Because I gotta tell you, I’m not at all unhappy about that.”
    “I don’t play games, Mr. Woolf. I do business.”
    “I’m sure you do. In which case if it’s business you’re after, you’d better stop flirting with me.”
    No, she would not react. She would not let him get under her skin. “Time is money, and this conversation has already taken up more of both than I would like. Is there anything more you’d like to talk to me about?”
    “No, I think we’re done. The Vermont place looks good.” The heat had vanished from his voice, leaving it rough and cold. “I’ll get a chopper to take us.”
    “Thank you but I can make my own way.” Honor made sure her tone was the very essence of politeness. There was no way she was going to be reliant on him for her transportation to and from the hotel. Something told her she’d need to be able to get away in a hurry if she had to.
    “Yeah, okay,” he said.
    Honor blinked, nonplussed by his capitulation. “Fine. That’s settled then.”
    “You sound surprised. Did you want me to insist?”
    “No, of course not.”
    “You could ride with me instead.” There was the barest hint of amusement in his voice.
    “Ride? On what?” She didn’t even know why she was asking since she already knew she didn’t want to “ride” with him.
    “My bike. I’ve got plenty of room for you on the back.” Again with the amusement that got under her skin like a burr under a blanket.
    “Thank you, but I believe I’ll drive.”
    “Of course you will. In that case I’ll see you up there, sweetheart.” He didn’t wait for a response, hanging up almost immediately, leaving Honor feeling vaguely frustrated and annoyed.
    Of course you will. The arrogance implicit in that small sentence. As if he knew her. Knew everything