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As if he couldn’t guess, Eva thought. Griffin had met Carter on a couple of occasions. Once at a casual social gathering at her parents’ house, and another during a chance encounter at an art gallery opening.
Both times, Griffin had been without a date, but Eva wasn’t fooled. She’d seen women come and go. Mostly go, since Griffin seemed disinclined to bestow his greatness on any one woman for too long.
Her chin lifted, her eyes locking with Griffin’s. Despite her father’s poor introduction, there was no reason she should be defensive—she was perfectly comfortable with her decision.
“Carter Newell,” she said emphatically.
Griffin strolled farther into the room. “So congratulations are in order.”
She noticed he didn’t say he was offering any, just that it was what politeness dictated—if he were being polite.
Griffin’s gaze swept over her, and despite being dressed appropriately enough in a vintage Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress, she felt as if she were on display.
Her blood pressure went up. This was par for the course in her interactions with Griffin. Their conversations always had a subtext that her father was oblivious to.
“Congratulate her, but send condolences my way,” her father grumbled.
Griffin’s eyes focused on her hand. “Where’s the ring?”
His words were such a perfect echo of Marcus Tremont’s, she ground her teeth. “You’re just like my father.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that!” her father said.
Her eyes stayed on Griffin’s, daring him to make some other comment.
Griffin’s lips quirked, almost as if he was ready to diffuse the challenge that hung in the air. “You look as if you’d like to lob hors d’oeuvres at me—or maybe spear me with a dessert fork.”
There it was again—an oblique, patronizing reference to her business, sailing straight over her father’s head. She should have known better than to believe for a second Griffin would back away from a challenge.
She smiled thinly. “Don’t tempt me.”
Turning to her father, she decided to change tactics. “You know, you should be happy,” she offered. “After all, the sooner I’m married, the sooner you might get the grandchild you keep referring to.”
To herself, she admitted the timing of her engagement to Carter might have the teeny, tiniest thing to do with the fact that she longed for a baby.
Though she’d dated through her twenties, the right man had never come along. Her mother had entered menopause prematurely, and she didn’t know how much time she herself had left. Of course, she’d taken a test, and while it indicated her egg supply wasn’t dire at the moment, she also knew waiting was a gamble with increasingly bad odds.
She’d told Carter about her issue with premature menopause, and he’d been enthusiastic about starting a family as soon as possible after the wedding.
“Anyone but Carter Newell,” her father shot back now.
She read Griffin’s silence as tacit agreement with that statement. Damn him.
Her father looked from Griffin back to her, his expression grumpier than ever. “If you two were at least friendly, I could have entertained the hope you’d marry each other.”
Eva sucked in a breath.
There it was, out in the open. Her father had finally given voice to what she’d always suspected he’d been thinking.
With a quick, sidelong glance, she noticed Griffin continued to look unruffled.
His reaction was so true to form, it was maddening.
She, on the other hand, was still waiting for the hot sting of embarrassment to recede from her face.
She opened her mouth.
“Marcus,” Griffin drawled before she could speak, “you know Eva is too—”
If he said frivolous, she swore she’d kick him in the shins.
“—hot-tempered for me.”
She clamped her mouth shut. How could she argue when she’d just been thinking of clobbering him?
Griffin’s eyes mocked her, as if he knew what she’d been contemplating.
She swung her attention back to her father.
She sometimes felt like just another prized possession in Marcus Tremont’s asset portfolio—and by marrying Carter Newell, she supposed her father wasn’t getting the return he’d banked on.
Still, she refused to weaken. “Mom and I will be checking out possible venues and going dress shopping.”
Her father’s eyebrows lowered. “Your mother knows about this already?”
She pasted on a sunny smile. “I suggested that’s what my plans were to her before I came in here, yes. But I decided to go beard the lion in his den by myself.”
Her father glowered.
“I hope to see you at the wedding—whether you can bring yourself to give me away or not.” The words were said flippantly, but a thread of emotion ran beneath them that she refused to analyze too closely.
She turned on her heel and, not sparing another glance at Griffin, strode out of her father’s library.
She was everything he desired, but in the wrong package.
Griffin watched Eva Tremont sashay out of the library, her clingy knit dress hugging every curve.
His lips twisted.
She was quite a package, and had been ever since he’d first laid eyes on her. She was equal parts headstrong heiress, savvy businesswoman and sexy single woman.
It was also clear she despised him. If he had to guess, he’d say it was because he reminded her of every way she fell short as Marcus Tremont’s heir.
That he’d more recently become CEO of Tremont REH was probably just rubbing salt in the wounds.
Still, his ties to Marcus Tremont and Tremont REH were also the reason Eva was off-limits to him, he reminded himself. He wasn’t the commitment type, and committed was the only type of relationship that would be acceptable with the boss’s daughter.
Of course, now that he remained on as CEO of Tremont REH more as a favor to Marcus than anything else, Eva wasn’t really the boss’s daughter any longer, but she remained related to someone he valued as a friend, a colleague and a mentor.
“That bastard Newell,” Marcus Tremont said, calling him back from his thoughts.
Griffin had met Carter Newell only a couple of times. But he’d been able to size the guy up as a smooth operator on the make.
When Carter had trumpeted his skills as a financial advisor, Griffin had listened detachedly, unimpressed by the guy’s salesmanship—not to mention that he was happy with his stockbroker and liked to keep an eye on the markets himself.
And yet, despite the sales pitch, he’d gotten the impression Carter didn’t like him much, judging by the sour expression that had flitted across the guy’s face from time to time.
Carter had obviously done some sizing up of his own and come to a conclusion he didn’t like: Griffin was Marcus Tremont’s anointed successor. His possible future father-in-law’s single, unattachesuccessor.
Without a doubt, Newell had put him down as a rival for control of the money spout, and possibly for Eva as well.
Evidently, though, Carter had been willing to put personal feelings aside where financial gain was concerned—namely, reeling in another client.
And that’s what bothered him, Griffin thought. Not just for himself, but for Eva. If Carter was willing to overlook a lot to score another client, how much would he be willing to do to acquire a rich wife?
Griffin watched as Marcus Tremont’s eyes met his. “Look into it for me.”
He tensed. “What are you asking?”
He had a good idea, but he didn’t want there to be any room for misunderstanding.
Marcus gestured dismissively. “I mean, find out what you can about Carter Newell. Get the investigator that we use for Tremont REH.” The older man’s look turned grim. “I want to know what Carter Newell is hiding before he becomes my son-in-law.”
Griffin lifted his eyebrows but was careful to keep his expression in place otherwise. “You have reason to believe he’s hiding something?”
Marcus regarded him steadily. “What I know about the Newells, I don’t like. They were able to hide their decline in wealth for a long time. Subterfuge is the family currency.”
“I see. Still, if Eva found out…”
He let the thought trail off. He just wanted to make sure the older man appreciated the possible consequences of his decision. Marcus might do irreparable damage to his relationship with his daughter if Eva discovered they’d had Carter investigated.
And as far as his own relationship with Eva went, well, that was bound to head further south.
“There’s no reason for Eva to know,” Marcus said brusquely, his eyes sharpening. “Unless of course, we pin something on Newell—in which case, it’ll be well worth the price to save her from that slick salesman.”
Griffin nodded.
The truth was he’d derive some pleasure in bringing down Carter Newell if the guy wasn’t on the up-and-up.
He pushed aside the thought that the cost to himself of having Carter investigated might be too high….
Two
Griffin stared out the window of his Pacific Heights mansion at the twinkling evening lights of San Francisco Bay. His grip on his wineglass constricted, putting dangerous pressure on the delicate crystal, as he thought back over the events of earlier that day.
Though he’d agreed to it, Marcus’s request had put him in a difficult position.
Over the years, he’d put his own selfish desires aside where Eva was concerned. Still, he’d fantasized about making love to her on numerous occasions—even though she irritated and perplexed him by turns.
She reminded him of a sleek, lithe cat. Everything was perfectly proportioned, and exercise kept her body limber and supple.
Her straight black hair hung in a curtain past her shoulders in a blunt cut. Her mouth was a little too large for her face, and her topaz eyes tilted upward at the corners. And yet, those elements added character instead of suggesting she fell short of ideal beauty.
Now he was being asked to dig up dirt on the man that she intended to marry—the man, his lips curled tightly, she fancied herself in love with.
But he couldn’t say no to Marcus Tremont’s request. Because, all else aside, Griffin found himself agreeing with Marcus’s instincts where Carter Newell was concerned.
Not to mention he owed Marcus a debt that couldn’t be repaid.
After his parents’ death in a private plane crash when he’d just gotten out of high school, he’d become guardian to his fifteen-year-old brother, Josh, and fourteen-year-old sister, Monica. He’d had to become an adult almost overnight and had become grimly determined to succeed on his own in the world.
Fortunately, though his parents had not left behind a lavish estate, it had been significant enough to allow him to send his younger siblings to boarding school and to further his own education.
After college and business school, he’d been given a break by Marcus, a business acquaintance of his father’s, in the form of a job with Tremont REH, where he could learn the ropes of the real estate business.
The business relationship had proven lucrative to them both. Griffin had soon discovered he had the Midas touch when it came to real estate deals. He’d eventually formed his own company, Evkit Investments, and become immensely wealthy through savvy management of his own ever-expanding real estate portfolio.
But loyalty to Marcus Tremont had kept him involved with Tremont REH. When Marcus had decided two years ago it was time to step back from the day-today management of Tremont REH, he’d asked Griffin to take over the reins as CEO. Marcus had insisted that, in his continuing position as chairman of the board, there was no one he trusted more at the helm of the company he’d spent a lifetime building.
The two companies had merged their office space when Griffin had become CEO of both. And since Evkit Investments and Tremont REH pursued different business interests, there’d been no issue of competition between the companies. By Griffin’s deliberate design, Evkit had acquired residential real estate rather than become a player in commercial office space.
Griffin wouldn’t betray Marcus by competing with Tremont REH.
He paused now, his mind turning back to Eva.
As much as he wanted her, he didn’t understand her. She exasperated him with her blithe lack of interest in Tremont REH. As a family member, she had a position on the company’s board of directors, but that was the extent of her involvement.
He, on the other hand, could appreciate firsthand what Marcus had built. He’d spent years creating a company to match—and by many measures, exceed—Tremont REH’s reputation. He’d also put time and effort toward growing Tremont REH, especially since he’d become CEO.
Griffin stared unseeingly at San Francisco’s lights.
Still, he couldn’t escape the fact that, against all reason, he remained attracted to Eva. When he was around her, he got an adrenaline rush—a heady sensation that had him feeling as if he were drunk on euphoria.
She challenged him, and he thrived on challenges.
He’d never acted on the attraction because he couldn’t sleep with Marcus Tremont’s daughter without there being…consequences. And Eva’s obvious dislike for him made it easy to walk the line.
He’d also already had enough commitment to last a lifetime. He certainly wasn’t looking to jump into another to, say, a wife.
He’d been committed to raising his younger siblings and committed to making sure they found their paths in the world.
It was only in the last couple of years, in fact, that he felt as if he could exhale. His brother, Josh, had finished his medical residency and become a surgeon in Denver, where he’d recently married his college sweetheart, Tessa.
Likewise, his sister, Monica, the head of a school for learning disabled children, had gotten married two years ago to a film producer, Ben Corrigan, and was settled in L.A. She was expecting her first child in five months.
He was proud of his siblings, and relieved they’d become well-adjusted adults who’d found their personal happiness.
His job was finally done.
