not sure what you can do, but I know my father. If he wasn’t so unwell he would probably have run it by you first, to see if there’s anything we can do to avoid losing the major sharehold.’
His eyes were still locked on hers, unblinking almost, which unsettled Gabby more than she wanted it to.
‘Do you know who is behind the takeover?’ he asked.
She shook her head and allowed a tiny sigh to escape. ‘I’ve asked around, but no one seems to know anything about the company that’s behind it.’
‘How much is the margin call?’
Gabby took an uneven breath, her stomach feeling as if a nest of hungry bull ants were eating their way out. ‘Two point four million dollars.’
His dark brows lifted a fraction. ‘Not exactly an amount you would have sitting around in petty cash,’ he commented wryly.
‘It’s not an amount that is sitting anywhere in any of the St Clair accounts,’ she said, running her tongue over her lips again, as if to wipe away the residue of panic that seemed to have permanently settled there. ‘I’m sure my father never expected anything like this to happen—or at least not before we had time to recoup on the investment. The markets have been unstable for several months now. We wouldn’t be the first to have redeveloped at the wrong time.’
‘True.’
Gabby shifted in her chair again. ‘So…I was wondering what you suggest we do…’ She sucked in a tiny breath, her heart thumping so loudly she could feel a roaring in her ears. ‘I…I know it’s a bit of an imposition, but my father respects your judgment. That’s basically why I am here.’
Vinn gave a deep and utterly masculine rumble of laughter. ‘Yes, well, I can’t imagine you pressing for an audience with me to share your observations on the day’s weather,’ he said. And then, with a little sneering quirk of his mouth, he added, ‘You have five minutes left, by the way.’
Gabby pursed her lips as she fought her temper down. ‘I think you know what I’m asking you to do,’ she said tightly. ‘Don’t make me spell it out just to bolster your already monumental ego.’
A flicker of heat made his eyes look like the centre of a flame as he leaned forward across the desk. ‘You want me to pay off the loan, is that it?’ he said, searing her gaze with his.
‘My father has done a lot for you—’ she launched into the speech she had hastily prepared in the middle of the night ‘—he paid bail for that stolen car charge you were on when you were eighteen, not long after you came to live with us. And he gave you your very first loan for university. You wouldn’t be where you are today without his mentorship and his belief in you.’
He leaned back in his chair, his demeanour casual as you please. He picked up his pen again, but this time rolled it between two of his long fingers. ‘Two point four million dollars is a lot of money, Gabriella,’ he said. ‘If I were to hand over such an amount I would want something in return. Something I could depend on to cover my losses if things were to take a sudden downturn.’
Gabby felt a prickle of alarm lift the surface of her skin. ‘You mean like a guarantee or something?’ she asked. ‘W-we can have something drawn up with the lawyers. A repayment plan over…say five years, with fixed interest. How does that sound?’
He gave a smile that wasn’t reflected in those unreadable eyes of his. ‘It sounds risky,’ he said. ‘I would want a better guarantee than something written on paper.’
She looked at him in confusion. ‘I’m not sure what you mean… Are you asking for more collateral? There’s the house but Mum and Dad will need somewhere to—’
‘I don’t want their house,’ he said, his eyes still burning like fire into hers.
Gabby ran her tongue over her lips again, her stomach doing another nervous shuffling movement. ‘Then…then what do you want?’ she asked, annoyed with herself at how whispery and frightened her voice sounded.
The silence became charged with something she couldn’t quite identify. The air was thick—so thick she could scarcely breathe without feeling as if her chest was being pressed down with a weight far too heavy for her finely boned ribcage. Apprehension slowly but stealthily crept up her spine, with tiptoeing, ice-cold steps, disturbing each and every fine hair on the back of her neck.
Vinn’s eyes were fathomless pools of murky shadows as they held onto hers. ‘How do you feel about stepping up to the plate as guarantor?’ he asked.
Gabby frowned. ‘I don’t have anything like that amount at my disposal,’ she said, her heart starting to race. ‘I have a small income I draw from the company for my immediate needs, but nothing that would cover that amount at short notice.’
He tilted one of his dark brows ironically. ‘So I take it your late husband didn’t leave you in the manner to which you have been accustomed for all of your silver-spooned life?’ he said.
Gabby lowered her gaze and looked at her knotted hands rather than see the I-told-you-so gleam in his eyes. ‘Tristan’s finances were in a bit of a mess when he died so suddenly. There were debts and…so many things to see to…’ And so many secrets to keep, she thought grimly.
A three-beat pause passed.
‘I will give you the money,’ Vinn said at last. ‘I can have it in your father’s business account with a few clicks of my computer mouse. Your little problem will be solved before you catch the lift down to the ground floor of this building.’
Gabby could sense a ‘but’ coming, and waited with bated breath for him to deliver it. She knew him too well to expect him to hand over that amount of money without some sort of condition on the deal. Sure, he admired and respected her father, he even tolerated her mother to some degree, but he had every reason to hate Gabby, and she couldn’t imagine him missing a golden opportunity like this to demonstrate how deep his loathing of her ran.
‘But of course there will be some conditions on the deal,’ he inserted into the silence.
Gabby felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the determined glint in his gaze. ‘W-what sort of conditions?’ she asked.
‘I am surprised you haven’t already guessed,’ he remarked, with an inscrutable smile playing with the sensual line of his mouth, giving him a devilishly ruthless look.
Gabby felt another shiver of apprehension pass through her. ‘I—I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said, her nails scoring into her palms as she tightened her fists in her lap.
‘Ah, but I think you do,’ he said. ‘Remember the night before your wedding?’
She forced herself to hold his gaze, even though she could feel a bloom of guilty colour staining her cheeks. The memory was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. God knew she had relived that brief, fiery exchange so many times during her train wreck of a marriage, wondering how different her life might have been if she had heeded Vinn’s warning…
The wedding rehearsal had been going ahead, in spite of Tristan calling at the last minute to say he had been held up in a meeting and might not make it after all, and Vinn had arrived at the church bleary-eyed and unshaven from an international flight, after spending the last
