“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, unattache successor.
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