Heartless Rebel (14 page)

 
          
“Wow,
eight of you, then.” Jacob. That was the brother who’d accidentally killed
their father. As soon as he’d said the name, she’d remembered reading it. Her
heart squeezed for the man sitting across from her. He was so stoic, so
controlled.

 
          
She
wanted to hug him, but knew he wouldn’t welcome the contact.

 
          
He
gave a curt nod. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Clear he’d
already said more than he wanted to say. And she had no wish to keep probing
his wounds.
Oh, Jack …

 
          
“Is
there anything else I should know?”

 
          
“That
about sums it up,” he said dispassionately, as if they were talking about the weather
or game scores. “Except for Annabelle. Her face is scarred, though she hides it
quite well. You probably won’t even notice, but in case you do …”

 
          
Cara
drew herself up. “I would never be so crass as to ask her what happened!”

 
          
He
sighed. “Of course not. Forgive me.”

 
          
The
bubble of her indignation popped. He was under a lot of stress, and she should
have let it go without comment. “No, I should apologize. I’m sorry for
snapping. For all you know about me, I might just be that rude. But I’m not, you
can rest assured.”

 
          
He
nodded once, and then they lapsed into silence again. The closer they got to
their destination, the more withdrawn Jack became. Cara could feel the tension
in the air like a huge coil spring being compressed tighter and tighter and
tighter. It was as if the miles piled up on his shoulders, their weight
pressing him deeper and deeper into the ground.

 
          
She
wished she could remember more of the details about his family, but she’d
hardly paid attention to the fuss. It was all very recent, she remembered, but
she’d been so busy working and then coming to Nice to open the new casino. She
barely had time to check her email, much less read celebrity gossip rags.

 
          
By
the time they arrived in London—after their plane was delayed in the air because
of a problem on the ground—Cara was worried that Jack really would come
unsprung. She wouldn’t have called him a carefree person by any stretch, but
his demeanor now, compared with yesterday, was night and day. This Jack was
dark, closed in, and she ached for him. Wanted so desperately to reach out to
him.

 
          
And
yet there was nothing she could do. Whatever demons awaited him, she could only
go along for the ride. She would not abandon him now, not when he might need a
friend.

 
          
After
they emerged from the private airport they’d flown into, a limo was waiting to
take them to the Grand Wolfe Hotel. Cara was no longer surprised at anything
she learned about Jack and his family. Finding out he had a brother rich enough
to own a hotel in central London was par for the course these days. Just like
finding out that Jack was rich enough to own a plane.

 
          
Cara
shook her head. She’d been so wrong about him it was laughable. She’d always
prided herself on reading people, especially as she worked the casinos, but
Jack Wolfe was not as he first appeared. He had the sharp eye and fearless
demeanor of a professional gambler, and yet he was so much more than a card
shark.

 
          
After
the delayed flight, they got caught in heavy traffic on the ride to the hotel.
Jack didn’t seem to notice. He stared out the window, his expression distant.
More than once, she almost suggested they go back to the airport and return to
Paris. He’d been happy there; they’d been happy together.

 
          
Now,
he was so remote. A complete stranger to her. It felt … odd.

 
          
Tentatively,
she reached for his hand where it rested on his thigh. Just to show him she
understood, that she was here. Her skin sizzled, as always, when her body made
contact with his. He turned his hand over, opening it, and then their palms
were touching, fingers entwining. It wasn’t much, just a simple contact between
two people who barely knew each other.

 
          
And
yet it felt like everything, like their souls entwined with their fingers. Cara
turned her head away, the cars and sidewalks of London blurring as she blinked
back tears. She would not cry over something as simple as a touch. She would
not allow it to mean more than it did.

 
          
It
was touch. Warmth, companionship, light. Cara squeezed his hand gently. She
didn’t expect acknowledgment, didn’t expect anything from him. But when he
squeezed back, she knew she’d gotten through his shield, if only a tiny bit. It
was a start.

 
          
Jack
glanced at his watch as they arrived at the Grande Wolfe. He’d feared they
would be late the instant they’d gotten delayed in the air. He’d planned his
arrival to leave no time for socializing with his family. He’d made allowances
for traffic, of course, but he’d not counted on the plane being late.

 
          
But
he was here now and he had to get this over with. Had to go next door to the
church for the ceremony, had to smile, had to be happy for Nathaniel—which he
genuinely was—and had to hope Jacob avoided him. The last thing he needed was a
confrontation with his brother.

 
          
Everyone
else seemed glad—or at least resigned—that Jacob was back, glad that he’d
returned to restore the broken-down manor where they’d grown up. But Jack
couldn’t care less about Wolfe Manor. Let it be torn down, let the past stay
buried where it belonged.

 
          
Jacob
hadn’t cared about the place when he’d left them so many years ago, so why now?
It was a ruse, quite simply, because Jacob didn’t have staying power. Let the
rest of them fall for Jacob’s act, but Jack was not about to do so. If someone
burned him once, they never got the chance to do so again.

 
          
Cara
emerged from the limo and smiled up at him, and his world felt as if it were
shifting somehow. It was the effect of what awaited him, he knew, and yet he
was glad she was here with him.

 
          
A
bellhop came to collect their luggage, and Jack took one last fortifying breath
before grasping Cara’s hand and walking next door to the church. The ceremony
had probably already started, but they could sneak into the back and watch from
there. Then they would escape with the first exodus and head for the hotel.

 
          
But
the church was empty, except for a few ladies cleaning up. Jack blinked at the
scene before him. A profusion of white roses decorated the pews and altar,
their scent almost cloying. He pivoted and led Cara back outside.

 
          
She
didn’t speak as they headed into the depths of the hotel. He found the ballroom
where the reception was being held easily enough, having stayed at Sebastian’s
hotel from time to time over the years, but the crowd was a bit lighter than he
would have expected.

 
          
The
room had been draped in white organza, and once more the scent of roses filled
the air. A few people danced to the elegant sounds of the band, but the tables
were only about half-full.

 
          
Jack
spotted Annabelle almost immediately. She had her camera out, taking photos.
She looked as coolly elegant as she always did. She glanced over, made eye
contact with him. And then she was making her way toward them, her camera held
like a shield in front of her body.

 
          
“You’re
late, Jack,” she said as she walked up. Her gaze flicked over his face, but he
knew she wouldn’t comment on the bruise beneath his eye.

 
          
He
gave her a brief hug. Annabelle didn’t like to be touched, really, but he
always felt so damn sorry for her that he wanted her to know he cared. She
returned the hug as well as she was able before stepping back into her own
space.

 
          
“There
was a problem at the airport,” he said. “Where are Nathanial and Katie?”

 
          
“They’ve
left for their honeymoon already. You missed everything.” Her voice was
remarkably devoid of censure, but that was Annabelle. Cool and collected to the
last.

 
          
Jack
wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He’d known the timing was
tight, but he hadn’t thought they would miss
everything
once they were delayed. He’d thought to see at least a bit
of the ceremony. Then a quick stop at the reception, and he’d be gone again
before too much time had passed. He’d intended to congratulate the happy
couple, to speak to Annabelle and Sebastian at least, and then to retire to his
suite for the night. He hadn’t wanted to insult Sebastian by refusing to stay
in the hotel overnight, but as soon as he was able, he was taking Cara to his
London home and leaving the Grand Wolfe behind.

 
          
He
introduced Cara to Annabelle. They exchanged pleasantries, and then Annabelle
said she needed to go and pack up her equipment.

 
          
“Did
everyone come?” he asked her.

 
          
If
she knew what he meant, she didn’t let on. “Everyone but Alex. Oh, and Rafael
came alone.”

 
          
Jack
shrugged. “Leila is probably working.”

 
          
“Perhaps.
But he didn’t seem very happy.”

 
          
They
talked for a few moments more, and then Annabelle was gone.

 
          
Cara
was biting her lip again. He knew she must be disappointed that they’d missed
the wedding as she worried that plump lower lip between her teeth. He wanted
her to stop, and he wanted to bite it for her. A shot of pure lust rocketed
through his body at the thought of doing just that. Maybe it was a good thing
they had a hotel room after all.

 
          
“I’m
sorry you missed meeting Nathaniel,” he said. Because he was certain, though
she’d not said anything, that she’d been looking forward to meeting his famous
brother. Who wouldn’t want to meet a movie star?

 
          
“I’m
not,” she said softly, her eyes more green than gold as she gazed up at him.
“But I am sorry you didn’t see your brother get married.”

 
          
Jack
shrugged it off. He’d wanted to be here for Nathaniel, but he had no one to
blame but himself. If he’d flown in earlier—or yesterday, like everyone
else—there’d have been no problem. “I’ll see him again soon enough. He’s far
more interested in his new wife than in his family, anyway. As it should be.”

 
          
“I’m
glad I got to meet your sister. She’s very pretty. And very serious.”

 
          
“She
wasn’t always so serious,” he said before he could stop himself.

 
          
If
Cara wondered at that statement, she didn’t allow her curiosity to show.

 
          
“So
now what?” she asked, her pretty mouth curving in a soft smile. God, he loved
her smiles. And he loved that she understood when he didn’t want to talk about
something. How could he tell her about the ugliness that had taken Annabelle’s
sweet innocence away forever?

 
          
Jack’s
eyes skimmed over her. The jeweled turquoise of her dress was magnificent. The
fabric hugged her curves, displayed her assets to perfection. She had long
legs, beautiful and toned, and he couldn’t help but imagine them wrapped around
him. He
wanted
them wrapped around
him in the worst way.

 
          
Now
that the tension of being here for the wedding was leaching away, a different
kind of tension was taking its place. He wanted this woman, wanted to sweep her
up and take her to the room where he would slowly reveal every inch of her
delightful body. And then he would make love to her for hours, exploring her,
learning her taste and texture, finding out what made her sigh with delight and
scream with pleasure.