Heartless Rebel (4 page)

 
          
Dream on, Cara
.

 
          
It
was impossible and she knew it, but she couldn’t help holding out a small hope
everything would work out. If not, then she’d head home and start again.
Starting over was nothing new for her. She’d find a way to make it work.

 
          
The
door opened and her head snapped up. She expected Bobby—and she was ready to
try and make him see reason—but the man who entered made her stomach drop to
her toes. She shot to her feet, her heart thudding.

 
          
“What
are you doing here? Get out before Bobby finds you!”

 
          
She
felt Jack’s gaze on her skin like a hot brand. His jaw hardened as he took in
the welt on her cheek, the blood on her lip.

 
          
“I’m
not afraid of Bobby Gold. Is he the one who hit you?”

 
          
Damn
the man! He was going to ruin everything. All she needed was for Bobby to find
her with a professional card shark—then he’d never believe she’d simply been
doing her job honestly.

 
          
“I
don’t care if you’re afraid of him or not! I can handle myself, and I want you
gone before he finds you here!”

 
          
“Did
he hit you?” Jack demanded.

 
          
Angry
heat flowed through her. He simply didn’t get it. “That’s none of your
business. Now go away.”

 
          
“I
can’t do that, Cara,” he said, his expression darker and more ruthless than any
she’d ever seen on Bobby’s face. It made her shiver and she took a step back
instinctively. “Just go, Jack. I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine.”

 
          
“I
hardly think so—”

 
          
The
door opened again, and Cara’s heart sank. Two of Bobby’s hired goons hulked
into the room, followed by the man himself. If Bobby was surprised to find Jack
Wolfe, he didn’t show it. In fact, he seemed pleased.

 
          
“Well,
well,” he said. “If it isn’t Jack Wolfe. You must like our little Cara, hmm?”
He reached out and ran a finger down her bare arm. Cara flinched. “She is quite
lovely. I can understand why you’d be tempted.”

 
          
“You’re
nothing but scum, Bobby,” Jack said. “No matter how hard you try, you’ll never
be anything more.”

 
          
Bobby’s
expression grew positively evil. “I’m sad to say you won’t be leaving here with
my fifteen million in hand,” he said. “It’s really too bad you had to cheat.
Met the lovely Cara and bribed her to cooperate, did you?”

 
          
“Bobby,
that’s not true!” Cara exclaimed. “I never saw him before tonight—”

 
          
Bobby’s
hand shot out and twisted in her hair. “Shut up,” he growled before he slapped
her again. The blow stung, but he hadn’t cut her this time.

 
          
Tears
sprang to her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She wouldn’t give him the
satisfaction.

 
          
Bobby
shoved her down on the chair. Her hair covered her face and she dragged it
back. But not before she heard a scuffle and a punch.

 
          
When
she could see again, the two bodyguards were holding Jack between them as he
jerked hard against them. Blood dripped from one of the guard’s noses and
Jack’s knuckles were scraped.

 
          
“You
will regret this, Gold,” he growled.

 
          
“No,”
Bobby said, his voice full of menace, “you will.”

 
          
Jack
sucked in a torturous breath. His rib cage felt like an elephant had sat on it.
He wanted to open his eyes, but it hurt to do so. Where was he? He didn’t
remember anything beyond the moment when Bobby’s thugs had started to beat him.
He’d fought back, but two against one were never good odds.

 
          
He
was in a vehicle now, moving. He had to open his eyes, in spite of the pain,
and see if he could figure out where they were going.

 
          
It
was dark, but he could see the road in front of them and a flash of silver hood
in the streetlights. He was sitting in the passenger seat, and the dashboard
looked vaguely familiar. The throaty purr of the engine was familiar, as well.

 
          
He
turned his head on the seat back. Cara

 
          
Taylor’s
profile was the first thing he saw. She looked determined. His gaze followed
her arms until he realized her hands were on a steering wheel. She was driving.
They were driving. Somewhere. “How …?” he asked.

 
          
Her
head whipped sideways, back to the road again. “I told you to leave when you had
the chance,” she said from between clenched teeth. “I could have fixed it. None
of this would have happened.”

 
          
His
laugh was rusty. God, he felt like he’d gotten into a fight with a freight
train. “You weren’t fixing anything, sweetheart. You cost Gold a lot of money.”

 
          
It
hadn’t taken him more than a few moments to realize why she’d been pulled from
the game, or why Red Tie had been glaring at her. He was Bobby’s ringer, and
she had been supposed to make sure he won the pot. That he hadn’t figured the
truth out sooner, he blamed solely on himself. Perhaps he was as arrogant as
the count in his own way. He’d let himself be distracted by lascivious thoughts
of Cara. Yes, he’d concentrated on the cards and the reactions of the players,
but hadn’t let his mind cast wider. If he had, he’d have understood the tension
between her and Red Tie sooner.

 
          
She
glanced at him again. “What makes you think that?”

 
          
“Because
I know Bobby Gold.”

 
          
“I
figured that,” she spat. “You could hardly do what you do without winding up in
his casinos from time to time.”

 
          
Jack
shifted, stifling a groan at the sharp pain in his side. “And what is it you
think I do?”

 
          
She
snorted. “You’re a gambler, Jack.”

 
          
He
would have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so damn much. “How did you get us out of
there?”

 
          
“Once
they knocked you unconscious, Bobby left, but he promised they’d be coming back
to finish the job, which I didn’t think sounded like an option I wanted to
stick around for.”

 
          
“We’re
in my car,” he said. He recognized the smell, the growl of the engine, the feel
of the leather hugging his body.

 
          
“I
got it from the valet. One of the waiters helped me get you out and put you in
the car. I said you were drunk and that I had to drive you home.”

 
          
He
had to hand it to her for thinking of it. Because if they’d stayed in that
room, he wasn’t too sure that Bobby wouldn’t have done a bit more permanent
damage.

 
          
“And
where are we going now?”

 
          
“I
need to get you to a hospital. But first I thought it best we get out of Nice.
Bobby knows people.”

 
          
“I
know people, too.” Hell, he had his own security firm. One call to them, and
Bobby Gold would be singing soprano for the next month.

 
          
“As
soon as we get to the next town, we’ll find a doctor.”

 
          
Jack
winced again. “I don’t need a doctor. My ribs are bruised, not broken.”

 
          
“How
do you know that?”

 
          
“Trust
me. I’ve seen enough injuries to know what is what.” Thanks to his father. He’d
rarely received the brunt of William’s anger, because he could sense when his
father was about to explode like a powder keg, but he’d seen the results of his
siblings’ beatings enough to know which injuries required a visit to the
hospital.

 
          
“Fine,
you don’t have broken ribs. But you could have a concussion.”

 
          
“Doubt
it. But if I do, the cure for that is painkillers and rest.”

 
          
Cara
let out a long-suffering sigh. “Is there anything you don’t know, Jack Wolfe?”

 
          
“I’m
sure there are one or two things.”

 
          
She
didn’t laugh. “If you’d just stayed out of it! I could have talked Bobby into
forgiving me, could have kept my job and made everything right again.”

 
          
“You
are incredibly naive, Cara. You cost the man fifteen million euros. Do you
really believe he would forget that?”

 
          
Her
fingers tightened on the wheel. “Once I explained—”

 
          
“Explained
what? That you aren’t a cheat?”

 
          
“Yes,”
she said tightly. “Because I’m not. It’s no good now, though, because he
believes I planned this with you. Especially since I’ve helped you get away.”

 
          
“Why
were you working for a man like Gold, anyway?”

 
          
She
snorted. “Are you telling me that I should have been a card shark instead?”

 
          
“Not
at all. But you have a talent for numbers, Cara. Surely there are other things
you could do.”

 
          
“Like
what?”

 
          
“You
could find a job in finance—”

 
          
“I
don’t have a college degree. Besides, who are you to talk? Why did you decide
to become a gambler?”

 
          
He
figured he should disabuse her of the notion—but it was far too much fun to let
her think he was a professional gambler. He was accustomed to women fawning
over him for his money, his family name and his face. To have one angry with
him because she believed he was an unscrupulous gambler? It was novel.

 
          
“Because
I like taking chances.” It was true enough. He got a rush out of playing
stocks. Sometimes he didn’t sleep for days as he moved between the international
markets. Making money was easy. It made sense, unlike everything else in his
life. He could control money. He couldn’t control the things that had happened
to him, or the emotional scars his family bore.

 
          
“Well,
I don’t,” she said. “I liked dealing cards. There’s no risk in it for me.”

 
          
“Apparently,
there is.”

 
          
Her
jaw tightened. “Tonight was a first.”

 
          
“It
would not have been the last, should you have complied.”

 
          
She
glanced at the gauges. “We’re going to need gas soon and I don’t have any
money.”

 
          
So
she didn’t want to admit she’d been in over her head. Fine. “I’ll take care of
it.”

 
          
She
was silent for a few moments. “Were you playing for someone tonight?”

 
          
“No.”

 
          
“Then
you lost a lot of money by coming to look for me. You must regret that
impulse.”

 
          
“It’s
only money.”

 
          
She
laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous sound. “Of course. Because there’s no one
depending on you for the food on their table or the roof over their head, I
suppose.”