Heartless Rebel (8 page)

 
          
Perversely,
her eyes filled with tears. Angry tears, tears of frustration. She’d been
worried about asking for cash, and he’d preempted her. She wanted to tell him
to keep his damn money, and yet she couldn’t. Without it, she’d be standing on
a Lyon street by nightfall, singing
a
cappella
and hoping she could earn enough coins to eat dinner.

 
          
“Thank
you,” she said instead, shame a living creature inside her belly. It roiled and
twisted until she wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and heave into the
toilet.

 
          
“Take
care of yourself, Cara.” He watched her for a long moment, as if he wanted to
say something else—or maybe he was waiting for her to say something—before he
turned and walked out the door. He didn’t walk with the fluid grace that he had
when she’d first seen him, but he still moved like a man in control of his life
and destiny.

 
          
She
heard the roar of the engine start after what seemed like forever. And then the
tires were squealing out of the parking lot and she was alone.

 
          
Cara
let out the breath she’d been holding. He’d left her. Oddly, it hurt that he
had. But she’d
told
him to go! Cara
pressed her fingers to her temples and sucked in a sharp breath. What was wrong
with her? She’d wanted him gone, wanted to be on her own again so she could
think and plan and breathe without Jack Wolfe taking up all the oxygen in the
room.

 
          
She
clutched the bills in her hand, only now realizing that she’d not gotten his
address or phone number so she could pay him back. He’d given her five hundred
euros, and now she felt as if she’d opened his wallet and taken them herself.
Because she had no way to ever repay him.

 
          
But is that really the problem, Cara?

 
          
It
wasn’t, and she knew it. She could track him down again, no matter how
difficult the task. But the real problem was that Jack Wolfe had sparked
something inside her, something she’d never quite felt before. She didn’t know
why that was—he was too arrogant, too entitled, too much of a good-time guy who
worked the casino racket and made a living off the cards. He wasn’t the kind of
man she liked at all.

 
          
But
the physical attraction to him had been off the charts. As if that were a
reason to feel so forlorn that she’d never see him again.

 
          
Cara
took one last look at the room. It was time to go, time to get a taxi to the
train station. She didn’t have the luxury to remember Jack’s nude body, his raw
male beauty and power. She only need step through the door and close it behind
her and Jack Wolfe would be a memory.

 
          
Resolutely,
she did just that. The hotel reminded her a bit of one of those cheap chain
motels in the States, an industrial box of a building close to the autoroute.
She looked at the traffic moving on the highway and imagined Jack was several
miles away by now. He wasn’t thinking of her anymore. He was thinking of home
and how long it would take him to get there.

 
          
She
hoped he would be okay, that he wouldn’t push himself too hard when he was
still recovering. Maybe she should have gone along with him, if only to drive
him to his destination. What would another day or two matter? Perhaps Bobby’s
temper would have cooled even more by then.

 
          
Cara
walked toward the front office. Jack was gone and that was the end of it. She
would ask the desk clerk to call a taxi for her and then she, too, would be on
her way.

 
          
Before
she reached the office, however, a familiar engine revved and she turned as
Jack whipped into the parking lot and stopped beside her. Ridiculously, her
heart leaped into her throat. Why was she so happy to see him?

 
          
“I
have an idea,” he said, that delightful accent rolling over her, making her
shiver.

 
          
“I’m
listening,” she replied, keeping her voice as cool as possible in spite of her
pounding pulse.

 
          
“I
have to go to a wedding in a couple of days and I need a date.” Cara frowned.
“You want me to be your date?”

 
          
“I’ll
pay you. And I’ll make sure you get your passport and bank cards back.”

 
          
She
was conscious of the cash he’d given her burning a hole in her pocket. “But why
would you want to pay me to go to a wedding with you?”

 
          
He
raked a hand through his dark hair. He looked tousled, sexy, and she found
herself wanting to repeat the motion with her own fingers. No way on earth did
this man need to pay for a date.

 
          
“You
need a job, I need a date. Seems the perfect solution.”

 
          
She
stiffened as her throat felt suddenly tight with emotion. He thought she was
the kind of woman who needed money so badly that she would do anything to get
it. “I’m sure you know plenty of willing partners who don’t need to be paid.”

 
          
She
felt cheap, dirty, disappointed in a way she hadn’t when he’d given her the
five hundred euros to get home. Now he was offering to pay her, as if she were
a professional escort. It hurt.

 
          
She
took the money from her pocket and thrust it at him. “I’m not for sale, Jack. I
told you that before.”

 
          
Jack
groaned. “Cara, for God’s sake, I’m trying to help you. Whatever bonus Bobby
was planning to give you, I’ll double it.”

 
          
“How
can you say that? You have no idea how much—”

 
          
“So
tell me.”

 
          
“Twenty-five
thousand,” she ground out, certain he would laugh in her face at the sum.

 
          
He
shrugged. “Fine, we’ll make it fifty, then. What do you say?”

 
          
Cara’s
lungs refused to work. He couldn’t be serious. And yet—

 
          
My
God, she’d be able to take care of
everything
,
be able to pay off the remaining debt on the house, pay the insurance premiums
and make sure that Mama never had to worry again. Remy could get the extra
therapy he needed without Mama sacrificing so much to do it. Evie could have a
normal life.

 
          
Did
it really matter if her pride stung or if it made her feel cheap that Jack had
offered to pay her to be his date? She’d been willing to throw a card game for
money, even if she hadn’t actually done so, so why couldn’t she be Jack’s date?

 
          
It
was much less onerous than cheating, after all. But still …

 
          
“Don’t
be stupid, Cara,” Jack said. “This is a far better deal than working for Bobby
Gold.”

 
          
Oh,
God, was she really thinking about it? She was. The fact her feet were glued to
the spot and she hadn’t yet spun on her heel and walked away told her she was.

 
          
But
it was more than the money. So much more.

 
          
She
hadn’t spent much time with Jack, but she’d spent enough to know that she was
wildly attracted to him. More than that, she could trust him to deliver on his
promise. He wouldn’t leave her in the lurch the way James had. He’d live up to
his end of the bargain.

 
          
All
she had to do was go to a wedding. How hard was that?

 
          
She
had
to do it, regardless of the
pinprick to her feelings.

 
          
“I
know you don’t think so,” Jack continued, “but I’m not convinced Bobby won’t
hurt you if you go back. He’s a small man, Cara, and he holds grudges. You
crossed him—”

 
          
“Yes,”
she blurted before she could talk herself out of it.

 
          
Jack
blinked. “You’ll do it?”

 
          
Oh, God
.

 
          
“Yes,
I’ll be your date.” She went around and climbed into the passenger seat of the
shiny silver beast. Her heart pounded with adrenaline and recklessness. “But
don’t you get any other ideas, Jack Wolfe,” she said once she was belted in.
“You’ve bought a date, not a bed partner.”

 
          
Jack
caught her hand and lifted it to his lips.

 
          
The
touch of his mouth against the tender inside skin of her wrist sent a shiver
prickling over her. “I know that. Because when you
do
come to my bed, it won’t be because I’ve paid you to do so.”

 
          
“Someone
needs to prove to you that you aren’t irresistible,” she forced out, though her
body was already beginning to sing from that single touch. Belatedly, as if
just remembering, she yanked her hand from his grip.

 
          
“Maybe,”
he said with a grin. “But I’m hoping it’s not you.”

 
          
The
kilometers ticked by in silence. Jack glanced over at Cara on occasion, but she
seemed as lost in thought as he was. He’d been about to make the turn onto the
autoroute when he’d realized he had to go back for her. She was stubborn and
determined to be independent, and though he understood that, he couldn’t allow
her to return to Nice. Because there was no doubt in his mind that Bobby Gold
would hurt her.

 
          
He
didn’t know Cara Taylor’s story, but he wanted to. And, selfishly, he wanted to
avoid any confrontations with Jacob or Lucas at Nathaniel’s wedding. He’d
almost decided not to go to the wedding, simply to avoid the unpleasantness of
any conversations with his two older brothers, but it would hurt Nathaniel if
he didn’t show up. Having Cara with him seemed a perfect solution. With a
beautiful woman by his side, his brothers wouldn’t dare try and talk to him
about things he had no interest in discussing.

 
          
What
was there left to say?

 
          
He
was still angry, still bitter. He knew it.

 
          
Jack’s
fingers tightened on the wheel. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to think
about those dark years when everything had fallen apart. He’d once been so
close to his older brothers, especially Jacob … and now there was nothing.
Nothing but an empty void.

 
          
“Do
you want me to drive?”

 
          
Jack
glanced at Cara. Her long dark hair had dried in a tousled mess of spiral
curls. It made her look so sexy and touchable when combined with the low-cut
shirt and tight satin mini. He wanted to pull the car over to the side of the
road and tug her onto his lap. Golden-green eyes gazed back at him coolly—but
there was a hint of fire she couldn’t quite hide. It gratified him, buoyed him.
This attraction between them was mutual—and he knew they would act on it soon
enough, even if she didn’t. It was inevitable.

 
          
“I’ve
got it for now,” he said.

 
          
“You
seem tense. I thought maybe your ribs were hurting.”

 
          
Jack
rolled his shoulders. He was tense, but not because he hurt. “They hurt, yes,
but not too badly I can’t drive awhile longer.”

 
          
“Just
let me know when you need me to take over, okay?”

 
          
“We
won’t go much farther. I have an apartment in Paris. We’ll stop there for the
night. Besides, we need to go shopping.”

 
          
She
folded her arms over her breasts in a self-conscious gesture. He wondered what
had happened to the bow tie. She seemed to have lost it somewhere along the
way.