The Devil You Know (24 page)

what a ffigging nightmare. No thanks.

‘Jacob … you’re incredible.’

‘Thanks, sugar.’ He gave her a friendly pat on her ass, which was a touch too skinny. ‘You’re gorgeous.’

‘You think so?’ She blushed crimson with pleasure.

Rothstein propped himself up on his elbow. This was the rcky bit, but he was a master at it. How to make it clear to a girl that tl.ere was no future in it, but on the other hand, leave them with their slfrespect.

“

Jacob had nothing against Emily. She was a great luck. She was also a nice girl. Kind to animals, that sort of thing.

But she was as bland as tap-water, and he was a whisky-sour guy. Besides, Jacob believed every woman could be a great fuck. You just had to work them up the right way. He was an egotist, and loved watching women’s bodies leap and arch under his touch, loved feeling them writhe against his chest muscles, loved how they rippled around him when he made them convulse in helpless climax.

‘Sure. I’ve been watching you for months. I remember that blue dress you wore to the polo match in June …’

‘You noticed,’ Emily breathed. She pushed her floppy fringe out of her eyes.

‘Of course. I always notice a beautiful woman with an independent spirit.’ Jacob gave her a friendly smile. ‘I knew we’d get on great. I’d like to see you again, if you’re ever free. A gorgeous chick like you will get snapped up by some boyfriend soon …’

He could see by the sharp flash of annoyance in her brown eyes that she’d registered this.

‘Aren’t you gonna be my boyfriend?’ Emily asked, in a little-girl voice.

Jacob flinched inwardly. She wasn’t marriage material; he employed the double standard: he wanted a modest wife. And anyway, he hated women who pretended to be helpless. They were no challenge, not like …

No. He wasn’t going to think about her.

‘I’m no good to anybody as a boyfriend. I’m not really ready for a relationship, and I don’t want to cheat anybody … especially a girl who’s so pretty she can do better whenever she wants.’

‘I guess. When you put it that way,’ Emily said uncertainly.

Jacob rubbed her thighs. ‘Doesn’t mean we can’t see each other, though. If you want to of course.’

She felt a little of the heat returning. ‘Yeah, I’d like that …’

He heard the footsteps a fraction too late. His bedroom door was v.,ide open, and P,.ose Fiorello was standing in front of it.

‘Oh! Excuse me,’ l

and Jake heard her footsteps running away.

Damn it. He grimaced in annoyance.

That was another mistake. Emily was looking at him with that furious, hurt look chicks always got when they realised they weren’t

the only female he was interested in. ‘Maybe that’s your girlfriend?’ Her petulant tone was grating. ‘She’s a study partner.’

Emily got up from the bed, grabbing her clothes as she went. ‘Sure. That’s what they call them now!’

‘It was my fault. I forgot we had to meet for an essay class… She

came here, I didn’t lock the door.’

‘Convenient,’ Emily hissed.

‘Believe what you want,’ Jake said neutrally.

Thankfully, she was getting dressed, tugging on her chinos and mules.

‘Right, because so many students wear Chanel,’ Emily snapped. She picked up her coat and bag and stumbled toward the door. ‘Maybe you can give me a call when you finally grow up, Jake.’

He sat there as she slammed the door, muttering curses. Jake breathed out in relief. Don’t hold your breath, baby.

How could he have forgotten lose was coming here?

Jake grinned. Woman trouble. His usual.

He slipped out of bed and into the shower. Most student rooms

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didn’t have them, but his father had slipped Columbia such a large donation that Jake Rothstein had whatever he wanted. These rooms had previously belonged to a tenured professor. They had a neatly tiled bathroom and even a small kitchenette area, which he never used because he preferred to eat out.

The shower came in handy, though, when you had as much sex as Rothstein did. Plus, it was a bonus to be able to go running in the mornings and not have to queue to use the communal showers afterwards.

‘Why do you even want to room there?’ his father had asked. Jake shrugged. ‘Student experience.’

‘You have the place on Eighty-fifth Street.’ For his last birthday, his father had handed him the deeds to one of his many apartments: a glorious pre-war duplex with views of the river, eighteen-foot ceilings, marble floors, and an obsequious doorman. Fred Rothstein had heard of his son’s reputation as a stud from the irate parents of several young debs in his social circle. It was the one thing about his child that really pleased him. He had imagined Jake fucking his brains out in the Upper East Side place. Money like that made women drop their panties at the drop of a hat.

‘It’s great, Dad. But I want to be like the other students.’

Well, up to a point. Fred Rothstein wasn’t having his kid treated like cattle. That was for the poor.

He had compromised on the best student rooms money could buy. Jake didn’t fight him. A private bathroom was a necessity.

In his shower, Jake let the water sluice over his chest, soaping himself off briskly. He was tickled. It was good to get rid of Emily. And he liked the idea of Rose Fiorello catching him in bed. Arrogant bitch. He wanted her to see other women with him, to be jealous.

Jake 1Lothstein was egotistical, but he could usually back it up. Women flung themselves at him. Even the ones who played hard to get eventually wound up squirming underneath him. And after they broke up, he would still get calls.

Jake’s private theory was that most guys sucked in bed. Otherwise

why would his girls always be ready and willing?

All except Rose Fiorello.

She had started out acting up. Insulting him regularly. Jake had taken it as a mating call. There was a certain type of woman that liked to provoke, to challenge. They wanted reassurance that he was a dominant male.

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Jake always gave it to them. He never stood for bullshit from a female.

It was his way or the highway. Jake thought the aggressive types were his favourite. It was a particular pleasure to pin those girls to the bed, to make them explode in ecstatic submission.

But lose had not followed her stand-offish signals with comehither ones. Instead, over the last academic year, she had become polite - almost friendly, but not quite. She went out of her way to be helpful, as far as their studies went. She was an indispensable research partner. But it was as though she couldn’t bring herself to be really

W arlTl.

He wanted her.

Despite the fact that he’d just had Emily, he wanted Rose. It aroused him to think of Rose walking into his bedroom.

But he couldn’t do anything about it right now. Jake turned the water to cold, blasting himself. That was better. He couldn’t walk into lose’s room with a hard-on. Never let them see you’re interested.

Jake dressed himself quickly. She was almost too beautiful. Most girls on campus were somewhat insecure; they always had to have a man, or they’d start talking fibout how they’d just dumped some poor sucker. It was still considered embarrassing for a chick to be single. Even at the start of the Nineties.

Not for Rose Fiorello, though. She was just too beautiful for it to matter. That slender figure, that fountain of hair, the she-wolf eyes, the high, arrogant cheekbones. Every man wanted her. She didn’t need a status symbol.

‘Rose?’

‘Um, yeah.’

She opened the door to his knock. Pink Chanel, Gucci shoes, expensive-looking hose. Completely incongruous in a college setting. Emily had been right. Why was she dressed so smartly?

If you crossed a senator with a superrnodel, she’d look like this. ‘Come in, Jake.’ P,.ose gave him that smile of hers, the empty one. She was as pleasant and as impersonal as a doctor’s receptionist. ‘Sorry about earlier.’

He noticed the discreet flash of gold at her wrist.

How the hell did she afford this? A year ago she’d worn jeans and beat-up sneakers. She’d castigated him for being a rich boy.

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‘I thought.., the door was open.’ The faintest tint of red was on her olive-skinned cheeks.

‘My fault. I forgot to lock it.’ He grinned at her. ‘I was a little distracted.’

Rose refused to let the picture flash back into her mind. Jake Rothstein, with his muscular chest, its smattering of hair, sitting up in bed, those dark-lashed eyes staring at her. And the girl, her skin all sweaty and mottled from sex, squealing, glaring at Rose with jealous hatred. Like lose wanted her precious stud!

You’re only one in a long line, honey, she’d thought. Didn’t the bimbette know that?

OK, so he had a certain animal charm. She was a realist. She couldn’t deny that. He was square-jawed, dark-eyed, and well-built. He had a smattering of hair on his chest, and he was tall and imposing. And he carried himself with total confidence.

She also knew first-hand how intelligent he was. But that was OK. She wanted a worthy adversary.

It would make retribution all the sweeter.

There was a lot wrong with Jake Rothstein. She hated how he treated women. Like toys, playthings. Girls around campus code,d in the bathrooms about his stamina in bed. But so what? Rose was sttill a virgin, not that she admitted it to anyone. Wasn’t sex just friction? It couldn’t matter that much. “

And he had the best rooms, drove a Ferrari to school, and pretty much paid his exes off. A pair of diamond earrings, or a Mikomoto pearl necklace. Not uncommon for Jake’s ex-girlfriends who didn’t make a fuss.

The dreadful thing was that women seemed to love this!

Rose despised Jake, and she despised the girls that idolised him. He was nothing but a playboy with brains. And the heir to Rothstein Realty.

They were coming up to the end of their time at college. Rose was beginning to worry. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to make friends with Rothstein, and she needed him. He was her entree to Rothstein Realty.

He was. the key to her revenge.

‘Doesn’t matter.’ She smiled softly at him now. ‘Let?s just get on with it, OK?’

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‘Impressive.’

Jake looked at the paper she had presented to him, the neat system for revision, the work on their two theses. Her arguments had been so interesting he had briefly forgotten how much he wanted her.

But now it was done with. Their term papers were due next week.

P,.othstein pushed the paper back and regarded Rose Fiorello. For once, she was sitting there awkwardly, her fingers twisting in her lap,

as though she didn’t know what to do with herself. ‘Your work, too,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’ He knew it had been.

‘So, I guess this is it for us,’ Rose said.

‘Not necessarily.’ Jake grinned. ‘This is it for college. I like that suit, by the way.’

She smoothed down her skirt. ‘It’s new.’

‘If you don’t mind my saying so, it looks expensive. Very expensive.’ He waited for the rebuke for getting too personal, but she didn’t say anything. ‘Did you get a job, or win the lottery, or something?’

‘Other people in this world are allowed to have money,’ Rose snapped. Then she bit her lip and looked away, flushing. ‘I - I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve made some money.’

‘You don’t have to tell me how, if you don’t want to.’

‘No! I want to.’ She was suddenly eager. He was surprised at how she blew hot and cold. ‘I actually bought some property. I own a

couple of rental houses.’

‘You?’

He regretted it as soon as he’d said it. His expression was one of disbelief. Everyone knew she’d come here without a cent to her name.

‘Yes, me,’ P,,ose said, a touch of steel underneath her polite smile.

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‘You own rental houses. Well, that’s the American dream.’

‘You’re Jake Rothstein of Rothstein Realty, aren’t you?’ Rose

asked.

Jake laid back in his chair and looked her over, slowly.

‘So,’ he said. ‘You did notice me.’

‘Hard not to,’ Pose almost whispered.

Jake felt a sense of power flood him. Now he knew how his father

felt, sometimes. He was more than just another student to Fiorello;

he was a player. Instantly his focus shifted, away from history and

into the real world. Where he was about to become a senior, stock

holding Vice President in a billion-dollar company that would one

day be all his.

Most girls knew about his wealth and his reach by reading the

society pages. Rose Fiorello had not come by it that way, he

thought. She’d gotten into property, in a tiny way. Maybe she

owned a couple of condos, rented them out.

He was impressed. Jake didn’t really rate women when it came to

business. He instantly saw that Rose must be savvy; she had managed

to get financing somehow when she’d been dirt poor. FHA loans,

maybe. And she’d made enough to afford a Chanel suit and Told

watch.

.

That was very nice, he thought. But hardly important.

In his pond, she wasn’t even a minnow.

‘

Rothstein knew Rose Fiorello. She was a queen of research, very thorough. He pulled the picture together. She’d made a deal here

and there, gotten a taste for it, and started reading up. And, of course, found out about Rothstein Realty. ‘Guilty as charged,’ he said. Ironic answer.

‘I wondered if… if I could ask you for a favour,’ Rose said. It almost came out as a mumble. Jake grinned. ‘You want a job?’

‘No.’ The wolf-grey eyes regarded him coolly. ‘Just some information. To learn, that kind of thing. Maybe study what you do.

That is, assuming you actually work there.’ Tve run projects every summer.’ ‘What kind of projects?’

He shrugged. ‘Luxury condos in Westchester, a high-rise in Soho … about eighty units in that one.’

‘What was your budget?’