Heartless Rebel

 
          
LYNN RAYE HARRIS
read her first Mills
& Boon
^®
romance when her grandmother carted home a box from a
yard sale. She didn’t know she wanted to be a writer then, but she definitely
knew she wanted to marry a sheikh or a prince and live the glamorous life she
read about in the pages. Instead she married a military man, and moved around
the world. These days she makes her home in North Alabama, with her handsome
husband and two crazy cats. Writing for Harlequin is a dream come true. You can
visit her at www.lynnrayeharris.com.

 
          
Many thanks to Sarah, Caitlin, Abby,
Robyn, Janette, Jennie, and Kate for making this project so much fun to work
on! The only thing that could have made it more fun was if we’d had a writers’
retreat somewhere tropical while we worked. Maybe next time …

 
          
CARA
TAYLOR wiped sweaty hands against the tight satin of her skirt, hoping she
didn’t leave an imprint. Tonight was the night. The biggest night of her career
as a croupier thus far, and she’d just been dealt a blow she wasn’t sure she
could recover from.

 
          
Bobby
wanted her to throw the game. Cara took a deep breath to steady herself. She
could do this. She
had
to do this.
The men who would arrive at her table in just a few minutes were some of the
wealthiest, most daring men in the world. In many ways, though they made her
job possible, she loathed them. They were accustomed to waging millions of
dollars on one turn of the cards, and just as accustomed to losing as they were
winning. This was child’s play for them.

 
          
Did
it matter if she was the instrument of their losses tonight? Not one of them
would go home poor. Not one of them understood what it was like to lose
everything they had, to fight and struggle for survival on a daily basis.

 
          
Cara
knew. She’d been fighting to save her family since Hurricane Katrina blew
through New Orleans over five years ago and devastated their home. And not only
their home; Katrina had also blown away the diaphanous veil obscuring her
father’s dark secrets. With her father’s betrayal and her mother’s subsequent
breakdown, it had been Cara’s responsibility as the oldest to make sure her
family was safe and well. It had taken a long time and a lot of work—not to
mention putting her own dreams on hold—but she’d gotten them back on their
feet.

 
          
Tonight,
she finally had a chance to put financial worries behind them for good. She
would set Mama up with enough money to make sure the house was paid for and the
exorbitant insurance premiums covered. Since the hurricane, insurance companies
had raised their rates through the roof. And Mama didn’t want to move farther
inland.

 
          
Though
it often frustrated Cara, she also understood it in a perverse way: New Orleans
was home. Mama had been born and raised there, and she couldn’t leave it. Nor,
it seemed, could Cara’s sister, Evie. She chewed the inside of her lip. If not
for Evie staying home to help Mama and their little brother, Remy, Cara
wouldn’t be here. And since she was here, she owed it to them all to do
everything she could to secure their future.

 
          
After
tonight, Remy would continue to have the specialized care he needed, which was
the most important consideration of all. The bonus Bobby had promised her when
she’d agreed to come to Nice for the opening of his new casino would finally
enable her to achieve all the goals she’d had when she’d left home.

 
          
But
first she had to throw this game.

 
          
“You
understand what you have to do,” an oily voice said from behind her.

 
          
Cara
turned smoothly, hoping her distress didn’t show on her face. “Of course.”

 
          
Bobby
Gold winked as he tapped her on the ass. Cara did her best not to flinch. She’d
never liked Bobby, but he was the king of the casinos in Vegas—and abroad, as
this new multi-billion-dollar facility located in an old French palace in the
center of Nice proved.

 
          
When
she’d begun working as a croupier, it had been for one of Bobby’s rivals. It
hadn’t taken long for Bobby to find her and offer her a job. She’d refused at
first—but money, and her desperate need for it, had eventually won out. And,
other than the occasional leering pass from the man, she’d had no reason to
regret her decision.

 
          
Until
now.

 
          
Bobby’s
gold tooth caught the light as he smiled.

 
          
She’d
never been sure if it was an affectation, or if the man really needed a gold
tooth. Nevertheless, it disgusted her.

 
          
“Keep
the players happy, Cara. Use those beautiful breasts of yours to distract them
as much as possible. And keep an eye on the man I point out to you. When the
stakes get high enough, he’ll give you the signal.”

 
          
Cara’s
face burned, but whether from Bobby’s casual suggestion she use her breasts to
distract the players or from the idea of cheating—of going against her entire
moral compass—she wasn’t quite sure. She suspected it was a bit of both.
Cheating wasn’t in her lexicon, especially after the devastation her father had
caused. Adultery was a different kind of cheating, but the results were the
same. It was simply wrong.

 
          
And
she wasn’t a cheater, period.

 
          
Cara
slid a nervous hand down her skirt once more. She wanted to pull her shirt
closed a bit more, but she wouldn’t do so while Bobby leered at her. Usually,
her uniform consisted of a long skirt and a high white-collared shirt with a
bow tie.

 
          
Tonight,
Bobby had given her a new uniform. Short, tight black satin mini, and deep-V
crimson silk blouse. The bow tie was still a part of the uniform, only now it
was around her bare throat.

 
          
Just get through tonight, Cara, and you can
go back home and never see Bobby Gold again
.

 
          
A
pang of wistfulness shot through her at the thought of leaving Nice before
she’d even gotten to explore it. She’d put her dreams of adventure on hold
after Katrina’s devastation, and now that she’d finally gotten to go somewhere
wonderful, she was about to leave again.

 
          
“I’ll
do what I can, boss,” she said.

 
          
Bobby’s
face grew hard, his gaze cold and cruel. She’d seen that look before. A shiver
washed over her at the thought of all Bobby was capable of.

 
          
“Make
sure that you do, Cara. I’d hate to have to punish you.”

 
          
Before
she could answer, he turned away and strode toward the bar. Cara let out a long
breath. She turned back to the table as the black velvet curtain to the private
entrance parted. A tall blond man strode into the room and went straight for
the bar. She could hear his accent as he ordered. German. Count von Hofstein, then.

 
          
As
the minutes trickled by, several more men entered the luxurious room that Bobby
had set aside for this very special game. A fat sheikh, who wore a headdress
with his three-piece suit and sported a huge ruby ring on the index finger of
his left hand. An African man, tall and handsome with luminous ebony skin, came
in and took a seat at the table. One by one, the seats filled.

 
          
The
men were quiet, contemplating the game perhaps.

 
          
When
there was only one chair left, the curtain parted again and another man
entered. Cara’s pulse kicked up. He was tall, lean and impeccably dressed in a
bespoke tuxedo. His hair was dark—black or brown—and his eyes were the most
piercing shade of silver she’d ever seen. His jaw was strong, handsome, his
lips almost cruel in their sensuality. Everything about him screamed money.

 
          
And
everything about his demeanor said he didn’t give a damn about anyone or
anything.

 
          
Cara
shivered as a chill prickled down her spine. She’d never had quite this
reaction to the sight of a man before. She’d moved with her ex to Las Vegas,
but she hadn’t done so because her heart had fluttered when James had entered a
room.

 
          
This
man’s expression, so cold and distant, grew even chillier as he looked at her.
She quickly glanced away, cursing herself for staring.

 
          
Great.
He probably thought she was one of those women working in a casino in order to
snag a rich husband. She’d had more than one man assume she was looking for a
good time, but she’d quickly set the record straight whenever any of them
assumed she was up for sale along with the poker chips.

 
          
A
touch on her arm startled her, and she jumped, her heart slamming into her
ribs. Bobby pulled her away from the table. Cara folded her arms over her
breasts, hating the way Bobby looked down her shirt, and hating that he knew it
bothered her by the way he grinned at her.

 
          
“Don’t
get any ideas of being noble, Cara,” he said. “That bonus I promised you will
go a long way toward helping your sweet mama, so make sure you remember it.” He
leaned in close, ran a fat hand down her arm. “The man with the red tie is
Brubaker. When it’s time, pass the play to him. He’ll take care of the rest.”

 
          
“Yes,
boss,” she said, hoping her revulsion didn’t show.

 
          
Cara
returned to the table and took out her deck of cards. After announcing the
rules of the game, she shuffled. Then she passed the deck to the player on her
right, who also shuffled. After a series of shuffles and cutting the deck, Cara
dealt the cards.

 
          
The
man with the silver eyes was directly across from her. He picked up his cards.
There was no flash of emotion, no indication whether he was pleased or
irritated, before he set them back down. During her time in Vegas, she’d seen
her share of card sharks and amateurs. She’d always been able to tell what a
player thought of his hand by the telltale little signs she’d observed at
countless tables.

 
          
But
this man was unreadable.

 
          
Until
he looked up and caught her gaze. His eyes bored into hers, and her pulse
skittered wildly. For the first time tonight, she was glad she wasn’t wearing a
high collar. Because she’d have been sweating beneath this man’s gaze if she
had been.

 
          
His
mind did not appear to be on the cards lying in front of him. Slowly, his gaze
slipped over her, lingering on her breasts, before sliding back up. His regard
didn’t repulse her the way Bobby’s had. No, if anything, her skin tingled with
awareness and heat.