Heartless Rebel (20 page)

 
          
She’d
seen the way Jacob had looked at Jack yesterday. He’d seemed … remorseful. As
if he’d wanted to say something important, but Jack had exploded and shut him
down before he could do it.

 
          
Jack
opened his mouth. Closed it again, his expression turning to granite. “I don’t
know. I don’t care.”

 
          
Then
he reached for her, pulled her into his arms and nuzzled the skin of her neck.
A thrill went through her, and a twinge of sadness, as well. He’d tried, but he
didn’t really want to be close to her in any way other than physically. Sex was
what he wanted. No doubt he’d been humoring her in order to get to that point.

 
          
Cara
put her palms on his chest. His skin burned her through the fabric of the
casual cotton polo he wore. So hot, always so hot. She licked her lips, her
throat suddenly as dry as a desert.

 
          
She
had a choice. She could pretend none of this had happened, pretend she wasn’t
hurt by his unwillingness to share more with her—or she could go to bed alone.
It wasn’t an easy choice, but she had to stand up for herself. She wasn’t
simply his sex toy. She wasn’t here just to fulfill his physical needs. She was
worth more than that. If not to him, then at least to herself.

 
          
His
mouth was magical where it skimmed along her throat. Another few moments, and
she’d never be able to say no. Cara’s fists curled into his shirt.

 
          
“I’m
tired, Jack. It’s been a long few days.”

 
          
He
stiffened. She wasn’t sure what he would do, what he would say, but he let her
go and stepped back. His eyes were pewter in the evening light. Already, she
was regretting that she’d pushed him away. She wanted to press a kiss to his
hard jaw, wanted him to soften and smile again. But she wouldn’t do it. Not
tonight, not with her heart breaking like this.

 
          
“Then
I’ll say good-night,” he said. She waited for him to say something else, prayed
he would say something else, but he didn’t. He left her standing alone on the
balcony with the night sounds of London ringing in her ears.

 
          
* * *

 
          
What
had Jacob wanted? That was the billiondollar question so far as Jack was
concerned. There was nothing Jacob could say that would ever erase the pain and
anger of his abandonment. So why was Jack now wondering what his brother
wanted?

 
          
And
why was he thinking of Cara and the way she’d looked at him when he’d told her
he didn’t know and didn’t care?

 
          
Damn
her for making him wonder! Damn her for making him question his own reaction.
He hadn’t been able to control the rage that had burst from him at the sight of
his brother, of that face he’d once loved and admired so much. He’d felt every
sick moment of Jacob’s betrayal then. The panic and fear when they’d discovered
that Jacob was gone, that all he’d left was a note and that he wasn’t coming
back again.

 
          
It
had hurt so much back then. He’d thought he was over it, but the moment he’d
seen Jacob again, everything inside him had boiled over.

 
          
How
could he explain it to Cara? Why would he want to? This thing with Jacob had
nothing to do with the two of them. He resented her for making it into an issue
between them. He didn’t want her to know about the ugliness of his life before,
didn’t want to have to see her pitying expression when he told her about it.

 
          
Jack
threw down the pen he was holding and put his head in his hands. It was two in
the morning and he was still thinking about this. Still thinking about
her
. He wanted to go to her, wanted to
explain why he couldn’t talk about this.

 
          
But
why should he have to do that at all? What happened years ago had nothing to do
with right now.

 
          
Goddammit.
He wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t sitting here and beating himself up over it. It
was his life and he’d do what he damn well wanted. What he’d always done.

 
          
Jack
tapped a key on his computer, brought up the Japanese markets. They were
already well into the trading day, but that wouldn’t stop him from making a
killing before it was over.

 
          
When
Cara awoke, light was streaming through the shades and across the bed where she
lay. She turned her head. She was alone. Jack’s side of the bed hadn’t even
been slept in. Guilt shafted through her. Had he slept on the couch? Slept in
his office?

 
          
Or
had he left during the night?

 
          
Cara
flipped the covers back and grabbed her robe. He wouldn’t dare leave her alone
here, would he? She didn’t know why, but panic unwound inside her at the
thought. She didn’t pause to analyze it.

 
          
She
burst from the bedroom and hurried through the vast apartment. He wasn’t in the
kitchen, the living room or on the balcony that ran the length of the apartment.
She stopped, straining to hear any sound—and realized he was in his office. She
could hear the clackety-clack of a keyboard as she got closer. Pushing the door
open, she stopped and watched him.

 
          
“Have
you slept at all?” she said, her voice rusty.

 
          
His
head snapped up. And then he turned to look at the skyline outside his window,
as if he’d only just realized it was broad daylight. Another click of the keys
and then he was pushing back from the computer.

 
          
“I
lost track of time,” he said, as if it made perfect sense that he would do so.

 
          
“So
you’ve been at the computer all night?”

 
          
“Technically,
I suppose so. But it’s the end of the trading day in Asia.”

 
          
“Trading,”
she repeated. He was up all night trading? Trading what? Not baseball cards,
surely. As if a British man would be interested in baseball, she thought.

 
          
The
shadow of his beard had grown into a day’s worth of stubble. Why did he look so
unbearably sexy unshaven? And why did she want to go over and pull his head
down to hers, kiss him until neither one of them could breathe?

 
          
Stocks
. The word popped into her head,
and she felt silly for not thinking of it sooner. Jack owned an investment
firm. He’d told her that, and yet she kept seeing him as this maverick card
shark, this daredevil who lived life on the edge.

 
          
Though
perhaps trading stocks was a bit daredevilish.

 
          
“Did
you make any money?” she asked.

 
          
He
smiled. He didn’t look in the least bit weary. If not for his rumpled clothing
and day’s growth of beard, she wouldn’t know he’d been up all night.

 
          
“A
killing,” he said. “As usual.”

 
          
He
had a knack for making money, no doubt about it. “I’m sure your clients
appreciate your ability,” she said softly.

 
          
“They
do. But I wasn’t using the firm’s money.”

 
          
Just
as she’d thought, he risked everything on the vagaries of the market. Chance
was Jack’s constant companion. She didn’t understand how he could stomach the
uncertainty. But then, that was Jack.

 
          
“Then
I guess it’s good you won.”

 
          
“It
will be for a lot of people.”

 
          
Cara
shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

 
          
Jack
shoved his hands in his pockets, almost as if he were embarrassed somehow. “I
don’t need the money,” he said. “I like to use it where it’ll do the most
good.”

 
          
Cara’s
heart was thundering for an entirely different reason now. “You’re giving money
to charity?”

 
          
His
brows drew down as he studied her. “You seem surprised.”

 
          
“No,
not at all,” she hastened to reassure him. But she was surprised, and it shamed
her. Why had she thought he only cared for himself? That he was irresponsible
with money and unaware of how lucky he was to have so much of it? She should
have known better. The man who’d charged in—at great risk to himself—because
he’d thought she needed rescuing was not the sort of man who would turn a blind
eye to the suffering of others.

 
          
Jack
shrugged as he shoved a hand through his hair. “No, it’s all right. I
understand. I’ve given you little reason to think otherwise, have I?”

 
          
Cara
hugged her body as the heat of a blush flooded her. “I think I said before that
we don’t really know each other very well. Everything has been backward.”

 
          
“Maybe
we should work on that.”

 
          
Happiness
was a tangible force inside her. “Do you mean it, Jack?”

 
          
He
reached out and stroked two fingers along her cheek, her jaw, down her throat.
She shivered with the contact. How did he do this to her? How did he make her
want to forget everything she’d ever learned about relying only on herself?

 
          
“I
want to make love to you, Cara. But I want to know you, too. I want to know
what makes you the way you are.”

 
          
“The
way I am?”

 
          
“Fierce.
Independent. Unwilling to accept help when you need it.”

 
          
“I
didn’t need your help,” she said, knowing instinctively that he was talking
about the night in the casino. “You made everything worse by coming after me.”

 
          
He
snorted. “You don’t still believe that fiction, do you? Bobby Gold isn’t a nice
man, Cara. And you cost him fifteen million euros.”

 
          
She
thrust her chin up. She didn’t want to admit that he had a point, because to do
so would be to admit that maybe she wasn’t as in control as she liked to think.
She was so used to taking care of herself, taking care of her family, that
she’d never considered she wouldn’t manage in that situation. But what if she
hadn’t? What if Bobby had decided to use her as an example for his other
employees?
If
she’d disappeared in a foreign country, how long would it have taken for anyone
to notice? It wasn’t like she was a tourist, or that she called Mama every
night.

 
          
“Fine,”
Cara admitted. “Maybe I didn’t have it under control. But I didn’t really cost
him fifteen million. He kept it, remember? And he’d have found a way to do so
regardless of whether or not you followed me. You’d have never made it out of
the casino with the money. And you know it.”

 
          
He
was glowering at her, but then he suddenly grinned. It was as if a summer
thunderstorm had unexpectedly broke apart and let the sun shine down. “Then
maybe we helped each other, hmm?”

 
          
“Maybe
so.”

 
          
“Are
you hungry?” he asked. Cara nodded.

 
          
“Get
dressed and we’ll go out for breakfast.”

 
          
“But
aren’t you tired?” she asked incredulously. “I’ll sleep later.”

 
          
Cara
showered and dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a pearl knit top. Jack was
waiting for her when she emerged from the bedroom. He’d also showered and
changed, and his face was freshly shaven. He looked happier this morning, as if
a good night’s sleep had done wonders for him.