The Heartless Rebel

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “Aren’t you sweet,” she managed to say without rolling her eyes.

  The hand ended and Cara collected the cards.

  “Maybe we can turn that drink into dinner,” Rand said.

  “Maybe.”

  “She’s not going to dinner with you,” a voice growled.

  Cara’s head snapped up. She blinked at the man standing on the other side of the table.

  He was tall, menacing—and so damn handsome he broke her heart.

  Rand was looking at Jack like he’d just taken away a lollipop. “I think she can decide for herself,” Rand said. “Isn’t that right, Cara?”

  Oh, God.

  She swallowed. Jack arched an eyebrow as he stared at her, his silver eyes glittering with heat and anger.

  A rush of hot emotion flooded her, followed by a quickening current of doubt. Why was he here? Was this some kind of joke?

  “I haven’t decided what I’m doing later,” Cara said, her eyes never leaving Jack’s. “I have no commitments.”

  She emphasized the word commitments.

  Jack pulled a chair out and sat down. “Tell you what,” he said to Rand, his gaze still not leaving hers, “I’ll play you for her.”

  Cara sputtered. Rand grinned. “All right, dude,” he said. “But I hope you don’t mind losing.”

  Cara smacked the cards onto the table. “Gentlemen, your stakes are your casino chips.

  There are no other bets permitted.”

  Jack shrugged. “Fine. Whoever has the most chips gets to stay at this table. The loser disappears.”

  “Sounds fair,” Rand agreed.

  Fury bubbled in her veins, but she dealt the cards. One hand turned into two. Two turned into four. On the fifth hand, Jack laid down his cards with that infuriating blankness she’d come to expect out of him. Rand had no idea what was about to hit him.

  “Four of a kind. The gentleman wins,” she pronounced.

  Rand whistled. Then he put his hand out and shook Jack’s. “No hard feelings, buddy.

  Good luck.”

  She watched Rand go, stunned at how easily he accepted the loss. He’d be at another table in moments, flirting with another dealer. And he’d probably get that drink, and dinner, and a whole lot more besides.

  She felt like an idiot. And she felt hot and angry and achy all at once. The man across the table from her seemed so calm and all she wanted to do was wrap her hands around his neck and choke him.

  And then she wanted to kiss the living daylights out of him.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, tossing the cards out in rapid succession. There were no other players at her table. She wondered if he’d somehow arranged that, too.

  Jack picked up the cards. “Gambling.”

  “I can see that,” she said crisply. “Why are you gambling, and why are you doing it in New Orleans?”

  He folded the hand and met her even stare. “Because you’re here.”

  Cara fumed. “Wonderful. Now why don’t you go away and leave me alone?”

  “I can’t.”

  Her heart was never going to survive this. It thundered out of control. Her skin was so hot that she wished she could unbutton her white shirt and fan herself. The only way she was getting back to normal was if he left. “I want you to go, Jack.”

  “And I want to talk to you.”

  “You had your chance. What could you possibly want to say now?”

  He looked out over the casino. The bells of the slots were ringing, people were talking and laughing, and the air, though cooled by massive air-conditioning units, felt heavy. She waited helplessly, because she couldn’t storm away if she wanted to keep her job. He had her trapped, and no doubt he knew it.

  His gaze settled on her again. “I have a lot to say. But I don’t want to do it here.”

  A couple walked over and asked if they could join the game. Cara smiled and did her job, though her emotions were in turmoil. Jack stayed at the table for the next hour. When he finally got up and left, she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know why he was here. Two weeks ago, he’d let her walk out as if he didn’t care that she was leaving. As if he could replace her in his bed as easily as walking into a store and buying a new shirt.

  Which, she’d decided, he probably could.

  He didn’t return for the rest of her shift. By the time she got off work, she was angry with herself for caring. She’d kept expecting him to return. She’d looked for him, watched the entrances for any sign of him and casually walked through the casino on her breaks.

  Jack had disappeared.

  Which was no doubt for the best.

  It was nearly midnight when she emerged onto the palm-lined street, and the air was still heavy with heat and humidity. Cara shouldered her bag to begin the walk to the streetcar stop.

  “You are not seriously thinking of walking alone at night, are you?”

  She spun around to find Jack watching her. With all the people mingling on the steps of the casino, she hadn’t seen him standing there when she’d exited.

  “It’s not far,” she said.

  He came over and took her bag off her shoulder. “I’ll walk with you.”

  “It’s not necessary, Jack.”

  “I want to.”

  “And you always get what you want, don’t you?” she said bitterly.

  He shook his head. She was tall, but he was so much taller, and he towered over her, his presence both comforting and disturbing. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and she wanted to run away from him all at once. It hurt so much to see him again. And he was oblivious.

  “I don’t, actually,” he said.

  They walked several steps away before she spun around to face him. The street was well lit, but they were alone this far from the entrance. The air was so thick. She could smell the Mississippi flowing by, could hear the relentless roll of it in her soul. Nothing stopped the river, not even the levees. When the Mississippi grew furious, it rolled farther and faster than ever, devastating those in its path.

  Jack was like that, she thought. He was unstoppable. And he devastated anyone in his path. Anyone who dared to love him.

  “What do you want from me, Jack? Why have you come all this way? I want to know right now, because I’m not walking another step and waiting for you to decide when the time is right to speak. Say it now, or don’t say it at all.”

  He laughed, a surprised bark of laughter. It warmed her from within, though she wouldn’t let him know it. She had to be cool and collected, had to be prepared for whatever he unleashed. “Why did you send that money back?” Cara blinked. Her heart seemed to shrivel in her chest. Because, yes, like a fool, she’d hoped he’d come for more.

  “You overpaid me. The deal was for fifty thousand, minus two for the clothes.”

  “And I paid you fifty thousand.”

  “No, you paid me nearly eighty.” This was inane! Why were they discussing this?

  “That’s the exchange rate, sweetheart.” Cara’s jaw dropped. And then she turned without a word and strode down the street. He’d come all this way to argue about money? Because he’d paid her in pounds sterling—or maybe in euros; hell if she knew—when she’d meant dollars?

  It was ridiculous.

  He caught her arm and spun her around. Cara tried to jerk away, but he wouldn’t let go. Dropping her bag, he pushed her against the wall and trapped her there. Cara’s eyes closed. He was so warm, so hard, and she’d missed him so much. His scent wrapped around her. She wanted nothing more than to tilt her head up and beg him to kiss her.

  “Let me go,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “I can’t,” he said. “Jack, for God’s sake—”

  “I love you, Cara.”

  She went completely still. A tremor flowed from his body to hers. But no, she had to be imagining it.

  His head dipped and his lips touched hers. The kiss was light, so light and tentative, and her heart blossomed.

  Her hands curled into fists on his
chest—and then she pushed him away. “Stop, just stop.”

  He did, but the tremor was still there. Or maybe she was imagining it. Maybe it was the jarring of traffic on the road—not that anything had passed recently—or maybe the river was roiling against its barriers so hard it shook the city.

  “I can’t do this,” she said, as much to herself as to him. Her heart was still so raw. It had only been two weeks since she’d left London—a little over a month since she’d met him—and she didn’t know when she would ever feel normal again.

  She was certain he cared about her—he’d told her so back in London—and certain he needed her physically as much as she needed him.

  But he did not love her. He couldn’t. How could he go from that cold, remote, disconnected man he’d been for most of his life to a man capable of letting her inside his heart in only two weeks?

  It was impossible, no matter how much she wanted it to be true.

  His hands dropped to his sides. She reached out and ran her palm along his cheek. His beautiful cheek.

  “I appreciate that you want to try, Jack. But we both know you aren’t capable of doing this. And it’s okay. It really is.”

  Blindly, she reached for her bag and slipped around him. She felt … bereft. She wanted to turn back to him, wanted what he’d said to be true, but she knew better. How could she ever trust that he wouldn’t wake up one day and realize he’d been wrong? That he’d pushed himself into something he wasn’t capable of simply because he enjoyed the sex?

  She’d seen the reality of that before, and she wasn’t prepared to experience it firsthand.

  “I had no idea you were a coward, Cara.”

  His voice cracked across her ears like a whip. She stumbled to a halt and turned around.

  He closed the distance between them, though he did not touch her this time. But he was so close, his presence so overwhelming. She wanted to step back, but she did not.

  “You’re afraid,” he said. “You claim that you love me, that you want more from me, but you don’t want to give it yourself, do you? You used this to push me away, just as I pushed you away for loving me.”

  “You’re wrong—”

  “But the truth is,” he continued over top of her, “that we’re both afraid and we did everything possible to make the other one leave.”

  “That’s not true—”

  He gripped her shoulders. “It is, Cara.”

  She felt her lip begin to tremble. Because she was scared, damn him. What if he really did love her? And what if she gave her heart to him only to have it smashed to bits someday down the road when he’d stopped loving her?

  It had been easier to walk away while she still could.

  “Listen to me,” he said roughly. “I told you I couldn’t give you more, but I was wrong.

  I’ve been blaming my brothers for leaving the family, for abandoning their duty while I had to stick around and make everything work. And I learned how to do it. I made it work by committing myself to doing it. But I let my ability to trust, my ability to love, atrophy. If I didn’t feel, then no one could hurt me.”

  “Jack …” He shredded her heart and soul with his confession. He’d suffered so much, was still suffering, and she hated it. But she was afraid, too. What if he let himself feel now, but his feelings changed later? How would she survive it?

  “I saw Jacob after you left. And I realized that I was just like him. In trying to be what I needed to be for everyone, I became what I despised. I was there in body, but I’d let my spirit run away a long time ago.”

  A tiny tendril of hope began to unfurl inside her. “You talked to him?”

  He shrugged. “I could have done better, perhaps, but we spoke briefly.”

  “Did it make you feel better at all?”

  He blew out a breath. “I didn’t think so at the time. But maybe it did. Because it helped me to see what I’d been doing. With you. With my life.”

  Cara bowed her head. His grip on her shoulders eased. “I want to believe you, Jack.

  But we’re so different. I don’t belong in your world—”

  He said a very obscene word. “You belong wherever you want to belong, Cara. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re stronger and more honorable than anyone I know. Who else would refuse to throw a fifteen-million-euro card game when so much was at stake personally?”

  “I think a lot of people would. I don’t think I’m unique in that.”

  Jack laughed. “Maybe not unique, but damn rare among the people I know. And I love you for it.”

  “Now I know you’re not serious,” she said. “Because if that’s why you love me, what happens when you find out there are a whole lot of people who would do what I did? I could introduce you to quite a few while you’re here—”

  He stopped her with his mouth. She vaguely thought she should push him away again, but she really didn’t want to. Just one more kiss. One more night. She could do that, right?

  “It’s not the only reason I love you,” he said against her lips. A shiver trickled down her spine. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, dipped inside to tangle with hers again.

  “Oh, God, Cara,” he groaned as she arched against him. “I love you for so many reasons. Reasons that have nothing to do with that gorgeously wicked tongue of yours, though I’m damned if I can think when you’ve been kissing me like this.”

  “You kissed me,” she protested.

  “I’d like to kiss more of you,” he said. “Much, much more.”

  Cara put her hand against his chest and took a step back. She needed space to breathe, space to think. He addled her brain. Liquefied her insides. Made her want to do utterly shameless things with him.

  Right here, right now.

  “I want to know what you expect to happen now that you’ve told me you love me.”

  His smile was confident, sure and completely heart-stopping. “What I expect is that you will agree to marry me. As soon as possible. Tonight would be best, but I’ll wait until tomorrow—”

  “You can’t get married that fast anywhere, Jack.”

  He put a finger over her lips. “Yes, you can, sweet Cara. Las Vegas. But if that’s unacceptable, if you must have a big wedding for your family, then I will wait for that day.”

  He took his finger away and kissed her, a quick peck that had her stretching up to him even as he pulled away and continued, “And to prove how serious I am, how desperately I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I vow not to make love to you until we are married.

  Whether that day is tomorrow or six months from now, your chastity is assured.”

  Joy was beginning to bubble up inside her soul. And certainty: the certainty this was absolutely right, that he was right for her and that their love would last forever.

  “What if I don’t want to be chaste?” she asked, slipping her arms around his neck and arching against him.

  His body was stone. Hard, hot stone. He closed his eyes and groaned. Then he opened them and speared her with a glare.

  “You will be, like it or not, until the day we are married.”

  Cara smiled, her heart racing ahead and making her almost dizzy. This was really happening. She was really going to do this. She was going to take the biggest chance of her life—and she wasn’t scared any longer.

  “Did you bring your plane, Jack Wolfe?”

  His answering grin stole her breath. “I did indeed.”

  “Vegas?” she asked.

  “Vegas.”

  Epilogue

  They were married in Las Vegas before the sun set the next day. And they were making love in a penthouse suite not an hour later. Though it had only been less than two weeks since they’d last been together, this time was like the first time. Jack worshipped her body with his own, bringing her to climax again and again before taking his own pleasure.

  Later, when she’d recovered sufficiently, Cara returned the favor, teasing and taunting him to the edge of control before taking him ov
er the peak.

  They fell into a deep sleep, and then woke again before sunrise to make love when everything was quiet and still. When it was over, Cara fell asleep again. Her dreams were filled with Jack, and when she woke, he was there with a tray of food and a bouquet of fresh-cut roses.

  “Do you think your mother minds very much that she couldn’t be here for the wedding?” Jack asked as she smeared jelly on the last slice of toast.

  Her heart turned over as she looked at him. He was clad in a pair of silk boxers—and that only so he could answer the door when room service came, she imagined. His hair was tousled, and his easy smile stole her breath away.

  “So long as we have the big wedding back home, she doesn’t care that we’re already married. She couldn’t have left Remy, anyway. He wouldn’t understand.”

  “No, I don’t suppose he would.”

  Mama had been so happy for her, and she’d loved Jack on sight. And when they eventually had the church wedding back in New Orleans for friends and family, Mama would be the proudest woman alive.

  “What?” Jack said a few moments later, and she knew she’d been staring at him.

  “I’m just thinking how much I love you. And how grateful I am for what you’re doing for Remy.”

  The full-time nurse Jack had suggested they hire would make such a difference in Remy’s life. In all their lives. Mama wouldn’t have to worry so much about her son anymore, and Evie would no longer have to take turns watching Remy. She could pursue her own goals and have the life a twenty-three-year-old should have.

  With additional therapy, Remy would be able to cope with changes much better than he did now. It was more than Cara had ever dreamed she would be able to provide.

  “Your family is my family now. And your mother’s a wonderful woman.”

  “You’re just saying that because she told you to marry me quick before I changed my mind.”

  He leaned down and kissed her. “You weren’t changing your mind.”

  He went over and opened his briefcase. When he dropped a thick packet on her tray, she frowned.

  “What’s this?”

  Jack’s smile was very self-satisfied. Like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, she decided.