Cara, hmm?” He reached out and ran a finger down her bare arm. Cara flinched. “She is quite lovely. I can understand why you’d be tempted.”
“You’re nothing but scum, Bobby,” Jack said. “No matter how hard you try, you’ll never be anything more.”
Bobby’s expression grew positively evil. “I’m sad to say you won’t be leaving here with my fifteen million in hand,” he said. “It’s really too bad you had to cheat. Met the lovely Cara and bribed her to cooperate, did you? “
“Bobby, that’s not true!” Cara exclaimed. “I never saw him before tonight—”
Bobby’s hand shot out and twisted in her hair. “Shut up,” he growled before he slapped her again. The blow stung, but he hadn’t cut her this time.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Bobby shoved her down on the chair. Her hair covered her face and she dragged it back. But not before she heard a scuffle and a punch.
When she could see again, the two bodyguards were holding Jack between them as he jerked hard against them. Blood dripped from one of the guard’s noses and Jack’s knuckles were scraped.
“You will regret this, Gold,” he growled.
“No,” Bobby said, his voice full of menace, “you will.”
Jack sucked in a torturous breath. His rib cage felt like an elephant had sat on it. He wanted to open his eyes, but it hurt to do so. Where was he? He didn’t remember anything beyond the moment when Bobby’s thugs had started to beat him. He’d fought back, but two against one were never good odds.
He was in a vehicle now, moving. He had to open his eyes, in spite of the pain, and see if he could figure out where they were going.
It was dark, but he could see the road in front of them and a flash of silver hood in the streetlights. He was sitting in the passenger seat, and the dashboard looked vaguely familiar. The throaty purr of the engine was familiar, as well.
He turned his head on the seat back. Cara Taylor’s profile was the first thing he saw. She looked determined. His gaze followed her arms until he realized her hands were on a steering wheel. She was driving. They were driving. Somewhere.
“How.?” he asked.
Her head whipped sideways, back to the road again. “I told you to leave when you had the chance,” she said from between clenched teeth. “I could have fixed it. None of this would have happened.”
His laugh was rusty. God, he felt like he’d gotten into a fight with a freight train. “You weren’t fixing anything, sweetheart. You cost Gold a lot of money.”
It hadn’t taken him more than a few moments to realize why she’d been pulled from the game, or why Red Tie had been glaring at her. He was Bobby’s ringer, and she had been supposed to make sure he won the pot. That he hadn’t figured the truth out sooner, he blamed solely on himself. Perhaps he was as arrogant as the count in his own way. He’d let himself be distracted by lascivious thoughts of Cara. Yes, he’d concentrated on the cards and the reactions of the players, but hadn’t let his mind cast wider. If he had, he’d have understood the tension between her and Red Tie sooner.
She glanced at him again. “What makes you think that?”
“Because I know Bobby Gold.”
“I figured that,” she spat. “You could hardly do what you do without winding up in his casinos from time to time.”
Jack shifted, stifling a groan at the sharp pain in his side. “And what is it you think I do?”
She snorted. “You’re a gambler, Jack.”
He would have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so damn much. “How did you get us out of there?”
“Once they knocked you unconscious, Bobby left, but he promised they’d be coming back to finish the job, which I didn’t think sounded like an option I wanted to stick around for.”
“We’re in my car,” he said. He recognized the smell, the growl of the engine, the feel of the leather hugging his body.
“I got it from the valet. One of the waiters helped me get you out and put you in the car. I said you were drunk and that I had to drive you home.”
He had to hand it to her for thinking of it. Because if they’d stayed in that room, he wasn’t too sure that Bobby wouldn’t have done a bit more permanent damage.
“And where are we going now?”
“I need to get you to a hospital. But first I thought it best we get out of Nice. Bobby knows people.”
“I know people, too.” Hell, he had his own security firm. One call to them, and Bobby Gold would be singing soprano for the next month.
“As soon as we get to the next town, we’ll find a doctor.”
Jack winced again. “I don’t need a doctor. My ribs are bruised, not broken.”
“How do you know that?”
“Trust me. I’ve seen enough injuries to know what is what.” Thanks to his father. He’d rarely received the brunt of William’s anger, because he could sense when his father was about to explode like a powder keg, but he’d seen the results of his siblings’ beatings enough to know which injuries required a visit to the hospital.
“Fine, you don’t have broken ribs. But you could have a concussion.”
“Doubt it. But if I do, the cure for that is painkillers and rest.”
Cara let out a long-suffering sigh. “Is there anything you don’t know, Jack Wolfe?”
“I’m sure there are one or two things.”
She didn’t laugh. “If you’d just stayed out of it! I could have talked Bobby into forgiving me, could have kept my job and made everything right again.”
“You are incredibly naive, Cara. You cost the man fifteen million euros. Do you really believe he would forget that? “
Her fingers tightened on the wheel. “Once I explained—”
“Explained what? That you aren’t a cheat?”
“Yes,” she said tightly. “Because I’m not. It’s no good now, though, because he believes I planned this with you. Especially since I’ve helped you get away.”
“Why were you working for a man like Gold, anyway?”
She snorted. “Are you telling me that I should have been a card shark instead?”
“Not at all. But you have a talent for numbers, Cara. Surely there are other things you could do.”
“Like what?”
“You could find a job in finance—”
“I
