what she needed.
She caught Bobby’s gaze as she made her way back to the table. His brows were drawn down, his face twisted into a cruel sneer. Her heart thumped for a different reason now. If she didn’t do Bobby Gold’s bidding, there was no telling what he’d do to her. Money would be the least of her worries.
CHAPTER TWO
IF NOT for Cara, Jack would have gotten bored a long time ago. The cards were too easy, too inconsequential. If he lost, he’d make it back on the stock market. But he wouldn’t lose. He never lost. People thought he had the good luck gene in spades, but the truth was he’d learned to rely on his skill with probability and numbers because he had to. Once his father had died, once his brother Jacob had abandoned them—and then Lucas shortly after—the responsibility to take care of his younger brothers and sister had fallen to Jack.
He’d needed to use every resource he had in order to make money, but it wasn’t enough. He could take care of his family’s finances, but he couldn’t heal the open wounds that refused to close. They’d all, every one of them, suffered at the hands of William Wolfe. He’d tried to fix it, but nothing would ever make it right. Annabelle, sweet Annabelle, would carry the scars of what William had done to her for the rest of her life.
Jack shook off the memories of his sister’s scarred face and focused hard on the game. This was no time to get lost in thoughts of the past. Fifteen million euros in casino chips were piled in the middle of the table. The sheikh was sweating profusely and Count von Hofstein’s brows had drawn into a permanent frown.
Even Cara looked pensive. She was biting her lip again, that luscious lip he longed to suck between his own. Her fingers, so certain and sure as she did her job, were trembling. One of the men at the table, an insignificant man with a red tie he’d recently loosened, seemed to glare at her as if he were trying to impart a telepathic message.
She looked up then, directly at Jack, and his gut clenched. She seemed … uncertain. Her expressive eyes were wide and her creamy skin appeared to have lost a shade of color, making her appear pale and fragile.
“Sir?” she said.
It took him a moment to realize she was talking to him. And that it was his turn.
“Call,” he replied, tossing his chips into the pile. Because he was tired of sitting here, because he wanted to get out of the dark, cloying atmosphere of this room and back into the fresh air. Because he wanted to talk Cara Taylor into getting into his car and going for a drive along the coast. He still had a few days before he had to be in London for Nathaniel’s wedding. Spending it in bed with a vibrant woman like Cara seemed a perfect plan.
The man in the red tie, the only player who hadn’t folded this round, laid his cards on the table with a smirk. “A full house, Mr. Wolfe,” he said. “Queens and kings.”
Jack only sighed. “That’s excellent.” And then he flipped his cards over one by one. Ten. Ten. Ten.
The man’s brow glistened.
Jack flipped over the two of hearts and the man sucked in his breath triumphantly, his fingers reaching automatically for the pile.
“Not quite,” Jack said as he turned over the last card. The man’s jaw dropped.
Count von Hofstein groaned. “Mein lieber Gott.”
Cara Taylor looked at the last card and smiled. But the corners of her mouth wavered as she did so. “Four of a kind. The gentleman wins.”
Jack stood. He didn’t feel satisfaction or triumph. He simply felt done.
“If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I believe I’m going to cash out.”
Cara’s fingers definitely trembled as she gathered the cards. Red Tie glared at her furiously before turning to look over his shoulder. A prickle of awareness tingled through Jack. This wasn’t good, and yet it was too late to change the outcome. Dammit, he’d known Bobby Gold was up to something.
As if in confirmation of the fact, Bobby stepped from behind a door at the other end of the room. He stopped to talk with one of the bouncers. A few seconds later, the man made his way toward the table. The other players were getting up to stretch their legs, but Jack didn’t miss the look on Cara’s face when the man stopped beside her and leaned down to whisper something in her ear.
Beefy fingers spanned Cara’s upper arm as she turned and walked toward the back of the room with him. Another croupier stepped from the wings—a blonde with fake breasts and a spray tan—and took out a fresh deck.
“Gentlemen,” she cooed. “Surely you aren’t finished yet. Mr. Gold would like to spot each of you fifty thousand euros as his gift to remain in the game.”
Jack’s intuition kicked him in the gut as Cara disappeared behind the door Bobby had just exited. He knew what fear looked like, knew the kind of terror an abusive man inspired. He’d witnessed it often enough growing up. Cara Taylor was scared about something.
And he couldn’t leave without finding out what it was. He’d been unable to protect his siblings from William Wolfe’s wrath, but he’d be damned if he’d let Cara get hurt tonight.
Cara’s cheek stung where Bobby had backhanded her. Blood trickled down her lip from where his ring sliced her. She sat on a small chair in a windowless room and cursed herself for her inability to do what he’d wanted.
But as she’d stood there, looking at the pile of chips in the center of the table, she’d known she couldn’t cheat. Mama would be ashamed of her. She would be ashamed of herself. The only thing she had was her integrity. To allow someone else to take that away?
Unthinkable.
And yet she now wished she’d done just that. Because Bobby was furious. He’d hit her and screamed at her and locked her up in here. She didn’t know what came next, but she was certain it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
She dropped her head into her hands and sat there, waiting. Bobby was ruthless, but she didn’t think her life was in danger. And once he got over his anger, he might let her return to the tables. She was very good at what she did, and Bobby knew it. But she wasn’t willing to compromise her integrity. She simply couldn’t. If they knew where they each stood on the issue, then she could keep working and Bobby would never put her in a position like this again.
Dream on, Cara.
It was impossible and she knew it, but she couldn’t help holding out a small hope everything would work out. If not, then she’d head home and start again. Starting over was nothing new for her. She’d find a way to make it work.
The door opened and her head snapped up. She expected Bobby—and she was ready to try and make him see reason—but the man who entered made her stomach drop to her toes. She shot to her feet, her heart thudding.
“What are you doing here? Get out before Bobby finds you!”
She felt Jack’s gaze on her skin like a hot brand. His jaw hardened as he took in the welt on her cheek, the blood on her lip.
“I’m not afraid of Bobby Gold. Is he the one who hit you?”
Damn the man! He was going to ruin everything. All
