Read Heartless Rebel for Free Online

delicious,” he added.
                 “Thanks,
but compliments will get you nowhere.”
                 “Sweetheart,
you have nothing to worry about, I assure you. As much as I might like to have
sex with you tonight, I believe the contact would kill me.”
                 The
word sex , said with that wonderful
accent of his, caressed across her senses and lit a flame inside her belly.
                 Cara
swung the door open. There was only one bed. She hesitated. She could go back
down to the clerk and tell him he’d made a mistake, but then she’d have to
leave Jack here before returning and helping him to another room. But she
couldn’t do that to him, not when he was like this.
                 With
a sigh, she guided him over to the bed and sat him down on it. It wasn’t a very
big bed. She would simply have to sleep on the floor.
                 “A
hot bath would probably do you good,” she said, frowning at him as he winced.
                 One
corner of his mouth crooked in a grin. “Do you plan to help me wash, then?”
                 The
heat of a blush rippled over her skin. Oh,
yes . “No.”
                 “Too
bad.”
                 “I’ll
run the bath for you.”
                 His
expression was a mixture of devilishness and gravity. “I’m not going to be able
to get into it without help.”
                 Cara’s
insides went hot and liquid all at once. She hadn’t thought of that, but of
course he was right. She wanted to refuse, and yet she couldn’t. If it would
help him to feel better at all, she had to get him into the tub.
                 “Fine.”
                 He’d
already loosened his bow tie earlier and undid the first few studs of his
shirt. Cara resolutely slipped the jacket from his shoulders, her heart
thudding at his nearness and heat. She had to stand so close to him, her thighs
touching his as she stood between his legs. She was conscious of the deep V of
her blouse, conscious of his eyes on the slope of her breast. Her skin tingled,
her insides tightening.
                 “You
really do smell wonderful,” he said.
                 “It’s
just soap.” She felt self-conscious standing so close to him, felt as if her
skin was too tight, as if she would splinter apart if she let this be anything
more than a routine task she had to perform.
                 “Wonderful
soap.”
                 “You’re
a smooth talker, Jack Wolfe,” she said as she undid his studs. “But I’ve heard
it all, believe me.”
                 She
pulled his shirttails from his trousers. Slipping the shirt off, she tried not
to react to the sight of his bare shoulders. They were muscled, not too much,
but lean and hard and strong. It shouldn’t surprise her that he had the body of
an athlete, but it was a bit disconcerting to find that what was underneath the
clothes was every bit as enticing as the man in the tuxedo had been.
                 Focus, Cara .
                 Pulling
the undershirt from his waistband, she lifted it very carefully over his head.
Cara had to bite her lip at the broad expanse of bare, toned chest. He was
tanned, with the kind of defined pecs and abs that made her giddy—but there was
some light bruising over his rib cage where Bobby’s thugs had hit him. It would
darken over the next few days.
                 “If
I felt better, I might take the way you’re looking at me as an invitation.”
                 Cara’s
gaze snapped up. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was looking at your bruises,” she
said, though she imagined the blush blooming across her cheeks gave away the
lie.
                 He
looked down. “It could be worse.”
                 Her
chest felt tight. He’d gotten those bruises because of her.