So maybe the beautiful Miss Lake was the trusting sort.
It was a thought. Jack Prescott was a tough man to break. Trusting little Caroline Lake was going to be the hammer that would smash him.
This was good. A plan was forming.
Satisfied that he had done all he could for the moment, Deaver drove off to his hotel.
Tomorrow the endgame began.
On Monday morning, Caroline peered out at the sky, trying to gauge what to expect. It wasn’t snowing at the moment, but the sky was a sullen dark gray, even though it was eight in the morning.
Would it snow today? She hadn’t been able to listen to the forecasts because the TV and the radio were both still on the blink. She could check the Internet, but her computer was up in her room and by the time she powered it up and Googled the weather, she’d be running late.
Whether it snowed or not was out of her control. She needed to drive to work, and that was that. Plus, Jack wanted to get going on whatever it was he needed to do today. He was already in his denim jacket, ready to go.
Caroline pasted a smile on her face. Monday mornings were always hard, but this one was harder yet.
If she could, she’d press rewind and live yesterday all over again. They’d done absolutely nothing but eat and make love all day. Well, she’d done nothing but eat and make love all day. Jack had managed to fix her leaky washing machine, repair the bookshelves in her bedroom, oil the hinges of the garage door and shovel another bazillion tons of snow off the driveway. All the while insisting she sit in front of the fire with a book, a glass of wine and a blanket.
He didn’t take no for an answer. The only thing he let Caroline do was cook, then wolfed down whatever she put in front of him. They’d made love in front of the fire, in the shower and several times in her bed and she’d slept like a log afterwards.
It felt as if she and Jack had been living in a delightful little Christmas bubble, cut off from the outside world and its cares. But now the outside world loomed, and she had to face it, starting with driving them into town over icy roads with bald tires and no spare.
“Weather looks bad.” She sighed.
“Yeah.” He glanced at his watch with a frown. The doorbell rang. “About time,” Jack muttered, and went to the front door.
Someone was standing there with a form and a set of keys. Behind him, on the street, was a big black Explorer. Jack signed the form and took the keys. When the door closed behind him, he dangled the keys in front of her, and said, “Wheels.”
He bent and gave her a quick kiss.
“What?”
Jack pointed to the Explorer outside. “I rented that for a week, until I can find something to buy. It’s no weather to be driving around with bald tires. I’ll drive you in and drive you back until the weather clears up.”
A couple of days ago, Caroline would have objected, out of pride if nothing else. But she’d almost got them killed Friday night, so she said nothing.
He helped her into her coat and put on his denim jacket.
Caroline fingered his jacket. “You need warmer clothes.”
“Yeah. I’ll buy some today.”
“The cheapest place in town is Posy’s, and the Christmas sales have already begun, so you should get some good deals. Or you could maybe try The Clothes Factory on State Street. They have used clothes, sometimes very good ones. I shop there a lot. I hate thinking of you going out in this weather with only this jacket.”
He looked down at her, eyes dark and unfathomable. “I’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about me.”
Don’t worry. Caroline nearly sighed. Worry had been her middle name for so many years now that she’d forgotten what it was like not to worry.
She looked up at him, hand still on his jacket. She was stalling and she knew why. “I don’t want to go out,” she whispered.
He picked her hand up and brought it to his mouth. “No,” he said simply.
Outside was cold and bleak, another country. A country of problems and hardships. Inside was warm and safe, where nothing could touch her.
Except Jack, of course.
Caroline stepped forward and put her arms around his lean waist and burrowed in. His arms went around her immediately. There was one thing to be said for dressing lightly, she could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. Just like him.
She had a sudden panicky intuition that this weekend had been a mirage. Maybe she’d invented a Jack Prescott out of her loneliness and depression. He’d done nothing but give, filled her with warmth, shown her a sensuality she had no idea existed.
“I can’t tell you what this weekend has meant to me,” she whispered, holding him tightly. The happiness she’d felt seemed to her like smoke, already dissipating in the air. The more closely she tried to clutch it, the more quickly it vanished.
Walking outside her front door scared her, like leaving an enchanted castle to face lions and tigers.
She felt a kiss on the top of her head, and Jack stepped back. His eyes were like dark flames. “We either go now,” he said, “or we go back to bed. Your call.”
Put like that, well…Did she want to spend the day in the bookshop, with maybe three customers all morning if she was lucky, go over her accounts—which always made her wince—longing for the day to be finally over, or did she want to spend the day in bed with Jack, being pampered with fabulous sex?
Tough call.
But she was hardwired for duty, and she had a lunch date with Jenna, so she sighed, and said, “Go now.”
Jack opened the door and ushered her out with a hand to her back. “Spend the day thinking about what you’re going to cook for me for dinner.”
He laughed and evaded her elbow.
Jack was doing one of the hardest things he’d ever done in a lifetime of hard things. He didn’t dump a massive amount of money into Caroline’s bank account. Did not did not did not. He had to grit his teeth to keep from doing it, but he managed.
He was at a Summerville bank. It didn’t matter which one—he’d chosen it because it was next door to a Starbucks, so he could go to the bank and get a good cup of coffee at the same time. The important thing was that it wasn’t Caroline’s bank.
He knew which bank she kept an account in. He also knew how much money was in that account, and he knew how big her debt was. She banked at the Central Savings & Loan, she had less than $1,000 in her checking account—almost $2,000 with his month’s rent and deposit—and she was $354,759 in the red.
Caroline was entirely too trusting. Her bank records were kept right out on her desk for all the world to see.
Knowing she had essentially nothing except debts, he deliberately chose another bank, any other bank, because if he went to hers, the temptation would be overwhelming simply to shift money from his account to hers.
A million, two. Hell, even three, what did he care? He had more than enough for his needs for the rest of his life, and it would be worth every penny to see those slight frown lines caused by money worries disappear.
Well, all in due time. It would happen, just not today. Caroline was no dummy, and it wouldn’t be hard for her to connect him appearing in her life together with a large sum of money showing up in her bank account.
His turn up at the window. There was a perky brunette, who made no attempt to hide her interest.
“Yes, sir? May I help you?”
He’d take care of diversifying in stocks and bonds later. For now, he just wanted to dump the money in an account.
“Yes, I want to open a bank account and get a safe-deposit box.”
The smile was frankly flirtatious now. “Yes, sir. Please fill out this form. We’ll need your address and telephone number. Will you be making a cash deposit or check?”
“Cashier’s check.”
Jack filled the form out quickly, putting Caroline’s address and phone number down. He slid it across the counter together with the cashier’s check for $8 million and change.