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Jake muttered something and told her to stand up and get moving. When she didn’t, he grabbed her hand, tugged her to her feet and propelled her out of the library, past stunned faces, onto the street and into a cab.
She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t talk to him, but that was okay. He didn’t have anything he wanted to say to her, either. Actually, he was so hot with rage he figured it was better if he kept quiet.
What kind of woman was she, that she’d go from his bed to Estero’s? How could he have thought he loved her? That he had thought it, if only for a little while, proved how screwed up this whole crazy thing had become.
Well, he knew how to solve that problem.
Let her marry Lucas. What did it matter to him? She wanted Lucas, she could have him. The minute they were home he’d tell her that.
Except he didn’t get the chance. They got into his apartment, she rounded on him like a tigress.
“How could you have done this, Jake Ramirez? Damn it, how could you?”
Jake stalked past her, stripping off his coat and jacket, tossing them wherever they fell, and switched on the light in the kitchen. What he wanted was another stiff belt of whiskey, but that seemed unwise. He decided to settle for a mug of the morning’s coffee, reheated in the microwave.
“You ruined everything,” Cat said as she stormed after him. “Nobody will marry me now. Lucas will tell every last Brazilian in the city what you did and that’ll be that.”
“Stop worrying,” Jake said coldly. The nuker pinged; he took out the mug of coffee and took a long, bitter swallow. “I’ll call Estero in the morning, tell him I made a mistake—that he can have you under whatever terms you like.”
“You couldn’t listen, could you? Couldn’t wait long enough to let me talk!”
“Did you hear what I just said? I’ll phone Estero in—”
Cat flung her purse at him. It hit the mug and hot coffee spilled over his hand. Jake hissed and dumped the mug on the counter.
“Did I burn you? Good. I’m delighted.”
That was what she said, even as she grabbed Jake’s hand and glared at it. It didn’t look burned, but if it were, so what? Boiling in oil was what he deserved. Still, she wasn’t heartless. Only Jake could lay claim to that, she thought grimly, and tugged him toward the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped, depressing the lever on the ice-dispenser in the door. “I’m getting ice for your hand. Not that you deserve it. I just don’t want inflicting an injury on you on my conscience.”
“I don’t need ice, and you didn’t injure me.”
Cubes dropped into her hand. She dumped them into Jake’s palm and closed his fingers around them.
“No?”
“No. My hand hurt already, from…It hurt, that’s all.”
“It hurt because you had to play macho maniac and hit poor Lucas in the jaw.”
“Poor Lucas will survive—and that’s enough ice. You want to freeze my fingers off?”
“I want to kill you,” Cat said succinctly. She let go of his hand, slapped her hands on her hips and faced him. “If only you’d listened, Ramirez, you’d have known that you had things wrong.”
“The only thing I had wrong was letting myself think I was in l—”
He stopped, horrified at what he’d almost said—at the terrible truth of what he’d almost said. Because even now, damn it all, even now he still loved her.
“When you let yourself think you were in what?” Cat said, staring at him.
Jake turned away. “I let myself think I was—I was in a position to help you. Well, I can’t. Not the way I intended, anyway. But that’s okay. You helped yourself tonight. I told you, I’ll call Estero, tell him he can do what he wants—Hey!”
Cat landed a fist like a hammer-blow between his shoulders. Jake swung toward her.
“Don’t push your luck,” he said. “The mood I’m in—”
