Ian poured his own coffee, then moved to the table and sat close to his wife, staring back at Jaci, his gaze brooding, watchful.
Dressed in black pants and a white silk shirt, his dark hair pulled back from his face to the nape of his neck, Ian Sinclair looked like the finely honed dominant force she knew he was.
“A bit more of an explanation would have been nice,” he suggested. “It’s hard to deflect the problems they could cause without information, Jaci.”
Well, that was one of the more unique attempts to get an explanation from her.
“I don’t need anyone to deflect problems for me.” She pushed the cup back and stared him in the eye.
It wasn’t always easy. Ian’s gaze could be brutally piercing.
“It seems to me that you do,” he stated. “How many jobs have you lost this year because of them?”
“That’s why your deposit is nonrefundable.” Her smile was all teeth. It wasn’t the first time she had been in this position. It wouldn’t be the last. “Would you like me to leave, Mr. Sinclair?”
He merely stared back at her silently as Courtney glared at him. Rather than causing her friend further problems Jaci decided, in that moment, that leaving this job might not be a bad idea.
And after the night before, she doubted Chase or Cam cared where the hell she went.
Jaci rose slowly to her feet, regret laying heavy on her chest, though she made certain it didn’t show on her face. Whatever had happened the night before, it must not have been pleasant. The Robertses usually engaged in guerilla tactics, but if Cam had confronted Richard . . . her heart gave a hard, brutal thump. If Cam had confronted him, it might have been worse than she could imagine. No wonder he had been so pissed when he arrived at the hotel, or that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to sleep with her.
The pain it caused was brutal, stomping on her soul with steelspiked talons.
“Ian.” There was a thread of steel in Courtney’s voice, though her husband only glanced at her broodingly.
“Courtney, your husband has a business to consider,” Jaci pointed out softly. “I promise, it’s not a problem.”
It might very well bankrupt her.
“I can leave now, Mr. Sinclair. As I said, I do understand your position.”
“Did I ask you to leave, Ms. Wright?” he demanded arrogantly. “I believe I asked for an explanation instead.”
“And I’ll give you the same answer I’ve given everyone else who’s demanded that explanation. What happened does not affect how I do my job. I don’t owe you explanations. All I owe you is the option of letting you out of the contract.”
“Without the deposit?” he answered coolly.
“Ian, stop,” Courtney muttered.
Jaci shook her head. What the hell did it matter? As large as the deposit was, in the long run, it wouldn’t do a damned thing to halt the slide of her career. Once knowledge that Ian Sinclair had released her got around, she would never get another job that paid well.
“You’ll have your deposit back within the week, minus my traveling expenses.” She lifted her leather briefcase from the floor and turned, moving quickly for the doorway.
She had to blink back her tears, her rage. It was burning in her now.
“Jaci, wait,” Courtney called softly, but without conviction, as though she were hesitating. Everyone hesitated.
With her head down, she strode to the door, then slammed into a completely immoveable, impossibly hard form.
Hard hands steadied her, gripped her upper arms, holding her closer rather than pushing her away, as her head jerked up and her lips parted on a gasp of anger, maybe of hope. Until she glimpsed the ice in his eyes, the hard expression, the fact that the Cameron she had known was here in body only. The man inside had changed.
“Sorry about that.” She attempted to pull back, to drag herself away from his body, the temptation, the regret. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“I was.” He didn’t let her go.
He had allowed her to plow into him. Just as he had allowed her to cl**ax over and over, before he turned tail and ran. Well, now he could watch while she walked away. Turnabout, and all that bullshit.
“Well, aren’t you just the watchful one.” Her voice was shaking as she jerked out of his grip. “If you’ll excuse me, I was just leaving.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
Her head jerked back to Ian in shock, even as she was aware of Cam’s fingers curling around her arm once again.
“Whatever games you’re playing, I’m not involved,” she said, her voice cold. “I don’t need this job bad enough to play them.”
“Jaci, please.” Courtney rose to her feet, her expression concerned, as her gaze shot to Cameron. “There are things involved that you’re perhaps not aware of.”
“Then I’ll stay unaware of them.” She pulled at her arm, then turned on Cam when he refused to release her. “Let my arm go, Cameron Falladay. I refuse to play your games, either.”
His lips quirked. The scar at the side of his face, slashing over his cheek, whitened as he stared down at her.
“You’ve already lost that option, so let’s play the one facing you instead,” he suggested.
He released her when she jerked at her arm. She barely glimpsed the surprise on his face, as she brushed past him and stalked through the formal dining room to the foyer beyond.
Screw this job. Between the Robertses and her own weakness where Cam was concerned, the potential for destruction was much higher than the effects of bankruptcy.
“Ms. Wright.” The butler, Matthew, moved from the small office between the main mansion and the residential wing, his expression questioning. “May I help you?”
“I need a cab.” A polite smile, a gnashing of teeth. “I’ll be waiting outside for it.”
His gaze glanced over her shoulder, then back to her. “It may take more than half an hour for one to arrive,” he warned her. “Perhaps you could wait inside?”
“I’ll wait outside.”
She moved for the doors, only to come to a rather abrupt stop as a strong arm hooked around her waist, lifted her from the floor, and began to carry her toward the stairs.
“Forget the cab, Matthew,” Cam ordered, his voice cold.
“Let me go, or I’ll have you arrested for assault.”