Pregnancy of Revenge (11 page)

A slow, sensual smile curved her warm mouth. Well, perhaps not that cold. Her mind was made up. She loved Jake and it was up to her to chip away at the glass until she pried the loving, caring man she knew he could be free.

Standing up, she ran a comb through her hair—there wasn't time for anything else—and, smoothing the skirt down over her waist and hips, she picked up her shawl and purse and turned towards the door.

Jake was standing where she had left him in the middle of the room, turning the paperweight over and over in his hand. He swung around, his hooded eyes gleaming with a brightness that looked almost like tears.

'You like it.' She smiled, and Jake's reaction was peculiar.

He placed the paperweight on the table and walked slowly towards her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and said in a low voice husky with emotion, 'Thank you for the gift,

Charlotte.
I will treasure it always.' Very gently he pulled her against his hard body, and lowered his head to hers.

The kiss was like no other kiss they had shared. It was soft and unbearably tender and went on and on. She lifted her free hand to curve around the nape of his neck, but his head lifted and he released her with a small sigh.

'I promised you the theatre and we will be late,' he offered by way of explanation. Taking her
pashmina
from her hands, he wrapped it around her shoulders. 'You look beautiful, absolutely stunning.' His dark eyes gleamed with amusement and something more sensual. 'But that is one dangerous gown and you are one dangerous lady. And I am not letting you out of my sight.'

They were too late to catch the first act, but were allowed to enter the auditorium for the second act. At the intermission Jake ordered her a glass of champagne. Leaning against the bar, dark eyes gleaming enigmatically down at her, he said, '
So
, what do you think of it so far?'

'Honestly?' She quirked an elegant brow at him it would not have made a blind bit of difference if we had seen the first act. The play is totally incomprehensible. And as for the poor young boy with the bandy legs who keeps appearing in what I suppose is a loincloth, but looks like a nappy—what on earth was his mother thinking of putting him on the stage? He could be traumatized for life.'

Jake threw back his head and laughed out loud. 'Brutally honest,' he said. 'But I couldn't have put it better myself. Let's get out of here and find somewhere to eat.'

The following day Charlie left Jake sleeping for a change. She showered and dressed carefully in more new additions to her wardrobe. Natural linen trousers with a matching tooled leather belt hung low on her hips, a figure-hugging camisole almost met the trousers, and a loosely tailored
jacket completed the outfit. She left the jacket off, and ordered room service. When the waiter arrived she took the trolley from him and wheeled it into the bedroom.

Sprawled flat on his back across the bed, naked except for the sheet that just about covered his thighs, Jake was a tempting sight, and for a long moment she feasted her eyes on him. Black hair
dishevelled
and with an early morning shadow darkening his jaw, he looked like a pirate. All he needed was a gold earring, Charlie thought dreamily.

'Are you going to give me that coffee some time today?' One dark eye opened and Charlie nearly jumped out of her skin.

'You're awake.' She pushed the trolley nearer the bed. 'I thought you might like breakfast in bed.'

Jake hauled himself up on one elbow, his dark, sensuous gaze skimming over her face. 'I would if you were going to join me,' he offered lazily.

'No way.
Much as I love you, you promised me the day out,' she shot back. 'And I'm holding you to it.'

His eyes darkened and then became hidden beneath the sweep of his lashes, and she realized what she had just said. But she refused to be embarrassed. It was the truth and Jake could accept it, ignore it, or tell her to get lost. She was tired of trying to play by his rules and she wasn't hiding how she felt any more.

'Then pour me a coffee, and I'll be yours in no time at all.' Obviously he was going to ignore her declaration of love, but at least he had not told her to get lost, which was some consolation. She handed him a cup of coffee and left.

Two hours later, Charlie stood on the balcony of a penthouse apartment situated on the bank of the River Thames, and looked around her, absorbing the stunning view of the city spread out before her. She was a country girl at heart but she could certainly get used to this. Her lips twitched
in the beginnings of a smile as she turned to go back inside.
Fat chance.

She walked across to where Jake was leaning over a table, studying a blueprint. 'Are you really going to buy this apartment?' she asked.

'Actually, I was thinking more of the whole building.' Jake cast
her a
sidelong glance and straightened to his full height, it's an excellent long-term investment. But as it happens, this apartment is available, and it might be useful to have a permanent base in London.' He lifted an enquiring brow. 'What do you think?'

'I love it.' She felt flattered he had asked her opinion. 'But then, I'm not in your league when it comes to business.'

It wasn't business I was thinking of.' Reaching an arm around her waist, he pulled her to him. 'But from a woman's point of view, would you rather spend time with a man here?' His eyes glinted when he saw her blush.
'Or in a hotel?'

If it was the man I loved, it wouldn't matter,' Charlie responded honestly, her sapphire eyes holding his.

They stared mutely at one another for a long moment, and Jake was the first to break the contact. His arm fell from her waist and he took a step back to lean against the table.
A typical romantic response.
You must know very little about your own sex if you believe that.' She was struck by the sudden cold glitter in his dark eyes. 'Take it from me, most women will run a mile if the man in their life doesn't support them in the manner to which they would like to be accustomed.'

'That is a sweeping generalization,' she said. 'And I don't believe it for a minute.'

'Try telling that to my
ex-fiancée.
She took off like lightning when she realized I wasn't as wealthy as she had thought.'

'That must have hurt,' Charlie murmured.

'No.' Jake took in a controlled breath. 'Her leaving did not hurt at all, and how in the hell did we get onto this subject?' He shook his head and wrapped a strong, lean hand around Charlie's wrist, which he twisted around her back, pulling her in close to his great body. His other hand came up and touched her smooth cheek. 'What is it about you that
makes
me tell you things I don't mean to?'

'My fatal charm,' she replied cheekily. She had learnt more about Jake over the last few days and understood a lot better now why he appeared so hard-headed and controlled.

'You could be right at that,' Jake husked, his dark head bending. Her lips involuntarily parted for his kiss, but instead he whispered in her ear, 'You can prove it later.' He dropped his fingers from her cheek to rest on her hip, his dark eyes laughing down at her. 'As it happens, I already bought this place yesterday. Come on, the rest of the day is for you.'

They spent it at London Zoo and Charlie, with her arm linked through Jake's, for the first time felt as if they were a normal couple. They laughed at the monkeys, and she shivered at the snakes while Jake held her close. They ate sandwiches outside the
café
in the zoo, and when Charlie fell in love with a soft cuddly panda in the gift shop, Jake bought the toy for her. Much later they dined on scampi and chips sitting outside a pub on the river. Jake was convinced that whatever was in the popular English dish had never been in the sea, and they were still light-heartedly arguing on the merits of Italian versus English food when they returned to the hotel. Finally Charlie threw her hands up and admitted that Italian cuisine won hands down, and
Jake took advantage of her position to whip her top over her head...

Sometimes Charlie had to pinch herself to believe he was real, and she told him so early on the Friday of the second week.

Jake laughed lazily, and told her to feel him and make sure. She did, all over. And he called her a natural-born sensualist, and made wild, passionate love to her, until she thought she would lose her mind with the excitement of his powerful body driving her to the edge of sense and beyond.

Exhausted, they lay sprawled together on the bed. She said in a breathless voice, 'Now I know why I love you. And I'm totally convinced you're real.' She spread her fingers through the damp hair on his chest, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart beneath her palm. She heard him chuckle and she pulled gently on the short, curling body hair.

'Find me funny, do you?' she teased. But the telephone rang on the bedside table before he could respond. She watched as he lifted the receiver, and said something in Italian. She felt his body tense, and heard the change of tone in his rich deep voice, even though she could not understand what he was saying.

Ending the call, Jake sprang off the bed, and glanced down at her. 'That was my office in Italy. I have to leave immediately.' Without another word, he headed for the bathroom.

Stunned, she stared at his broad back as he disappeared into the bathroom. She loved Jake and he was leaving. It had to happen eventually, she knew, but blindly she had pushed the knowledge to the back of her mind, not wanting to face reality. Now she had no choice.

Well, what had she expected, for heaven's sake?
she
asked herself. Jake had a huge corporation to run, and her
manager
was expecting her back on Sunday. So Jake had to leave a day earlier than planned. It was no big deal. She would see him again.

Jake strolled back into the room. 'Okay.' He tossed her a brief glance, and proceeded to dress with the same brisk efficiency he did everything.

Charlie had watched him countless times before, but somehow this morning she couldn't. She was too afraid of betraying her misery at his imminent departure. Jumping off the bed, she crossed to the walk-in wardrobe, selected navy trousers and a blue ribbed sweater, then collected fresh underwear and stepped into the bathroom.

Standing in the shower, she told herself not to overreact. If the last two weeks had proved anything, it was that they were great together. She loved him and she felt it in her bones that Jake cared about her. They were both mature adults with busy careers; it was natural they would be apart sometimes.

As she walked into the lounge ten minutes later she was still telling herself she had nothing to worry about.

Jake was standing by the table, leafing through some papers in a briefcase, the expression on his face one of intense concentration. The suitcases by his side told her he had already packed. He was dressed in a dark pinstriped business suit, white shirt and grey silk tie, and he looked every inch the hard-headed tycoon. But she knew the other Jake, the passionate tender lover, and a sob caught in her throat at the thought of him leaving.

She must have made some sound because his dark head lifted and she walked across to him. 'You're already packed.'

'Yes.' Jake placed a brief, somewhat distracted kiss on her cheek. 'I'm sorry I have to leave so quickly, but my presence is required in Italy.'

'I know. But it's a shame we are going to lose our last day together.' She couldn't prevent the slight tremble of her lips.

Jake placed a finger over her mouth. 'There will be other days, Charlotte. I'll call you tonight. Stay here and enjoy your last day.'

Her pleasure at his promise to call her was dented by his suggestion she stay on at the hotel. To be here alone held no appeal. 'No,
I
wouldn't feel comfortable staying here without you. I'll go home.'

'Whatever you want,' he said gruffly. Suddenly a conscience that had never troubled Jake before where women were concerned reared its head. He was the 'love them and leave them' type, the women suitably rewarded of course, but Charlotte was different. Sure, he had lusted after her, but his original intention had been less than
honourable
and he prided himself on being an
honourable
man.

He couldn't just walk away from her. So he did something he never did: he wrote a number on the back of a business card. 'This is my home number in Genoa. If you need me, call me. And now I really must go—the jet is waiting.'