Pregnancy of Revenge (20 page)

Restless and on edge, Charlie rose to her feet, and with a thank you to
Marta
she carried her cup of tea outside to the small patio tucked away around the back of the kitchen. A pergola shaded the area, the crimson bougainvillea trailing over it giving Charlie the sense of privacy she needed, and she let the sweet morning air work its magic on her troubled mind.

A week...she had been married a week today, but her wedding day seemed a lifetime away. The woman who had stood in the gardens of the Lakeview Hotel convinced it was the happiest day of her life was no more. A cynical smile twisted her lush lips. Love's young dream was just that—a dream. It had taken Jake to show her the truth.

She never saw him during the day, and dinner was pretty much a silent affair, or a battleground. Jake tried to make conversation but she replied with icy politeness, or with a bitter sarcasm that was totally alien to her usual sunny
na
ture,
until, finally exasperated with her, he retired to his study to work, and she retired to bed.

They shared a bed, but she was beginning to think it was for appearance's sake only, to prevent gossip among the staff. Once or twice she had awakened in the night to find his arm around her, but they had never made love since the morning after their disastrous wedding night. It was painful to have to admit, but she missed the intimacy.

She could see no clear end to the emotional mess she had made of her life unless she learnt to accept her marriage on Jake's terms. Probably thousands of couples lived in a loveless marriage for the sake of the children quite successfully. Would it be so bad?

Sighing, Charlie drained her cup of tea. It couldn't be any worse than what she had now, and it was
her own
fault. She could not forget the anger and hurt she felt, and it showed. Then there was her unborn child to think about—but worrying wasn't going to help either of them, and with another sigh she replaced the cup on the table and leant back in her chair. The silence had a therapeutic effect on her, and slowly she felt herself begin to relax, but that feeling did not last for long. A shadow fell across her face and she looked up to see Jake's tall frame leaning against a timber pillar of the pergola.

She was shocked. He came to bed late and was always gone when she woke up in the morning. But today was different—Jake was different, the cool control of the past week no longer evident. Instead his mouth was tight and she felt the vibration of his underlying anger across the space between them.

'Shouldn't you be out making millions?' she said sarcastically.
'Instead of disturbing my peace and quiet.'

'I'm flattered I disturb you, Charlotte, but don't worry, I am not stopping. I have no desire to spend any more time than I have to with a sulky, immature girl.' Then, surprisingly, in an uncontrolled gesture he ran a frustrated hand through his thick dark hair. 'What the hell is the matter with you?' he demanded harshly. 'This constant sniping that passes as conversation from you has to stop. Can't you lighten up occasionally, or don't you have a sense of
humour
any more?'

'My sense of
humour
is still intact, thank you.' Anger was her only
defence
, but her words lacked their usual force. 'But after discovering on my wedding night that my husband did not love me but married me out of a desire for revenge and the child I am carrying, it is hardly surprising
humour
deserts me around you.'

'Love,' he sneered. '
Dio
,
you are great at throwing that word around like a talisman, but it seems a pretty poor emotion to me that can't forget the slightest misdeed. Not even a deed—a wayward thought is enough,' he added bitterly. 'Give me honor and respect any day.'

Taken aback by his outburst, Charlie tried to defend herself. 'At least I believe in love.'

'You probably have to cling to the illusion with a father like yours, who had no
honour
or respect for women, marriage or anything else,' he said scathingly.

She went pale as his harsh words sliced into her and she linked her hands together on the table to stop them shaking as she recognized there was some truth in what Jake said. With the exception of herself, her father had respected no one, not even himself. He had drunk, smoked and drugged himself to death by the age of forty-six. She drew in a long shuddering breath, finally forced to accept that her dad had loved her in his own way, and that way had included ignoring her for the first eleven years of her life and, if Jake was to be believed, lying about her to his lady friends. Not
the perfect love she dreamed of, and maybe that was her problem—she had expected too much.

Jake bent over and grasped her chin so she was forced to look at him. 'You have told me countless times you love me, but what you really felt for me,
cara mia,
for the first time in your life, was a lust for sex.' His other hand curved around her breast. 'And you still do.'

'No.' Her voice faltered to a halt and her mouth ran dry. His dark, handsome face was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, and she looked away quickly, but not fast enough to stop her stomach curling tightly, and her breast hardening beneath his hand.

Jake's wide mouth curved in a cynical smile and he straightened up. 'Who's
lying
now, Charlotte?' She went from white to red, and he laughed.
'Still blushing.'

'Oh, shut up.' Her frustration boiled over and she lifted her glass to throw it at him. He grasped her hand.

'That is more like the exuberant girl I first met.' He grinned, instead of the sulky silent shrew of the past week.' Dragging her to her feet, he added quietly, 'we could have a good life together, all three of us.' He slanted a glance at her stomach.
'With a bit of goodwill on both sides.'

She opened her mouth to say,
never,
and closed it again.

'Wise woman,' Jake murmured gruffly, and pulled her against his hard body. She saw her own need reflected in his dark eyes and relaxed as his mouth closed over hers in a kiss that was achingly tender. A whole week without the taste of his lips on hers was in her response, and when he finally released her she was left swaying and breathless.

'Your hair is a mess,' Jake commented as he brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. 'But don't worry, we are dining out tonight, and my PA, Sophia, is waiting to meet you in the house. She has kindly offered to take you to town to shop, get your hair done, whatever you women do.'

Slipping his hand in his pocket, he held out a wad of money and a credit card in her name. 'Take this.'

'I don't need your money.'

'I know, and I will never forgive myself for once suggesting otherwise. So take it to save my soul.'

'That's a bit extreme,' Charlie said with a chuckle and took the money.

'There now, that didn't hurt.' Raising one hand, he lightly tapped her cheek. 'You have finally found your smile again, Charlotte. There is hope for us yet.' Grasping her hand, he led her back through the kitchen and into the hall.

Charlie took one look at the small elegant brunette waiting in the hall and felt terrible again. The woman was immaculately clad in what was obviously a designer suit, and Charlie felt like a scruff in comparison in a simple yellow sundress. It didn't help that Jake smiled at the other woman and said something in Italian whereupon they both laughed, and then turned to look at her, still grinning.

'Charlotte,
cara
, this is Sophia, my right-hand woman, and I could not do without her.' Smiling down at the beautiful woman, he added, 'Sophia: my wife, Charlotte.'

Reluctantly Charlie moved forward and took the small hand the other woman held out to her. She said rather stiffly, 'How do you do?' and wondered just exactly how much Sophia did do for Jake. Did it include sharing his bed? But as the woman smiled at her Charlie was struck by the warmth and kindness in her eyes.

'I have to go,' Jake said.
'Tomas
will drive, and Marco will accompany you to carry your purchases so you will be safe in Sophia's hands, Charlotte.'

'Safe or secured?'
Charlie shot back automatically, and felt even worse as she watched a tide of dark
colour
flood up Jake's face as he moved towards her, and curved a hand around her neck. He was right: she was turning into a shrew.

'Both,' he murmured, his dark head swooping to capture her mouth in a deeply possessive kiss. Only when he felt her quivering response did he trail his lips to her throat, nuzzling her neck. 'Don't you dare try to make our private battle public ever again, or you will live to regret it,' he whispered in her ear before straightening up and smiling down at her. The
humour
did not reach his eyes. 'Let Sophia show you around, listen to her advice and try to enjoy yourself—hmm?' Swinging on his heel, he slammed out of the house.

'Phew.' Sophia wiped her brow with the back of her hand. 'Talk about sparks flying, and I thought my husband and I were bad.' She grinned up at Charlie. 'But you shouldn't be too hard on Jake. He is bound to be a bit over- protective with the woman he loves. Now let's hit the shops.'

Charlie replaced the receiver, a bittersweet smile on her face. Talking to Jeff had restored her spirits a little. It was good to know the hotel was running smoothly and was waiting for her when and if she returned.
Even though it did mean lying to Jeff that her marriage was running just as smoothly.
But all that was about to change, she hoped.

While bathing and dressing for dinner she had come to a decision: she was going to give their marriage a chance. She knew it was partially the result of Jake's passionate kisses this morning, but more than that—his derisory comment about a love that would not forgive the slightest misdeed or even thought had hit home.

Jake was late. He had told her to be ready by seven, and she had been waiting for over ten minutes already. She was nervous, and she strolled into the family sitting room—a misnomer if ever there was one, she thought wryly, glancing around the elegant lounge. Perfectly presented but soulless was a more accurate description, much like her marriage, and it was up to her to do something about it.

'Your trip was a success?' Jake leant back against the doorjamb, and noted the slight thrust of her chin, the cool expressive features as she faced him. He suppressed a faint smile at the sleek, upswept hairstyle that ended with a purposely contrived bunch of wild curls on the top of her head. Very elegant, very chic: the many facets of his lovely wife were a source of constant fascination to him, though he would never admit it. One minute, playing with young
Aldo
in shorts and shirt, she looked like a teenager. He knew because every night he had studied the security videos of them exploring the grounds. Then in the evening, cool and reserved opposite him at the dinner table, or, best of all, curled up in his bed, her beautiful face relaxed and innocent in sleep. He could watch her for hours, had done...

His loins stirred and he shifted away from the door willing his wayward libido under control. No, now was not the time. Tonight he was hosting a dinner party in an exclusive country restaurant that had been hired privately for the evening. He had instructed Sophia to arrange the party a couple of days before his wedding. At the time he had thought it was a great idea, a second reception to introduce Charlotte to all his friends. He had hoped it would be a wonderful surprise for her; now he only hoped they got through the night without her obvious antagonism showing.

'If you call being trussed up like a dog's dinner a success, then yes,' Charlie said wryly. The dress was a brilliant blue, which matched her eyes, and had a scooped neck with very short sleeves whose sole function was to hold up the princess-line bodice because the back was virtually non-existent to her waist. Sophia had assured her that her tummy didn't show and the dress, which ended above her knee, was the height of fashion. She had also approved the three-inch stiletto-heeled sandals that accentuated the length of her legs.

'You are no dog, Charlotte.' Jake grinned, his dark eyes gleaming with male appreciation. 'Sophia has done a good job. You look exquisite, the epitome of sophisticated young woman. Now prove you can act like one. Bring me a whisky on the rocks, upstairs—I'm going to get changed.'

She was about to refuse, but as she studied his handsome face with its dark eyes set beneath hooded lids and the almost permanent tightness that seemed to have taken control of his
chiselled
mouth she
realised
he looked tired. 'Okay.'

Charlie poured the amber liquid over ice cubes, and, lifting the crystal glass, she rotated it in her hand, her mind prey to conflicting thoughts. Ordered to serve her
master,
or a much-needed pick-me-up for a hard-working husband? For the first time since her wedding night, she allowed compassion to cut through her fierce pride, and slowly made her way upstairs.