Pregnancy of Revenge (4 page)

'So tell me, have you any other family?' Jake asked casually as they both tucked into their first course.

'My mother died when I was eleven, my grandmother when I was seventeen and my grandfather three years later. My father was an orphan, so I'm alone in the world now he's died.'

'With a father like yours, can you be certain of that?' Jake queried sardonically.

'Yes, I'm certain.' She glanced up, surprised by his cynical question, and thought she saw a bitter look in the dark eyes, but she must have been mistaken, as the next moment he grinned.

'Ah, another illusion bites the dust. I should have known the exploits of your father were more fiction than fact— probably circulated to increase the price of his work.'

'Well, I don't know about that,' Charlie murmured, push
ing her empty plate away. There was something in the tone of his seemingly jocular comment that struck a discordant note and made her wary. Plus she was not comfortable talking about her father or about money.

'No, of course you wouldn't,' Jake agreed smoothly, and for the rest of the meal he endeavored to keep the conversation general while trying to discover more about the woman before him. Though he was loath to admit it, Charlotte was beginning to intrigue him more than any woman he had met in a long time.

For Charlie the next hour passed in a hazy bubble of happiness. Jake was a great conversationalist and, without her
realising
it, she had soon told him where she lived and how, after the death of her grandmother, she had left school to help her grandfather run the small family hotel overlooking Lake Windermere.

'And you inherited the hotel, of course,' Jake prompted when she fell silent for a moment.

'Yes. Yes, I did.' The thought of the family she had lost dulled the sparkle in her eyes for a moment.

'Lucky you,' Jake said. Charlie frowned and she was about to argue there was nothing lucky about losing one's family, when he added, 'But I was very lucky in a way,' and to her surprise proceeded to tell her more of his own past. After the death of his mother when he was eight, he had been placed in an orphanage and got involved with a bad crowd. But miraculously he had been fostered at the age of ten by a man whose pocket he had tried to pick. It had saved him from a life of crime and had been the incentive he had needed to study and become a marine engineer, and owner of his own company. His foster-parents were still alive and he visited them regularly.

Charlie simply beamed at him, and thought how kind. He must have a very caring nature.

Also a very sensual nature, because as they ate the meal and drank the bottle of champagne Jake subtly managed to keep her in a state of simmering sexual tension.
A forkful of his food offered to her willingly parted lips, a casual touch of his hand, an intimate smile. By the time they got to the coffee stage Charlie was unaware she had consumed the lion's share of the champagne, and as she spooned sugar into her cup and added cream any resistance to his sophisticated charm was well and truly vanquished.

'I am glad to see you are not one of these women who have to watch their figure all the time,' Jake said, glancing at her coffee cup, then allowing his gaze to glide slowly up over her high firm breasts and to her beautiful if slightly flushed face. A lazy smile curved his sensuous lips as his dark eyes finally met and held Charlie's. 'Though it is well worth watching—quite perfect,' he declared throatily.

She recognized the male appreciation and the suggestion of more on offer in his gleaming dark eyes. She wasn't totally naive; she had experienced sexual chemistry before, but never as potent as this. Her pulse started to thud under her skin, and instinctively she lifted her hand to the hollow at the base of her throat. Her tongue slipped out to lick over her suddenly dry lips and she saw Jake's gaze drop to her mouth, and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

'Let's get out of here,' he commanded suddenly, rising to his feet and dropping a pile of notes on the table. He reached a hand around her upper arm and almost hauled her to her feet, muttering something in Italian under his breath.

'Why the rush?' she queried as he hustled her out of the restaurant, tension in every line of his long body.

'Don't pretend you don't know, Charlotte,' he
said,
his voice raw and thick with a sensual hunger that made Charlie shiver. Then he dropped her arm and curved his own around
her waist in a possessive hold that thrilled and slightly frightened her as he led her to the car.

'Get in,' Jake said, wrenching open the passenger door and guiding Charlotte inside. Walking around the bonnet, he wondered what the hell he was doing. He had nothing but contempt for her type of woman, and yet he found her incredibly desirable. To his unemotional, analytical mind it did not make sense. But right now all his thinking processes seemed to be centered below his waist, and the quicker he got her into bed, the quicker his problem would be solved.

Alone for a moment, Charlie began to wonder what on earth she was doing, but seconds later, when Jake slid into the driving seat and reached for her, she knew.

His hand slid around the back of her head as he covered her mouth with his, his tongue thrusting between her softly parted lips with a hunger that awakened the same fierce need in Charlie.

She slid her hands around his neck, all of a sudden wild with wanting something she had never had. Her fingers tangled in his thick dark hair, and her entire body trembled as one strong hand stroked down her throat and over the proud swell of her breasts. His dark head lifted and her dazed blue eyes meshed with molten black. 'Jake.' She breathed his name.

It had been a very long time since any woman had turned Jake
d'Amato
on so fast or so fiercely. Hard as a rock and hurting, he felt her tremble, heard the plea in her tone, and he wanted to rip the all-encasing black dress from her body and take her hard and fast. But while his hot-blooded nature was urging him to do just that, the sound of a police siren growing to ear-splitting levels brought him back to his senses.

His dark head jerking up, he saw the police car flash past.

He cursed under his breath in Italian and, thrusting Charlotte back against the seat, he slammed back in his own.

'Damn!' He ran a hand through his dark hair, and glanced at the woman beside him. 'I haven't made out in a car since I was a teenager, and now twice in one evening.' His accusing eyes swept over her beautiful, bemused face, and lingered on her softly swollen mouth, and he almost groaned out loud.

'I never have,' Charlie breathed honestly, slowly surfacing from the whirlpool of passion that had engulfed her.

Jake stared down at her, shocked at her revelation, and he almost believed her. No, it couldn't be true. Her father had been a master seducer. Different gender, but it was obvious she had inherited his talent, as his taut body was painfully confirming. With a less than steady hand he jabbed the key in the ignition and started the car. He was furious with himself, but even more so with the blue-eyed siren who was causing him to act so out of character.

'Where are you staying?' he demanded. If she had told him, he had forgotten—most unlike him. He knew she lived in and owned the Lakeview Hotel, but as for where she was staying in London, he had no idea. Jake breathed in deep. He was a man who prided himself on always being in control, and the knowledge she could shake that control only increased his inner anger still further.

The rasping edge to his deep voice sent a shiver through Charlie, and through her bewilderment she managed to retain enough hold on reality to ask herself what she was doing kissing a relative stranger. She straightened up in the seat, shocked by her own reckless behavior. 'Dave, a friend of mine, has lent me his flat while I am in London.' She rattled off the address in what she hoped was a cool voice.

'Nice location,' Jake said
,
his teeth clenching as he changed gear with less than his usual fluency. That left him
no longer in any doubt there was a man in her life—a wealthy man, it would seem, if he owned an apartment in that area. It wasn't surprising; it only confirmed what he already suspected. Like father, like daughter. A woman like Charlotte was never going to be without a man for long, and the thought did nothing for his temper.

'But perhaps you would prefer a nightcap at my hotel before I take you home?' His original intention had been to move slowly, hoping to enthrall her, the way her father had Anna. But now his only intention was to get her into his bed as soon as humanly possible, and keep her there until the memory of any other man was wiped from her mind. And at the same time cure his own irrational need for a woman whom by nature he should despise.

Colour
swept Charlie's face. Was that the equivalent of, 'Your place or mine?' Whichever, she wanted to cry,
Yes
! —
And it shook her to feel so vulnerable. She was hopelessly out of her depth and sinking fast. She had never met a man like Jake before.

Charlie had grown up in a home full of adults, and she had to some extent been left to run wild around the mountains and crags of her beloved Lakes. Her hobbies were sailing and rock climbing. She was a member of the local rescue team, and also of the International Rapid Rescue Team. With a good manager to run the hotel on a day-to- day basis, Charlie took care of the accounts and it worked out well. She kept her gear packed at all times at
home,
and simply postponed the paperwork when she was needed elsewhere.

She had recently returned from a trip to Turkey, where she had helped in an earthquake recovery, and gone straight into the hectic Easter holiday at the hotel. The two weeks she was spending in London were at the suggestion of Dave, her team leader. He thought that with the recent death of
her father and running two jobs, she needed a complete change.
Time to take an ordinary holiday, instead of being at the beck and call of other people all the time.

Charlie had agreed. She had visited hot spots all over the world, but now she was taking the chance to visit some of the highlights of her own capital city, something she had never done before.

As for men, she knew plenty on a professional level, but they all treated her as one of the boys, which was how she liked it. Glancing at Jake's perfectly chiseled profile, she realized that never in a million years could she think of him as one of the boys. In fact, she had trouble thinking at all around him.

The car came to a smooth stop, and Jake turned slightly in his seat, his black eyes gleaming with intent, capturing hers. 'So what is it to be—a nightcap? This is my hotel.'

She knew what he was offering, and it wasn't just a drink. The air in the close confines of the car positively crackled with sexual tension as he waited for her answer and suddenly Charlie was afraid. She tore her gaze from his and glanced out of the window. It was a very plush hotel, one of the best in the city, and she knew
she couldn't do it...not yet
.

'I think I have had enough to drink,' she said carefully, 'Thank you all the same.'

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and she wondered if he was angry. But as she watched he shrugged his broad shoulders.
'Your decision.'
Dropping a brief kiss on her brow, he turned and started the car before adding, 'I will pick you up for lunch tomorrow at twelve,' his attention on the road ahead. 'And we can move on from there.'

'Can we indeed?' she shot back. 'It would be nice to be asked instead of told.' But there was no bite to her words; secretly, she was relieved her attack of maidenly modesty
had not ruined her chance with him after all. 'I'm here on holiday, following the tourist trail, and I intend to visit the British Museum tomorrow.'

Jake's every masculine instinct had been screaming out at him to persuade her into his bed, but the almost frightened look in her blue eyes had disconcerted him. She might be selfish and money-grubbing in her love affairs—in his experience, most women were—but it didn't necessarily follow she was promiscuous. Jake was very choosy himself. He preferred to pick his lovers with care and his affairs were always as discreet as he could make them, given his high profile in the international business world.

The only reason he was without a lover at the moment was, ironically enough, because of Charlotte's father. His death had created a set of circumstances that had kept Jake at home in Italy and caused him to neglect his last lover, Melissa, a New York model, who had therefore moved on to another wealthy man.

It hadn't surprised him. Melissa had been a high- maintenance lady, he thought cynically as he stopped the car outside the apartment block, and slipped out to open the passenger door.

'Come on, Charlotte, I will see you inside.' He reached for her hand. 'And there I promise to leave you until tomorrow,' he reassured her with a dry smile. 'And before you argue—' he placed a finger over her lips '—we will do both.
Lunch and the museum.'
Fingers entwined, he walked her to the lift. Again he registered the wariness in her incredible eyes, and grinned. Little did she know she was in no more danger from him
tonight.
He drew the line at making love to her in a bed she had shared with another man.
'Until tomorrow.'
He kissed her brow and left.