Pregnancy of Revenge

A cynical light gleamed in the dark eyes that met hers. 'Prego. Eat, enjoy, and we will talk.'

'I don't see we have much to talk about. You said it all last night.' She drank the tea, and replaced the cup on the tray. She didn't want to talk; she didn't want to look at him. Charlie felt as though a veil had been torn from her eyes last night and for the first time since she had met Jake she had seen him in his true colours. He was a ruthless, hard­hearted bastard who hit back at anyone who crossed him, as he perceived her father had—and her as well.

'Last night I said too damn much.' Jake snorted disgust­edly. 'But the past is dead and buried with your father and Anna. Surely you can see that?' he asked seriously. 'We were married yesterday. Forget last night and let us start again.' Sitting down on the side of the bed, he covered her hand where it lay on the coverlet with his much larger one.

The sensual warmth of his touch triggered an immediate response in Charlie that filled her with dismay and a rising anger. Hastily she jerked her hand away, and, taking a deep calming breath, she raised her head. Blue eyes clashed with black and for a moment she was stunned by the tenderness in Jake's expression—but then, he was a great deceiver, she reminded herself.

'You might find it convenient to forget last night, but I never will. I must have been stark raving mad to marry you. You are a devious, rotten liar.' She had behaved like the world's biggest fool, and it hurt, it hurt like hell to know she had fallen so completely for Jake while he had a totally different agenda. But no way was she compounding her folly by continuing with this sham. 'And I want out of this fiasco of a marriage.' The smile left his handsome face and if she hadn't known him better she would have thought he was in pain, but then his dark brown eyes narrowed to angry slits and the air between them was suddenly electric with tension.

'Don't be ridiculous, Charlotte. I—'

She cut him off sharply. 'I'm not being ridiculous, just stating a fact. I want out.'

Nobody called Jake a liar and got away with it, not even Charlotte. 'Never. You are my wife,' he sliced back, his gaze roaming over her beautiful but mutinous face and lower to where the creamy mounds of her breast were tempt­ingly revealed by the slip of blue satin that passed as a nightgown. Jake's control was stretched to the limit. He felt bad about throwing the dress at her last night, but it had been either that or throwing himself on her. He had had such high hopes this morning when he had made breakfast that she would put the unpleasantness of last night behind her and act like a reasonable adult. But if anything she was more determined to defy him than ever, while he was getting more frustrated by the second, as the ache in his groin re­minded him. 'You will stay in my home,' he commanded in a dangerously quiet voice. 'And in my bed. Understand?'

Charlie shivered, her flesh chilled at the deadly certainty with which he voiced his intentions. But she refused to be cowed. She had been a doormat for far too long.

In your dreams. I'm out of here tomorrow.'

'No.' He shook his head.

Succinct and clearly unmovable. She realized it had not been the most sensible time to tell him when she was still in bed. He was staring at her, his chiselled features as hard as stone while a savage, sensual smile played around his mouth. She tore her gaze from his, but a strong hand cupped her chin and turned her back to face him. Her pulse beat a frantic rhythm through her whole body at his touch, and she was horrified at her own weakness.

'I am not staying here with you. Not now.'

His smile was softly derisive. 'You have no choice in the matter. The security around here is superb. You don't leave without my say-so.'

'You can't force me to stay here. You wouldn't dare,' Charlie flung back at him, but she saw the implacable gleam in his dark eyes and knew he would dare anything to get what he wanted.

'I won't have to. I know you, Charlotte. You want the best for our child and you know that is both parents living together in harmony.' Sliding his hand around the nape of her neck, he urged her head forward, and brushed his lips against her cheek. 'I also know you are too proud to return to England and admit failure,' he added and, dipping his head, captured her mouth in a deeply provocative kiss.

In direct opposition to her will, a slow fire began to course though her veins, bringing every nerve in her body to tin­gling life. The seductive pressure of his mouth and her own heated response was totally humiliating and yet when he broke the kiss she felt bereft. Then she noticed where his gaze had fixed and, grasping the sheet, she raised it up over her chest, suddenly aware of the brevit

y of the nightgown she had donned unthinkingly last night.

The dark eyes narrowed knowingly on her flushed face. 'It is allowable, Charlotte,' he mocked. 'You're my wife, the soon-to-be mother of my child. Concentrate on that and we will get along fine.'

Charlie saw the arrogance, the supreme masculine confi­dence in his gaze and her eyes closed against the pain she felt deep inside. She wanted to cry, but her pride would not let her, and pride was all she had left. She opened her eyes. 'Given that according to you I am trapped in this place, it would seem I don't have much of a choice,' she said sca­thingly. 'What do you intend to do, lock me up?'

Jake's expression changed to one of frustrated fury. 'Dio, no! But the way you are behaving could drive a man to it,' he snarled. 'Damn it to hell, Charlotte. How do you expect me to react when you declare you want to end our marriagebefore it has even begun? Over a damned painting—and not a very good one at that!' he added with biting sarcasm.

'A painting you lied to me about the night we met,' she said bitterly. 'You said you wanted it for an investment, dead artist and all that. I believed you because you looked that hard-headed. But I should have guessed you had a deeper purpose, when I saw the mesmerized way you looked at it. I should have left.'

Jake stared at her, and remained silent for what seemed an age. His voice when he finally spoke was menacingly soft. 'Not much of a lie. For any other purchaser it could be the truth. As for being mesmerized—I blanked it out because it felt incestuous to see it. I only looked at it be­cause it was expected of me, as I had just bought the damn thing. I bought it to destroy it before Anna's parents dis­covered its existence. They have suffered enough pain los­ing their daughter, without the added pain of seeing her naked body displayed to the world. And you, Charlotte, might have thought of that before you blithely exposed your father's private collection to the public without having the decency to ask those concerned, simply to make money.'

Charlie found it difficult to swallow the lump that rose in her throat at his reason for buying the painting. It had been a noble gesture to prevent the people he cared about being hurt. But his last comment had confirmed yet again what she already knew: he did see her as a selfish, greedy bitch. Not a good basis for marriage.

Suddenly her pain gave way to angry resentment. She could explain the money was for charity, but the arrogant swine did not deserve to know. Jake was so damned sure of himself—so confident he was right about everything. Not two minutes ago he had been telling her he knew her well. What a joke! 'You assume I am a money-grubber, but youdon't really know me at all,' she said bitterly. He could think what the hell he liked for all she cared.

Jake shook his head in disgust at himself. His image of Charlotte as a calculating woman who had been lucky enough to inherit a business and exploited her father's in­heritance had mellowed in the two weeks they had spent together. Being brutally honest, he would probably have seen the art exhibition as a wise business decision, if it hadn't contained the picture of Anna. And Charlotte's re­fusal of a designer wardrobe and her delight in a soft toy, plus Dave's revelation about her rescue work, had blasted any doubts he had had into oblivion.

'Maybe I don't, but I want to. Which is why we need to talk,' he said quietly, his long, lean fingers tightening the belt of his robe around his waist. Watching him, Charlie had the oddest notion he was nervous. Glancing at his face, her blue eyes met guarded black, and, intrigued, she bit back the denial that hovered on her lips.

'My fault, if you could call it that, was in not revealing the intimate details of people I cared about when we met. And let's be honest, you are as guilty of concealing aspects of your life as I. It took a wedding guest to tell me you were in the mountain rescue team, and Dave's revelation that you worked for him with the International Rapid Rescue Team was a hell of a shock.'

'The subject never came up,' Charlie said defensively, watching him with wary eyes, not sure where he was lead­ing.

'Perhaps we have both been less than open with each other, Charlotte. But as of now it has to stop—along, I might add, with any notion in that crazy head of yours that you will ever risk your life and limb with a rescue team of any kind again.' His eyes were narrowed intently on her face as he paused for a moment. 'We owe it to our unborn child to try and make this marriage a success, and with that in mind the first thing is we forget about the past, and move on from here. We have a lot going for us. We are great in bed to­gether—you can't deny the chemistry is there—and I am a wealthy man. I can provide you with everything you need. Neither you nor our child will ever want for anything. What more could a wife want?' he demanded, and had the bare­faced nerve to smile at her.