Pregnancy of Revenge(45)

She was not his love, never had been, and never would be. She meant no more to Jake than any of the other women who had shared his bed. Less! Because he had as good as admitted he thought she was a greedy bitch, and he had only taken her out to get revenge.

'Charlotte.' He lifted up on one elbow, and looked down at her, his dark eyes gleaming with gentle amusement. 'I know what is the matter. You never ate your breakfast.' He reached out and smoothed the tangled mass of blonde hair from her brow in a gentle gesture. 'My fault again. In your condition you need food at regular intervals.'

'And who made you a doctor?' Charlie sniped back, his tenderness more than she could bear right now. But his reaction stunned her.

'Oh, hell!' He glanced at his watch, the only thing he was wearing, and leapt off the bed. 'I have a meeting later this morning, but first you and I have an appointment with a doctor in exactly forty-five minutes. It won't take me ten minutes to get ready next door, and I'll make you a sandwich—you can eat it in the car, because allowing for travelling time, you only have thirty minutes to get ready.'

'You have some nerve!' He was standing there, unashamedly naked, ordering her around, and Charlie was incensed. 'I am not going anywhere with you.' Her blue eyes blazed defiance. 'Just because we had sex, it does not mean you can tell me what to do.'

'We did not just have sex, and we do not have time to argue yet again. And you are going to the doctor if I have to carry you there.'

A naked man should not be able to look arrogant and threatening, but somehow Jake managed it, Charlie thought helplessly. 'What on earth for? I'm fine,' she asked, curbing her temper.

Jake gave her a hard look, and lashed out, 'What do you think? To confirm the state of your pregnancy, of course. After all, that is why I married you.' He knew he was speaking in a moment of anger, but he had thought everything was back on track between them. Now, looking at Charlotte, he doubted it. 'You have twenty-five minutes,' he flung over his shoulder as he left the room.

He could not have spelt out more clearly why he had married her if he had carved it in stone. And with that knowledge Charlie's heart turned to ice in her breast.



Twenty minutes later, wearing a blue and white patterned chiffon slip dress that effectively skimmed the slight thickening of her waistline and ended just above her knee, teamed with kitten-heeled white pumps and a matching purse, she descended the glass staircase into the hall, where Jake was waiting.

'A punctual woman.' Jake walked towards her and stopped at her side. 'And a very attractive one,' he complimented, subjecting her to a blatant masculine appraisal that made her tummy knot with tension. She hoped it was tension and nothing more primitive.

'If I have to see your doctor, can we go?' she said edgily.

'Sure. Take this.' He handed her a baguette stuffed full of meat and wrapped in cling film. Then a strong hand spread across her back and ushered her out into the brilliant morning sun.

A black limousine was waiting, and a man she had never seen before was holding open the rear door. Jake said something in rapid-fire Italian and the driver responded, and gave Charlie a long assessing look.

'Charlotte, cara, this is Marco.' Jake made the introduction, and Charlie politely shook the man's hand—a hand that was the size of a gorilla's. 'He will take care of you when Tomas is not available.'

'I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need a minder.' She shot Jake a fulminating glance.

'Humour me, hmm?' His hand at her waist urged her into the rear seat of the car and he slid in beside her. 'And eat.'

At least it gave her something to do instead of having to talk to Jake, and surprisingly the sandwich was quite good.

The consultant gynecologist, Dr Bruno, whom Jake took her to see was a small, friendly old man with twinkling eyes. He spoke fluent English and Charlie liked him on sight. He told her he had known Jake for years, from the time his son Paulo and Jake were at school together. Jake was the godfather to Paulo's son and daughter, his much-loved only grandchildren.

But she did not like him quite so much when the examination was over and Jake proceeded to question him on her and the baby's state of health, and he answered in a great deal of detail Charlie could have done without.

'Will you shut up?' Charlie hissed in exasperation and embarrassment as the older man turned to his desk to extract some booklets on pregnancy. 'It has nothing to do with you.'

'The child has everything to do with me,' Jake commented with a sardonic lift of an ebony brow, and continued his conversation with Dr Bruno in Italian, which did nothing for Charlie's temper. At least before she'd known what they were saying, but now she had no idea.

She heaved a sigh of relief when she finally stepped onto the pavement again, but her relief was short-lived as Jake caught her hand and led her towards the limousine waiting by the kerb.