Pregnancy of Revenge(58)

'Amicable agreement?' His dark eyes flared, all trace of uncertainty gone. 'I don't want an amicable agreement!' he growled, once more his arrogant, demanding self. 'What I want is you, and I am trying to tell you I love you, damn it!'

'Oh, yes?' Charlie sneered, not believing him for a moment.

Jake's eyes bored into hers, dark and unfathomable, and a tiny muscle clenched at the edge of his jaw as he attempted to remain in control. 'I do love you, Charlotte. I think I have from the moment I saw you, but I told myself I didn't believe in love.'

'But now you do. How convenient, when I have just told you I am going home.' She tried for sarcasm but her voice wobbled ever so slightly. He sounded so sincere.

'No, love is not convenient, Charlotte. I have learned that much over the weeks we have been together. It is an ache, a hunger, a need that is all consuming. I tried to tell myself you were no different from all the other women I had known. In my heart I knew you were, but I refused to face it,' he said, leaning closer and gently stroking a strand of hair back from her face.

'When I spoke to you yesterday you sounded different, detached, and when you hung up on me—for the first time in my life, I was afraid. I ordered the jet and came straight back, but even then I was not ready to admit I loved you, because I did not fully understand what loving you meant.' He squeezed her hand so tight Charlie almost cried out. 'And then I saw the open gates, the empty house, and the horror scenarios that ran through my mind terrified me. I thought you had gone or been kidnapped, killed, and it was the worst moment of my life, but two minutes later I realised it wasn't when I lifted my eyes and saw you climbing that cliff.'

He was pale, Charlie noticed, but otherwise seemed to be maintaining a tight control. She sensed he was genuinely concerned—but then why wouldn't he be? She was carrying his child. 'You were probably relieved I wasn't kidnapped.' She shrugged, dismissing his fear. 'Think of the money I saved you,' she added nastily.

Jake stared at her, his eyes violent with some inner emotion of such magnitude that it took him a few seconds to successfully mask his expression. 'You think that badly of me?' His voice was bleak and his strong face clenched taut. 'Then you can leave when you like. There is nothing more to be said.' He turned to walk away.

Charlie suddenly saw red. He was doing it again, blanking her out. But this time they hadn't made love, but worse— he had said he loved her.

'Yes, there damn well is!' she shouted. 'You thought that badly of me, remember? A selfish greedy bitch selling her father's paintings for gain. Not so nice when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?' she snarled.

He spun around, his eyes hard as polished jet. 'I never said that, you did.'

'But you thought it,' she lashed back, and he did not attempt to contradict her. 'Well, let me tell you, Mr High and Mighty, all the money from my dad's art is going to the earthquake relief fund. With the agreement of Jess, the only one of his models I met. And as for selfishly refusing to meet your sister, that was my father's idea. I caught him once with Jess and, like most womanising men, I believe— and you should know,' she snapped, her blue eyes flashing fire, 'he was incredibly strict when it came to his own daughter. He didn't want me to meet his women, and whatever tales he told Anna had absolutely nothing to do with me. In fact, you're just like him, over-protective of your sister, and you'll be just as bad with your own child. So you know what? I'm glad I'm leaving. You're nothing but a workaholic, money-mad megalomaniac. And I hate you.'

Charlie swayed back against the pillows as reaction at the day's events and regrets for what could have been hit her badly. She placed a protective hand on her stomach and blinked back the tears that threatened.

For several seconds Jake stared back at her in shock. He felt about two inches tall. He could not deny he had once thought her capable of greed and selfishness and hadn't cared. At the beginning he had been content to have a willing Charlotte in his bed. She was right; he was everything she said he was, and more. He was a coward too, because he had never had the nerve to tell her how he really felt until she had almost killed herself. He was useless at this love thing, he thought, momentarily defeated. Then he saw her protective gesture and the tears she was trying so valiantly to hide, and he almost fell apart. But not quite. Instead he did the one thing he knew he was good at. He strode forward and sat down on the bed.

'You still here?' Charlie tried for sarcasm, but her voice wobbled.

'I am not going anywhere,' Jake said, and just snatched her into his arms.

'No? Well, I am.' She was leaving him, but somehow, held close in his arms, Charlie was suddenly too exhausted to fight him.

'No, you are not,' Jake muttered, and claimed her mouth with a gentle, possessive pressure. 'I am everything you say I am, but I love you, Charlotte.' His hand cupped her chin and she was unable to move. 'I am not very good at this, because I have never loved anyone before.' His mouth moved as soft as thistledown to her eyes, and briefly brushed her lids. 'But I can't bear to see you cry, I can't bear to see you hurt. I can't bear to see you in danger,' he told her forcibly. 'Dio! I love you so much I can't, I won't, let you go.'