Pregnancy of Revenge

by Jacqueline Baird

  The sudden slight pain had caught Charlie by surprise, but was instantly forgotten as Jake stroked deeper, and in that moment she lost it completely. She cried out loud. 'Oh, yes, Jake, yes,' at the incredible sensations convulsing her slender body with a fierce pleasure that shattered all her innocent illusions, and left her shuddering in ecstasy. So this was...it. But the thought never fully formed, as Jake plunged harder and faster in a wild, primitive rhythm that drove her higher and higher.

  Charlie clung to him in a fever of need, oblivious to the fact her nails were digging into his flesh. She felt as if he were lifting her out of herself to a realm where nothing existed but his hot, hard body filling her, possessing her. And she was totally unaware of the breathless plea for more escaping her as he captured the erotic sound with his mouth. She felt his great body shudder violently, and she cried out his name as wave after wave of explosive sensations swept her into an ecstatic oblivion.

  Slowly Charlie opened her eyes. Jake was collapsed on top of her, his eyes closed. But even so she smiled mistily up at him. So that was it, the little death she had read about, and it was all, and much, much more than she could have ever imagined.

  Their bodies were damp with perspiration, their hearts thundering in the aftermath of passion, and a deep sense of peace washed over her. Jake was the man she was born for, she thought dreamily.

  'Grazie, Charlotte,' Jake murmured close to her ear bury­ing his face in the silken, fragrant mass of her hair for a moment. "That was fantastic.' He smoothed the tumbled hair from her brow. 'I was right, you are some woman.' He eased his heavy body from hers, and from the bed.

  'Don't go.' Charlie murmured, reaching out a hand to him.

  'Don't worry, I am not going far.' Jake stood, unasham­edly naked, looking down at her. 'I am only going to the bathroom to dispense with this and replenish supplies. Unless you would like to do it for me,' he suggested teasingly.

  Sprawled on the bed totally naked, she looked dazedly up into his grinning face, registering the black hair flopping over his brow, the smouldering eyes, and the wickedly mas­culine mouth. He was utterly gorgeous and he was hers. Her eyes roamed leisurely down the naked length of him and only then did the import of his words sink in.

  "No, I don't think so,' she squeaked. Of course he had used protection—it was nothing to he embarrassed about, in fact she should be grateful, but it did not stop her blushing scarlet and dragging the sheet up over her naked body.

  Jake let out a bark of laughter. "You're incredible—sex on legs and verbal with it, and yet you blush like a school­girl.' He shook his dark head. "That is some trick.' And he headed for the bathroom

  Charlie didn't know whether to be flattered because he thought she was incredible and sexy, or affronted because he thought her blushing was a trick. If only, she thought ruefully. Blushing was the bane of her life. Perhaps now she was truly a woman the blushing would cease, and that led her to another thought. How come Jake hadn't realised he was her first lover? Not that it mattered; she was quite flat­tered that he seemed to think she was experienced. She had a sneaking suspicion that if he had known the truth he would not have touched her, and it crossed her mind to wonder how old he was. Mid thirties, she guessed, with a great body. A body she now knew in every intimate detail, à reminiscent smile curved her soft mouth that quickly changed into a triumphant grin. At last she was truly a woman—Jake's woman, she thought, a sense of euphoria sweeping through her. The sheet forgotten, she punched her arms up in the air. "Yes, yes, yes!'

  Jake strode hack into the bedroom, a towelling robe tied loosely around his waist, and stopped. With her blonde hair cascading down her back, natural he now knew, and her beautiful face devoid of make-up she was punching the air like some crazed cheerleader when her team scared a goal.

  She was the most naturally sexy woman he had ever known, and he was a long way from finished with her yet. But she looked about sixteen, and he found himself grin­ning. 'Is that yes for me?' he asked with a chuckle, which quickly turned into a shout of laughter as her startled blue eyes swung towards him, and she dived back beneath the covers.

  'No. Yes. I mean, maybe ' Charlie babbled, appalled he had caught her acting like an idiot instead of the sophisti­cated lady she wanted to appear.

  'Well, make your mind up, cara,' Jake prompted. I’m hungry ' It wasn't food he had in mind with her beautiful hair spread across the pillow, and her face scarlet with em­barrassment he had the oddest urge to protect her—and, as the instant stirring in his groin reminded him every which way.

  The thought disturbed him and his heavy brows drew to­gether in a frown. His initial plan had been simply to get Charlotte into bed and then dismiss her. But it hadn't worked out quite like that. With her exquisite body shud­dering beneath him, her silken sheath so hot, so tight, the restraint he had imposed upon himself had deserted him completely. A captive to his own desire, he had taken her with a driven power he was helpless to control, and when she had convulsed around him, sobbing his name, he had gone with her, something that rarely happened to him.

  Even now he was itching to slip back into bed beside her and start all over again. No wonder Anna had been so be­sotted with Robert Summerville. If the man had been any­thing like the natural-born sensualist his daughter was, it was not surprising Anna had become addicted to the man.

  Remembering Anna and the way Charlotte had hurt her by refusing to meet her stopped Jake in his tracks. The Charlotte he had spent the day with and just made love to didn't seem to be a selfish bitch, but then experience had taught him women were great deceivers.

  'I'll go and order dinner. Join me when you're ready,' Jake said bluntly, and, spinning on his heel, he left the room.

  Charlie stared at his back, shocked by his abrupt depar­ture. She had behaved like an overgrown schoolgirl. No wonder Jake had opted for food. Still, the night was young, she thought, a secret smile curving her swollen lips, and Jake was her lover. She stretched in preparation of rising from the bed. A shower, food, and Jake again... sounded good. Rolling out of bed, she collected her clothes and headed for the bathroom.

  It was a splendid bathroom, all veined white marble and mirrors, with a huge glass-fronted shower stall. Reaching into the stall, she turned on the taps. With the water running at a comfortable temperature, she rifled among the luxurious toiletries provided and found aromatherapy soap. A touch of pampering was just what she needed, Charlie told herself, and stepped under the soothing spray, a deep sigh of satis­faction escaping her.

  So this was love. She sighed, let her head fall back and closed her eyes, and began slowly lathering her arms, shoul­ders, and her firm breasts. She stroked the tender skin, and revived the memory of Jake touching her there—every­where—and the incredible power of his passion, and she almost groaned.

  Jake tipped the bellboy, and strode back into the bedroom. The bed was empty, and inexplicably his stomach knotted painfully, and his eyes darkened angrily. She was gone. Then he heard the sound of running water, and common sense prevailed. Of course she was in the shower.

  For a moment there he hadn't been thinking straight, but now he was. Silently he entered the en suite, and for a mo­ment was disorientated, his body tensing at the sight of Charlotte's silhouette reflected several times over in the mir­rored walls. Then he saw her behind the glass screen. Her head was thrown back, her hair falling wet and sleek down her back, and her hands were running over her breasts, her body. He had never seen anything more erotic in his life, but it was the look of sensual pleasure on her beautiful face that aroused him with gut-wrenching speed.

  Charlie didn't hear the bathroom door open. The first in­timation she had she was not alone was when a husky voice declared from behind her, 'Allow me.'

  Her eyes flew open and she spun around, her feet slipping on the tiled floor, and only Jake's arm around her waist saved her from falling. 'What are you doing?' she ex­claimed. He was naked, the water flattening his black hair into a sleek cap, and his dark eye
s burnt with sensual prom­ise.

  'Just what you were doing, my sweet Charlotte.' Some­how he had the soap in his hand and was rubbing it against her breasts. 'Washing you.' He dropped the soap and his hand began to lather the soft bubbles over her swelling breasts. 'Now, isn't that better?' Jake growled.

  'Oh, yes,' Charlie sighed. Her body was hot, and it had nothing to do with the water, and everything to do with a naked Jake pressing her back against the cubicle wall, his hands administering a leisurely soaping to her quivering body. Her breasts felt heavy and swollen, and the straining peaks tautened into hard points of aching need. 'Don't stop.'

  With a throaty laugh Jake bent his head, and took her softly parted lips with a leashed hunger that quickly deep­ened into a hard, possessive kiss. 'I am not going to,' he rasped, and, with all pretence of washing gone, he lifted her bodily and placed her legs around his lean waist.

  'No, I'll fall,' she squealed, and grabbed for his head, linking her arms around his neck. But she didn't fall as his strong hands cupped her hips and in one smooth thrust he filled her. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as her legs locked around him, his swift possession engulfing her quiv­ering body in a wave of crazy excitement.

  Jake growled low in his throat. Passion riding him, he drove hard and fast, and cried out her name as he climaxed with embarrassing speed. Her body shuddered in convulsive ecstasy around him, draining him to the core.

  Gently he steadied her on her feet, his hands almost span­ning her slender waist. She was looking up at him, her gor­geous blue eyes dilated with shock. 'I shouldn't have done that,' he murmured.

  'In the shower,' Charlie breathed incredulously. 'I didn't know you could,' she added, dazed but happy.

  'Apparently around you, anywhere will do,' Jake re­marked, realizing she was nowhere near as experienced as he had thought if she had never shared a shower with a man. Suddenly he wondered just how much she had shared with other men as he recalled her pained gasp the first time they had sex. The uneasy feeling he might have just made a huge mistake made his hands tighten involuntarily around her waist, and he surveyed her with a frown. Her incredible blue eyes were sparkling cheekily up at him, and she had the sexiest body he had ever seen. No, it wasn't possible.

  He shook his dark head, dismissing she notion. 'Actually, I came to tell you dinner had arrived, but I got distracted.'

  'You and me both.' Charlie quipped, and reached up to press a kiss on his jaw. 'But now get out and let me get dried and dressed.' The fact that Jake could be overcome with passion for her made her proud, and fed her confidence in herself as a woman.

  But her confidence took a severe nosedive ten minutes later when she padded barefoot back into the sitting room of the suite. Jake was fully dressed in a white shirt and dark blue pleated trousers, and somehow she felt at a disadvan­tage wearing the same sweater and trousers she had worn all day. He was seated on one of the two sofas with the dinner trolley set between them and he did not acknowledge her at all. It was only when she sat down on the sofa op­posite him that he deigned to glance at her.

  'This is probably not so hot now,' he said, but he might have been talking to a stranger, 'if you don't mind waiting, I can order something else before you leave.'

  Leave. Her heart sank. But she told herself not to be so foolish. Think of the embarrassment if she did stay all night and had to walk through the hotel in the morning. Everyone would know what she had been doing. No, Jake was simply being a gentleman. But then she saw his dark eyes, which held no warmth or tenderness, none of the passion they had recently shared, only a cool reserve.

  She shivered. 'This will do fine.' She gestured to the trol­ley, and wondered why she should suddenly feel such a chill. 'I'm not very hungry.'

  'Good, but you must eat something.' He lifted the covers and portioned some kind of meat casserole and vegetables onto a plate and handed it to her. His mouth smiled but his eyes did not. 'Enjoy.'

  Feeling worse by the minute, Charlie took the plate and stared down at it, sure it would choke her. But she forced herself to eat her mind searching for a reason for his cool behaviour. Perhaps he was just naturally subdued after mak­ing love, she tried to tell herself, but without much convic­tion as she recalled how several times over dinner last night he had behaved in much the same way, a certain remoteness in his dark gaze effectively masking his expression.

  'You're very quiet,' she offered.

  'I'm eating,' Jake said with a sardonic arch of an ebony brow in her direction, and she watched as he dug into the casserole with apparent enjoyment.

  Turning back to her own plate, she swallowed a few more mouthfuls. But it tasted like sawdust in her mouth, and she placed it back on the trolley. It must be her fault Jake was so reserved, but what had she done wrong? Perhaps Jake had seen through her attempt to be sophisticated and was disappointed at her performance in bed. She had read men put great store on a woman's abilities in bed, and Jake was no boy; he must have slept with a lot of women.

  'How old are you?' she blurted, and bit her lip wishing she could take the question back. But at least it got his full attention.

  'Thirty-eight.Probably old enough to be your father.' His voice held a sharp edge of contempt that she could not fail to recognize.

  Suddenly everything became clear and her heart lifted. Jake, her sophisticated, powerful Jake, was feeling guilty about the age difference between them. Impulsively she jumped to her feet and sat on the sofa beside him, resting her hand on his thigh, determined to reassure him. 'Not unless you started before you were a teenager," she said, glancing up at his superb profile. 'I'm twenty-six, hardly a girl-'

  Jake turned his head and looked down at the small hand on his thigh and then up into her smiling face. 'You think there is nothing wrong in an older man taking a much younger woman for a lover?' he asked with such bitterness in his voice that she was shocked.

  'Not if he..." She was going to say loves her but stopped. 'Not if he really wants her and the feeling is mutual. No,' she said carefully, not confident enough to imply Jake loved her. But she did want to convince him his age didn't matter.

  'You honestly believe that.'

  'Yes, of course.' she said firmly.

  'Probably only because you had to put up with a father who had quite a few young lovers. Does it never occur to you other people may not share your views?' he queried with a cynical drawl.

  'No, not really. And as for my father, he was a law unto himself, and I never had to put up with his lovers. I only ever met one,' Charlie said honestly. 'But we're not talking about him, but you.' She found it incredible to believe a man as stunning as Jake should feel vulnerable about his age and yet it endeared him to her all the more.

  'Are we?' Jake said with a sardonic arch of an eyebrow. Charlotte had just confirmed what Anna had told him. She never had to put up with her father's lovers. She was the selfish bitch after all. But as he looked down into her earnest sapphire eyes, and with her hand on his thigh, somehow confronting her with what he knew didn't seem important. Instead he imagined her slender hand gliding up his thigh. Fighting down the sudden jerk of excitement in his groin, he backtracked swiftly. 'If you say so.'

  The veiled statement confused her. 'Well, why else would you mention the age difference?'

  Jake flung her a dazzling smile and put his arm around her shoulders. 'No reason at all, Charlotte, cara. You're right, what is twelve years between friends?' But, looking into his dark eyes, she had the uneasy feeling he was not telling the truth, but simply placating her. Then he tilted her chin with one finger and brushed his lips lightly against hers.

  Charlie exhaled a relieved sigh at the touch of his mouth and eagerly parted her lips and Jake took full advantage, probing the moist depths with a leisurely expertise that squashed all her irrational doubts about him.

  'If I don't get you out of here soon,' Jake groaned against her ear, 'I'll take you on the sofa.'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE image Jake conjured up in
Charlie'S head was explicitly erotic, and sent her pulse rate rocketing. Heat curled in her belly and her slender fingers involuntarily flexed and stroked up his muscular thigh.

  Dark eyes flaring, Jake drew in a harsh breath and leapt to his feet, his square jaw set at a determined angle. 'It is time I sent you home.'

  Blinded by lust, he had already taken her in the shower without thought of the consequences, and, looking into her sultry blue eyes, he had very nearly slid into her hot little body yet again. A warning voice in his head told him he had to regain control of his suddenly overactive libido around Charlotte or he was in danger of making another mistake. 'I'll call you a cab," he said curtly, and surprised himself by trying to soften the abrupt dismissal with the lame excuse, 'I have to work tomorrow.'

  Charlie slumped back against the sofa and looked up at him with wide, puzzled eyes. A moment ago he had been looking at her as if he could eat her alive, but now his eyes were shuttered, and she could sense the disapproval in the firm set of his jaw. What was it he had said, something about working? 'But tomorrow is Sunday,' she murmured inanely.

  A black brow elevated. 'So?'

  The heat in her stomach turned into a cold knot of hu­miliation as it slowly dawned on her she had overstayed her welcome and he was trying to give her a polite brush-off. Rising to her feet, she avoided looking at him. 'I'll just be a minute. I need my shoes and bag from the bedroom, then I'll leave you in peace.'

  As she attempted to walk past him Jake closed a strong brown hand around her wrist and prevented her from mov­ing away. He saw the hurt she could not hide in her ex­pressive eyes and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  'Peace is not something I will ever associate with you, cara,' he said with a rueful shake of his dark head. Wanting her was a weakness. He had every reason to dislike her, but she turned him on like no other woman he had ever known, and he'd wanted her from the minute he had set eyes on her. He still wanted her and only a fool turned down what she was offering. He was no fool, though he had been acting like one for the past half-hour, torn between conscience and chemistry. Chemistry won as Jake curved her own wrist around her back and drew her close to him again. 'Your effect on me is quite the opposite, and I like the way you make me feel.'