Beware the Beast

by Anne Mather

  Alex was on his feet, his mouth a thin line. "George is a lawyer," he told her quietly. "I thought you knew that."

  Charlotte's lips parted. "You mean - he drew up the con­tract in the first place? He knows all about it?"

  "Yes." Alex inclined his head. "He's the only one who does."

  "Oh, indeed!" Charlotte pressed her lips together.

  "What do you want, Charlotte? I want to get these papers drawn up. I want to be free of business matters for at least four weeks."

  "Why?" Charlotte stared at him. "Is that how long it takes to get a divorce these days?"

  "A divorce?" Alex came round the table towards her. "What are you talking about?"

  Charlotte backed away. "Divorce! Our divorce ! Don't pretend you don't remember, not with that - that contract in front of you I"

  Alex looked a little paler under his tan. "You — want a divorce?" he murmured disbelievingly.

  "You do."

  Alex's eyes narrowed, .and then with an exclamation, he snatched her against him, pressing her hungrily along the length of his body. "Does this feel as though I want a div­orce?" he demanded thickly. "Dear God, Charlotte, I've tried to keep away from you, to control my feelings, but you try me too far I"

  His mouth smothered any protest she might have made, and the passion of his kisses drowned her resistance. He was kissing her deeply and searchingly, seeming to draw the very heart out of her, and she clung to him desperately, unable at the last to let him go.

  "Well?" he said, resting his forehead against hers. "Do you still want to leave?"

  She moved her head helplessly. "You don't want me to go?"

  "No, I don't want you to go. I love you, Charlotte. I've loved you for a very long time. Long before you even knew I existed."

  Charlotte frowned. "You mean - "

  "I mean I married you because I loved you, because I wanted to look after you, because I couldn't bear the thought of you alone and lonely, possibly finding someone else before I could tell you how I felt."

  Charlotte couldn't take this in. "You mean- you would have married me anyway?" She broke off. "What about those tests?"

  "I didn't even check the results. They were purely to convince you I meant what I said.”

  "But - but why didn't you tell me how you felt? My father-"

  Alex shook his head. "Would you have taken me seriously? A man of my age?"

  "I might have done."

  "I couldn't take the risk. Besides, I didn't have to."

  "Did my father know?"

  Alex pushed her gently away from him. "I knew we'd come to that!"

  Charlotte frowned. "Alex, what happened eight years ago?"

  Alex scowled. "What do you know about eight years ago?"

  "Nothing. That's why I'm asking you. Oh, George said

  something…"

  "George I" Alex looked grim. "I might have guessed."

  "Why shouldn't I be told, if it involves me?"

  "It doesn't involve you. At least only indirectly."

  "Oh, Alexl"

  He came towards her, lifting her chin with his fingers, and looking deeply into her eyes. "Answer me something, do you love me?"

  Charlotte swallowed, and then nodded her head. "You must know I do."

  Alex looked well pleased with her answer. "So - will you accept that whatever happened eight years ago, we love one another? Our life together is only just beginning. That's why I'm making these arrangements. Why I want at least four weeks of freedom. I want to take you away - somewhere where we can be alone together. Where I can show you that my love for you supersedes everything — even my not inconsiderable affection for our son." He shook his head. "The contract is null and void. It wants destroying. I admit, I used it to get what I wanted. I can be ruthless on occasion, as you'll probably agree. But my motives were not entirely selfish."

  Charlotte took deep breath. "But you - you said you had doubts about coming back here after - after - "

  "I know I did. It was the truth. Charlotte, whatever you may have expected, I wanted you to settle down on the island, I wanted us to get to know one another. Taking my wife by force was not part of my plan. But you were so - "He broke off. "Can't you imagine how I felt? Particularly after the way you sent me away. I didn't know if I came back that you might not be forced into doing something desperate. You must admit, you were frightened of me."

  "To begin with," she murmured, touching his hand. "And then afterwards, I was afraid of myself."

  "I knew that," he said gently. "But I still couldn't be sure how you really felt. It was only when I came back this time, when you responded to me of your own volition that I knew - or at least, hoped ..."

  Charlotte passed a confused hand over her eyes. "But what did you mean about loving from me - before I knew of your existence? I never heard - my father mention your name."

  "No." Alex's hand fell to his side. "I don't suppose you did." He paused. "Charlotte, you were twelve when I saw you for the first time. A skinny slip of a schoolgirl, with chunky pigtails, dragging around after a man who should have known better than that."

  Charlotte's eyes darkened. "Please - don't speak of my father in that way."

  "All right, all right." Alex controlled his patience with an effort. "I was what - what? - thirty-three at the time. For ten years I had been running the Faulkner organization. I guess I was cynical and embittered. But I knew you weren't happy."

  "My mother hadn't long been dead," Charlotte defended herself. "Daddy and I were both unhappy about that."

  "Were you?" Alex bit off the words. "Okay, I'll accept that. Well, I guess I began by feeling sorry for you. But as you grew older, my feelings changed. But you were still much too young. You still are. But God help me, I'm a man, not a saint! And I wanted you. I still do."

  "But there were other women?" she ventured.

  "Passing affairs," he said indifferently. "Nothing more."

  "And - and what about Irena?"

  "Irena?" For a minute Alex looked puzzled, then he gave a rueful smile. "Oh, hell, Irena I You surely didn't think I was interested in her?"

  "You danced with her. You let her flirt with you."

  "I know it. And you were jealous." He put a finger over

  her lips when she would have protested. "Objective accom­plished. Mmm?" .

  "You mean ..." Charlotte pushed his finger away. "Oh, Alexl"

  His eyes softened miraculously. "Well? So now the com­plication of the baby is out of the way, what is your answer?"

  "Do you realize he hasn't even got a name?" she exclaimed, playing for time.

  "Provisionally, he's Nicholas Alexander," replied Alex calmly. "Unless you have any other preferences."

  "Nicholas Alexander?" Charlotte echoed the names softly. "Oh, no, I have no other preference. I think those names are just ideal !"

  "Good. I hoped you would. Well?"

  Charlotte knew the moment of truth had come. "You're asking me to take you on trust. To forget about my father's death - his probable suicide - and love you in spite of it?" she said quietly.

  Alex inclined his head. "No easy decision?"

  Charlotte made a futile little gesture. "It shouldn't be. An easy decision, I mean. But -" She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. "Alex, it's no use. I can't leave you. I love you too much."

  "Oh, Charlotte!"

  His ejaculation was stifled in the silky mass of her hair as he hauled her close against him, burying his face in her neck. To her amazement, she found that he was trembling, and realized with an overpowering feeling of love for him that he had been afraid of what her answer might be. But no matter what self-recrimination she might feel, she knew this was where she belonged, and she prayed her father would under­stand, wherever he was.

  They neither of them heard the knock at the door, and George entered to find them in each other's arms. He cleared his throat rather noisily, and with reluctance Alex broke away from his wife.

  "What is it?" he demanded, his impa
tience evident.

  "Vittorio is here. You asked him to come and make the arrangements for taking Nurse Hani back to the mainland."

  "Hell, yes." Alex raked a hand through his hair. "I'd forgotten about that." He moved regretfully away from Char­lotte. "Wait for me here," he asked her huskily, and she nod­ded. "I shan't be long."

  When the door had closed behind him, George indicated a chair. "Won't you sit down?"

  Charlotte subsided into it rather thankfully. Her legs felt none too steady, a combination of her weakness and Alex's lovemaking.

  "I gather you're staying," George added gently. "I'm

  glad."

  Charlotte lifted her shoulders and let them fall again. "I love him," she said simply.

  "And you can have no doubt now that he loves you," remarked George vehemently. "My God, when I think of al these months when he could have told you and didn't. Just to protect your father's memory !! told him he was a fooll"

  Charlotte stiffened. It was apparent that George thought Alex had told her everything. But what did everything consist of? She would not have been human if she had not prompted him to go on.

  "You - you didn't feel it was necessary, then?" she mur­mured ambiguously.

  "No." George strode across to the windows. "Mortimer is dead - whether by his own hand or not is not important. Why should he be allowed to go on influencing the living?"

  "He - he was my father," Charlotte felt bound to say.

  "And what about your mother? Doesn't she deserve your pity?"

  Fortunately George was not looking at her at that moment, or he could not have failed to notice the look of anguish which crossed her face. "My - mother?" she ventured.

  "Yes. Good God, now that you know it was your father's selfishness which caused her heart attack ! Don't you have any pity for her?"

  Charlotte could not absorb this. "I -I - you think that?"

  "I don't think, I - " George suddenly realized what she had said and turned to face her incredulously. "Oh God! He didn't tell you, did he? You've let me go on and you know nothing about it, do you? Alex! Alex, you idiot I"

  "No, please - " Charlotte got to her feet, holding out a hand towards him. "Please, don't be angry with me! But I couldn't help being curious."

  "You mean - you mean - you were prepared to live with Alex without knowing the truth?"

  Charlotte nodded. "If there is something I don't know, then, yes. Yes, I was."

  George shook his head disbelievingly. "Alex said you would. He-said you had no need to be hurt any more. And oh, God ! Now I've ruined everything."

  Charlotte twisted her hands together. "George, you weren't to know. It was as much my fault as yours. You see, I'm not such a blameless character, after all. And - and now you've started, you must go on."

  George bent his head, sighing heavily. "How can I?"

  "How can you not? Please, George. How did my father cause my mother's heart attack? I -I have to know."

  George expelled his breath noisily. "I suppose I must tell you. But if ever Alex finds out..."

  "He won't. Not yet, at any rate. Please - go on."

  George spread his hands in a typically continental gesture, "Very well. Your father was, whether you believe it or not, a compulsive gambler. Nowadays, it's recognized as being as much a disease as drug addiction or alcoholism. But eight years ago it was treated almost lightly. Men gambled and thought nothing of it. Your father was one of them."

  "And my mother?"

  "Eight years ago, your father lost everything - his house, his business, everything. That was when Alex first became involved. Years ago, your grandfather had done some busin­ess with the Faulkner organisation. On the strength of that, your father came to us for a loan. At first, Alex refused. Why not? First and foremost, Alex is a businessman. Your father had no securities, no collateral. But eventually he relented, and granted your father the loan. Unfortunately, so far as your mother was concerned, it was too late. She had dis­covered her husband's debts, and you know what happened."

  "Oh, no !" Charlotte felt chilled.

  "I'm afraid so. Anyway, the loan went through. Your father spun such a tale about his young daughter, how she would have to leave school and so on. Alex agreed to lend him the money providing he gave up his gambling."

  "But he didn't?"

  "No. Alex saw him in Cannes, in Monte Carlo, in St. Moritz. Wherever there were casinos, your father could be found. It was obvious that he was mortgaging properties which did not in fact belong to him. The inevitable happened! Your father was a loser, Charlotte. He was flat broke for the second rime in his life, and his debts were colossal. So he came crawling back to Alex. Can you imagine how Alex felt! Can you? By this time he knew all about you, had seen you, had begun to care what happened to you. That was when the contract was agreed - an infamous contract indeed, but hardly Alex's fault. He simply wanted to protect you, and there was eo other way he could do it. He didn't want to adopt you. That wasn't at all how he felt about you. And anything else would have been open to speculation of the most unpleasant kind. But in the end, your father could not go through with it, apparently. No one will ever really know. Except that that insurance policy stands as witness."

  "But how could they let him take out a policy in his financial circumstances?"

  "What circumstances? Oh, Charlotte, your father knew what he was doing when he came to Alex. Alex had all the agreements for the loans drawn up privately. No one in the city knew that he owned Mortimer Securities. Mortimer Securities!" He gave a short laugh. "What a misnomer that was!"

  Charlotte sank down into her chair again. To think that all these months she had blamed Alex for her father's death. As George said, he should have told her.

  And yet should he ? If she had insisted on knowing the truth before committing herself to him, he might always have wondered whether she had done it out of love - or gratitude. As is was, she was glad she knew the truth, but she was even t the had taken Alex on trust, for the man he was.

  The door opened again, and Alex came back into the library. “Okay,"he said. "He's waiting to have a word with you, George.”

  George nodded and left the room, and after the door had at Charlotte. "Well?" he said. “Have you had second thoughts?”

  Charlotte nodded. "And third and fourth ones," she answered, flinging herself out of the chair and into his arms. "Oh, Alex I I'll do my best to make you happy !" She pressed her face against his chest, loving the feel of hard muscle beneath her cheek.

  "Hey?" Alex looked tenderly down at her. "What did I do to deserve this?"

  Charlotte sniffed,, blinking away unexpected tears. "Oh, nothing!" She pressed a kiss against his throat. "Just tell me one-more thing - why did you want me to stop feeding Nicholas?" The baby's name sounded enchanting to her ears.

  Alex frowned. "Who told you I did?"

  "I didn't have to be told. I overheard you and Nurse Hani talking."

  "In Greek?"

  Charlotte's eyes twinkled. ''I haven't been entirely idle while you've been away. Now stop prevaricating. Why did you?"

  Alex chuckled. "I could say I was jealous, but I won't," he murmured, amused at her deepening colour. "Honey, how could I get you to myself if you were all tied up here? Besides, you were wearing yourself out, and I was worried about you."

  "And Miss Francis?"

  "Do you like her?"

  "I hardly know her. She seems efficient"

  "She has excellent references," agreed Alex seriously. "She was nanny to the children of a business colleague. I wouldn't consider leaving our son in just anybody's hands. But if you're not happy..."

  "Oh, I am." Charlotte breathed a sigh of contentment. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  Alex shook his head. "I guess -! was afraid. Honey, you might still have been hating me, and I don't think I could have borne that."

  Charlotte pressed herself against him, feeling his instant response. How much she loved this man who was her husband! To imagine life without
him now did not bear thinking about

  "Well, anyway," she breathed huskily, "I'm glad the wait­ing time is over."

  "So am I," answered Alex fervently, against her ear. "I was getting a little tired of sleeping in the dressing room."

  Charlotte smiled, putting her hand behind his head and pulling his mouth down to hers. One day she would tell him what George had told her. But not yet. For now it was enough that they had each other, and their son would share the love of both parents. The legend had fulfilled its promise.