When she opened them she gave a sigh of relief. A metal cradle with a man on board was gingerly edging towards the ledge. Aldo moved and she tightened her hold on him.
'But I want my kite,' Aldo objected. 'The string broke,' he said with the simplicity of youth and she had to smile at the irony of it as the kite did a graceful dive off the ledge.
Still smiling, she commanded the man in the cradle, 'Take Aldo first,' slipping into the role of rescuer as she had done countless times before, and easing the little boy up into the officer's waiting arms. Then with Aldo clinging safely to the officer's leg, Charlie was hoisted on board.
The descent to the ground was accomplished in seconds, and as the cradle locked back onto the appliance a mighty cheer went up—'Brava Charlotta,' and much in the same vein she did not understand as she stepped back onto firm ground.
The first person she saw was Jake dressed in his usual garb of elegant suit, but with his tie loosened, and she thought she was hallucinating. 'Jake! What are you doing here?' And she smiled, more from relief at the successful completion of the rescue than any great desire to see her husband.
Fury roared through Jake. She was wearing shorts and a skimpy top, her hair was falling around her shoulders, her arms were scratched and her knee was bleeding, and she was smiling. She was actually smiling as if she had been for a damned walk in the park, and she had calmly asked him what he was doing here. He was damn near dying with fright for her and she... 'Shut up, Charlotte, just shut up!' he growled and took her in his arms and held her close to his chest, a great shudder coursing through him.
Shocked, Charlie looked at him. She had been trained to remain cool in a crisis, but obviously Jake was not. His eyes were cold and angry, exactly as they had been the last time she had seen him. No change there, then. His arms tightened in a deathlike grip around her and she yelped and pushed back. 'Please, you're hurting me. I think I've scraped my back.'
'Scraped your back?' Jake's arms eased slightly, and he stared down at her, his black eyes leaping with violence. 'My God, woman, you're lucky you didn't break your neck! Are you stark staring mad?' His anger washed over her in ever-rising waves. 'What possessed you? You're pregnant, for God's sake. Have you got a death wish or something?*
'Or something,' Charlie snapped back. 'Common human decency, something you know nothing about.' He could not have made it plainer it was only the baby he was worried about.
Jake reeled as if he had been struck, all the anger draining out of him. His passionate, beautiful Charlotte was looking at him with contempt in her magnificent blue eyes, and he deserved it. He had been yelling at her like a madman when what he should be doing was comforting her—loving her. Finally he recognised what in his arrogance and conceit he had tried to deny. He loved Charlotte. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but the moment was lost as chaos reigned.
Marta swept Aldo into her arms, crying her eyes out, and berating him at the same time, then, grabbing Charlie's hand, she kissed it and thanked her over and over again.
Charlie murmured something appropriate, embarrassed by all the fuss. Police and firemen crowded around her with congratulations coming from all sides, and all the time Jake was at her back, his hand resting lightly on her waist, his dark presence towering over her.
All the people, the heat, the noise were making her head spin. A camera flashed right in her face and Jake dived past her to grip the hapless photographer and tear the camera from his hands.
Charlie's legs wobbled and for the first time in her life she fainted.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SLOWLY Charlie opened her eyes, and realised she was lying on the bed in the master bedroom. Jake was leaning over her, his handsome face grey and drawn, his eyes burning like black coals beneath hooded lids.
'You're awake, thank God. How do you feel? Where does it hurt?' he demanded in a voice that was not quite steady, and grasped her hand as if his life depended on it. 'Are you all right?'
'Oh, please,' she sighed, trying to sit up, but Jake gently pushed her back down. 'I'm fine.' And surprisingly, she realised she was.
The fog that seemed to have numbed her brain for the past few days was gone. Climbing the cliff, doing what she knew she was good at, while taking all her energy and skill had paradoxically restored her strength—her belief in herself. She didn't need Jake's concern—she didn't need him— and she glanced up at him, for once unmoved. 'How is Aldo? Is he all right?'
'Aldo is fine, hardly a mark on him, and confined to his room for life if I had my way. It is you I am worried about.'
'No need, I'm okay, but what are you doing here?'
'I could ask you the same question,' Jake said curtly. 'Unconscious in bed and why? Because you decided to scale a cliff to rescue that little devil instead of waiting for the emergency services.' A muscle jerked at the side of his mouth. 'Dio—when I saw you climbing up alongside Aldo...' He shook his head in disbelief. 'If I live to be a hundred I will never forget that image. I nearly went out of my mind. I was sure you were going to fall in a crumpled heap at my feet.'
'You wish,' she mocked, and pulled her hand from his. His concern was too little and too late, as far as she was concerned.
'This is not a game, not something to joke about,' he grated, the tension in every line of his body evident as he added, 'You are my wife, you are carrying my child, and you could have killed the pair of you.'
She would never do anything to harm her child, and she had been as careful as she could. But it wasn't in her nature when any child's life was threatened to stand by and do nothing when she knew she could help. That Jake could think otherwise showed exactly how little he knew her. She might have told him so, but Marta appeared with Dr Bruno and a nurse in tow, and Charlie was grateful for the interruption. She didn't want to see Jake, didn't want to argue with him.
She did her best to ignore Jake's brooding presence as Dr Bruno conducted a thorough examination and pronounced the baby fine, and allowed the nurse to treat her cuts and bruises. Then they congratulated her on her act of heroism, and, horrified, she learned she had appeared on the television news.
'But how?' she asked, sitting up in bed. 'I saw you grab the man's camera.' She addressed her comment to Jake but avoided looking at him directly.
'The police cars have video cameras, as does the fire service; they film all their rescues,' Jake informed her, scowling. 'You are now the lead story on the local news station. And given you're a very beautiful and wealthy woman and you climbed a cliff to rescue a young boy, you will probably be splattered all over the national news, if not international.'
Charlie went pale. 'Oh, my God, in fact, they'll probably dig up your life history, and the house will be besieged by paparazzi—'
'Now, Jake,' Dr Bruno cut in. 'Don't upset your wife; she has had enough for one day. But she is a remarkably fit young woman and the baby is fine, so you have nothing to worry about.'
'Are you sure about that?' Jake queried. 'I think she should be in hospital. She might have hidden injuries. What about a full body scan?'
Charlie looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses, but the intense expression on his handsome face told her he was serious.
'I am the doctor here, Jake, and I can assure you Charlotte is fine.'
'But she was unconscious,' Jake said. 'Surely she must stay in hospital one night at least.'
'She is the child's mother,' Charlie said in exasperation, sick of the two men talking about her as if she weren't there. 'And I was not unconscious. I fainted. And I fainted because I had little breakfast and no lunch, and after all that exercise I'm starving.' She almost laughed out loud at the stunned expression on Jake's face.
'There you are.' Dr Bruno chuckled. 'When a patient wants food there is not much wrong. Get Marta to feed her. As for you, Charlotte, eat and rest and no more climbing, until after the baby is born.' Turning to Jake, he added, 'as for you, Jake, do try and take better care of your wife. I don't understand you young men of to
day. In my day a new husband would never have dreamt of leaving his wife alone such a short time after the wedding.'
Jake didn't say a word. He couldn't, because nothing occurred to him but the gut-wrenching knowledge that he had nearly lost her. Dr Bruno was right; he should have taken better care of her. He looked at Charlotte, and her beauty and the shining spirit in her blue eyes shamed him. And all he had done since she had come down the cliff was yell or scowl at her. How could she possibly know it was because he had been terrified at the thought of losing her—still was... ?
When Marta bustled in and told him to keep out of the way, she would look after Charlotte, he let her. After the arrogant way he had behaved over the past few weeks he no longer felt he had the right to object. It would be amazing if Charlotte even spoke to him again, and as for loving him, as she had declared frequently in the past—no chance.
Bathed, changed and tucked up in bed, Charlie had eaten a plate of delicious home-made lasagne and a huge wedge of chocolate gateau. Replete and tired, she refused Marta's offer of cheese.
'No. Marta, truly I don't want anything else, only to sleep,' she said gently. 'You go and look after Aldo. I'm fine." She suffered Marta's thanks for about the thousandth time before Marta finally left.
She lay back against the pillows. It had been a traumatic day, but it had helped her clarify her thoughts on her marriage. She was going back home to England, whether Jake liked it or not, and when she saw him she would tell him so. But not tonight. She was tired. She let her eyelids droop, and was floating on the hazy edge of sleep when she heard the door close.
It was Jake, but he looked like something the cat had dragged in. His black hair was wildly dishevelled, as though he had been running his fingers through it. He had shed his jacket and tie and his shirt was open to the last button. His handsome face tightly drawn, he walked across to her and sat down on the side of the bed.
'What do you want? I was trying to sleep.' His dark brooding gaze roamed slowly over her, lingering on the gauze bandage on her arm, his mouth tightening. It was a warm summer night and she was only wearing a slip of a nightdress. The cover was draped around her middle, and Charlie gathered the sheet closer about her, feeling absurdly nervous as the silence lengthened.
'Aren't you supposed to be in Japan?' She raised her chin, determined not to let him intimidate her ever again.
'Yes, but my wife hung up on me, and, hard as it may be for you to believe, I was worried about you.' He reached for her hand and grasped it in his. She tried to pull free, but he tightened his grip. 'No, please, hear me out. ‘There was a look of determination in his eyes, but also an uncertainty about him she had never seen before. 'I did a lot of thinking on the flight over here, and I realised, in the short time we have been together, I have not been totally honest with you because I have not been honest with myself.'
Charlie was pretty certain she knew what he was going to say next and didn't give him the chance. 'You have no need to explain. I know,' she said woodenly. 'Our marriage was a mistake, and we both know it. It was always the baby you wanted and not me. And don't bother denying it.'
It was never—' Jake began, but she lifted her hand to silence him.
'No, let me finish. I thought for a little while I could live with a marriage solely for the child, but I realised I can't. I'm going back to England.'
'Charlotte, I am—' She cut him off again.
'But don't worry, Jake, I won't deprive you of your child. We are both mature adults, I'm sure we can come to some amicable access agreement.'
'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. 'WhatI 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 theday'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.'
She could only look at him. There could be no doubt he meant every word. It was there in the depth of his dark eyes, the husky determination in his voice, his touch as he brushed away a stray tear from her cheek, and carefully tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
Hope and joy ignited inside her and heat washed through her veins, washing away her fears. Her blue eyes widened in wonder on his.
'I love everything about you,' he murmured softly. 'Though no woman has ever confused and frustrated me so utterly as you have.' His lips curved in a wry smile. 'Nor hurt me as much.'
'Hurt you?' Charlie asked. 'I didn't think that was possible.' But she saw the vulnerability in his dark gaze and was shocked.
'Oh, it is, I assure you,' he said, and then pushed her back against the pillows, his hard body pinning her down, and claimed her mouth with all the fierce passion of his arrogant nature. And she sighed against his lips, and pressed closer.
Jake lifted his head. 'I wanted you so much, Charlotte, but on our wedding day—' His eyes darkened but, as if compelled to talk, he carried on. 'Dio, I listened to Dave telling me what you did, and felt ashamed I had not known. I glanced across and saw you so brave and so beautiful and thought I was the luckiest man on earth.
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