Free Pregnancy of Revenge by Jacqueline Baird
Authors: Jacqueline Baird
exclusively. I do not believe in sharing, and, I trust, neither do you,' he drawled with silken emphasis. 'Or did I get that wrong?'
'No—yes.' He was staring down at her with dark, almost angry eyes and Charlie was hopelessly confused. 'I mean, of course you are.'
My God! Jake actually sounded jealous, she realised , although he had no reason to be. She was about to tell him so, and explain Dave was her boss at International Rapid Rescue, but she didn't get the chance.
'Good.' Looping an arm around her waist, he ushered her into the lift. 'Third floor, correct?'
Mildly affronted by his abrupt manner, she asked, 'I thought you had to work today?' She was not a complete pushover, even if she had given Jake that impression.
'A certain lady left me wide awake and aching, so I worked for what was left of the night.'
She smiled up at him, feeling the tension in the arm that held her leaving him. 'Gosh, unable to sleep? That's funny, I slept like a log.' Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of Jake aching for her.
'Witch,' he chuckled, and at that moment they reached her floor.
Inexplicably, Charlie felt nervous showing Jake into the apartment. Taking the carrier from his hand, she said, 'Make yourself at home while I put this away,' and dashed for the kitchen before she did something foolish like grabbing him. She didn't want to appear too desperate.
Jake's dark gaze roamed around what was a basic studio apartment. The place was tiny, and it was obviously used for one thing only: the bed.
A tiny living area contained a sofa that faced a television and music centre, and in between a sheepskin rug covered most of the wood floor. An open staircase led up to a gallery that held a large bed and nothing much else except a door that obviously had to lead to the bathroom. The space beneath the stairs housed a desk and computer and a row of bookcases, and that was it.
It confirmed all his worst suspicions: this was a love nest, or a bachelor pad at best. He cursed the crazy impulse that had made him come looking for Charlotte. It was not like him at all. But after a sleepless night, when visions of her exquisite body had tormented him, and he had sat for a few hours at the computer but had not been able to even occupy his mind with work, his curiosity had got the better of him— and, if he was honest, so had his libido. And he had determined to see her again. Big mistake.
He strode across to the window and the view did nothing to improve his mood: the back of a warehouse. Then he noticed the silver photo frame on the window-sill. He picked it up, his dark eyes narrowing on the picture it contained. A tall, burly, fair-haired man, with a slim dark woman at his side and three children kneeling at their feet. Surely Charlotte's last lover could not be a married man?
'That's Dave and his family.' He turned his head at the sound of her voice. She was standing in the kitchen doorway smiling at him.
Jake remained standing by the window, uneasiness clutching at his gut. His hooded dark eyes raked over Charlotte's slender figure and beaming face. She looked totally unashamed innocent almost, and yet she was using another man's apartment. A married man at that.
'Very nice.' Jake placed the frame back on the table. 'And this apartment is very cozy, but hardly a family home?' he prompted.
'No Dave has a house in Dorset and only uses this flat when he is in London on business.'
Jake stiffened. She was as good as admitting a married man had been her lover, and it disgusted him. 'Convenient,' Jake said cynically, subjecting her to a hard, steady appraisal. 'For you.'
His relationship with Charlotte had started out straightforwardly enough, as an act of revenge. After last night he should have left it at that.
Charlotte was moving towards him, her incredible eyes wide and guileless as she flashed him a brilliant smile. "For everyone. Lisa, his wife, loved the place; she said it was a perfect bolt-hole for the pair of them when
'No—yes.' He was staring down at her with dark, almost angry eyes and Charlie was hopelessly confused. 'I mean, of course you are.'
My God! Jake actually sounded jealous, she realised , although he had no reason to be. She was about to tell him so, and explain Dave was her boss at International Rapid Rescue, but she didn't get the chance.
'Good.' Looping an arm around her waist, he ushered her into the lift. 'Third floor, correct?'
Mildly affronted by his abrupt manner, she asked, 'I thought you had to work today?' She was not a complete pushover, even if she had given Jake that impression.
'A certain lady left me wide awake and aching, so I worked for what was left of the night.'
She smiled up at him, feeling the tension in the arm that held her leaving him. 'Gosh, unable to sleep? That's funny, I slept like a log.' Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of Jake aching for her.
'Witch,' he chuckled, and at that moment they reached her floor.
Inexplicably, Charlie felt nervous showing Jake into the apartment. Taking the carrier from his hand, she said, 'Make yourself at home while I put this away,' and dashed for the kitchen before she did something foolish like grabbing him. She didn't want to appear too desperate.
Jake's dark gaze roamed around what was a basic studio apartment. The place was tiny, and it was obviously used for one thing only: the bed.
A tiny living area contained a sofa that faced a television and music centre, and in between a sheepskin rug covered most of the wood floor. An open staircase led up to a gallery that held a large bed and nothing much else except a door that obviously had to lead to the bathroom. The space beneath the stairs housed a desk and computer and a row of bookcases, and that was it.
It confirmed all his worst suspicions: this was a love nest, or a bachelor pad at best. He cursed the crazy impulse that had made him come looking for Charlotte. It was not like him at all. But after a sleepless night, when visions of her exquisite body had tormented him, and he had sat for a few hours at the computer but had not been able to even occupy his mind with work, his curiosity had got the better of him— and, if he was honest, so had his libido. And he had determined to see her again. Big mistake.
He strode across to the window and the view did nothing to improve his mood: the back of a warehouse. Then he noticed the silver photo frame on the window-sill. He picked it up, his dark eyes narrowing on the picture it contained. A tall, burly, fair-haired man, with a slim dark woman at his side and three children kneeling at their feet. Surely Charlotte's last lover could not be a married man?
'That's Dave and his family.' He turned his head at the sound of her voice. She was standing in the kitchen doorway smiling at him.
Jake remained standing by the window, uneasiness clutching at his gut. His hooded dark eyes raked over Charlotte's slender figure and beaming face. She looked totally unashamed innocent almost, and yet she was using another man's apartment. A married man at that.
'Very nice.' Jake placed the frame back on the table. 'And this apartment is very cozy, but hardly a family home?' he prompted.
'No Dave has a house in Dorset and only uses this flat when he is in London on business.'
Jake stiffened. She was as good as admitting a married man had been her lover, and it disgusted him. 'Convenient,' Jake said cynically, subjecting her to a hard, steady appraisal. 'For you.'
His relationship with Charlotte had started out straightforwardly enough, as an act of revenge. After last night he should have left it at that.
Charlotte was moving towards him, her incredible eyes wide and guileless as she flashed him a brilliant smile. "For everyone. Lisa, his wife, loved the place; she said it was a perfect bolt-hole for the pair of them when