Beware of the Beast (31 page)

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 div
orce?" 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 com
plication 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 under
stand
,
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 impatience 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 Char
lotte. "Wait for me here," he asked her huskily, and she nod
ded. "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 mur
mured 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."