The Throne He Must Take. Chantelle Shaw

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Название The Throne He Must Take
Автор произведения Chantelle Shaw
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon Modern
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474052887



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stub into his pocket before he walked up the steps to join her on the porch.

      While she groped for her sanity, and for something—anything—to say, his smile faded and there was a hard edge to his voice when he spoke again. ‘And I no longer use my English adoptive parents’ name: Saunderson. I prefer to be known by the name I was given at bir—’ He stopped abruptly and then said, ‘By my Bosnian name: Dvorska.’

      ‘Right... Mr Dvorska. Um...’ God, was that breathless voice really hers? Holly cleared her throat. ‘Welcome to the Frieden Clinic.’ She frowned as she recalled his comment. ‘Why did you call yourself a condemned prisoner? Frieden is the German word for peace, and the Frieden Clinic is a place of sanctuary—not a prison. I hope you will find a sense of peace and tranquillity here, while I endeavour to help you on your journey to a lasting recovery from the emotional issues that have created a negative impact on your life.’

      ‘Peace?’ His laugh was an oddly grim sound. ‘I sincerely doubt I’ll ever find that. You say that you will be helping me on this wondrous journey to enlightenment?’ His tone was sardonic. ‘I’d assumed you are the receptionist. When I met Professor Heppel in London he told me I had been assigned a psychotherapist called Dr Maitland.’

      ‘Forgive me. I should have introduced myself.’ Feeling flustered, Holly extended her hand towards him. ‘I’m Dr Holly Maitland.’

      Almost imperceptibly Jarek Dvorska’s demeanour changed. He still spoke in that lazy drawl, as if he was bored with his life—which, according to the gossip columns, was an endless round of parties with his similarly louche millionaire friends—but his ice-blue eyes were sharply intelligent and his intent gaze gave Holly the unsettling idea that he could see inside her head.

      ‘You are not what I was expecting,’ he murmured after a lengthy pause.

      She swallowed as he enclosed her hand in a firm grasp. Heat shot up her arm, as if she’d stuck her fingers into an electrical socket, causing the tiny hairs on her skin to prickle. Far more embarrassingly, she felt her nipples tighten. Jarek dropped his gaze to her breasts and the eyes that had reminded Holly of glacial pools now gleamed hotly with a wicked promise that she assured herself had no effect on her.

      ‘It’s quite common to form ideas about another person before actually meeting them.’ She ignored the frantic thud of her heart and gave him a cool smile. ‘What were your expectations of me?’

      ‘I assumed you would be older,’ he said bluntly. ‘Frankly I’m not interested in unburdening my soul to a psychologist. I’m only here because my sister believes I need to learn to control my temper, and my brother-in-law threatened to kill me if I do anything to upset Elin in the final weeks of her pregnancy.’

      He did not sound as if he was joking.

      Holly felt a pang of envy for Jarek’s sister. She’d had many years to come to terms with her infertility, but there was still a little ache inside her when she heard of other women who were on the magical journey to motherhood.

      She switched her thoughts to Jarek. There had been deep affection in his voice when he’d mentioned his sister, which belied his image in the tabloids of a reckless playboy who cared only about his personal gratification with an endless supply of pretty women.

      ‘I suppose your reference to my age means you think I lack experience? But I can assure you I have a Doctorate in Counselling Psychology and Psychotherapy and I have experience working as a psychotherapist in both the private health sector and the NHS in England.’

      The leather-clad shoulders lifted in another shrug that made Holly appreciate Jarek’s formidable physique. She was slightly below average height, which was why she had never made it onto the catwalk during her brief modelling career, and he towered over her. She estimated he must be two or three inches over six feet tall.

      ‘I don’t doubt you are highly qualified,’ he murmured. ‘Professor Heppel spoke very highly of you. But he failed to mention that you are beautiful, Dr Maitland.’

      It was not difficult to understand why women fell for him in droves. He could turn on his charm as easily as flicking a switch. His husky voice smouldered with a sensual heat that made her insides melt and it took all her willpower to meet his gaze calmly.

      ‘Professor Heppel offered me a job at his clinic based on my reputation as a dedicated psychotherapist,’ she said crisply. ‘Please—call me Holly,’ she continued. ‘We are going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks and we need to feel comfortable around each other. It is important to establish trust and respect between a patient and his therapist.’

      ‘Comfortable...’ Jarek rolled the word off his tongue in a smoky, sexy voice that lit a flame in the pit of Holly’s stomach. ‘Women don’t usually feel comfortable around me. My talents are considerable...’ he grinned at her startled expression ‘...but offering comfort is not one of them.’

      ‘I don’t suppose it is,’ she said drily. ‘I’m sure your legions of female devotees are attracted to your dangerous image. But presumably your numerous shallow affairs fail to make you happy? Which is why you have sought the help of a psychotherapist to enable you to make changes in your lifestyle that will allow you to have more fulfilling relationships.’

      ‘I told you—I’ve only agreed to undergo therapy to please my sister.’

      His lazy smile did not change but the warmth had gone from his eyes, leaving them as cold and hard as ice. Holly gave a little shiver. There was something predatory about him that was at variance with his reputation of a dissolute playboy. She had a feeling that people saw in Jarek exactly what he wanted them to see. But if the life that he played out in the full glare of the media was a lie, who was the real Jarek Dvorska?

      ‘Why do women think that men can only feel fulfilled if they are in a relationship?’ he drawled. ‘I’m perfectly content to have shallow affairs—in fact the shallower the better. The truth is that the ultimate male fantasy is for hot, hard sex without strings. Emotional strings, I mean. Real strings add an interesting element to sex play, but personally I prefer to use silk cords for bondage games.’

      Holly was furious with herself for blushing—and furious with him for being an arrogant jerk. To think she’d wasted thirty seconds of her life wondering if he had hidden depths! But, like it or not—like him or not—Jarek was her client and it was vital that she established a rapport with him. At the end of his six-week stay at the clinic he would discuss with Professor Heppel if her treatment had been successful for him. A bad report would jeopardise her job at the Frieden Clinic—but, more than that, psychotherapy was her vocation, and she had a genuine desire to help every patient she worked with.

      She made herself smile at Jarek. ‘We can explore your theories about relationships and the possible reasons for your fear of commitment during our sessions. It’s good that you can speak openly and honestly regarding your feelings about casual sex. You can be confident that I will do my best to help you with your issues.’

      He threw back his head and laughed—low and husky and outrageously sensual. ‘I promise you I don’t need any help with sex, angel-face.’

      Holly knew she was blushing again, and felt even more mortified when she saw Jarek’s eyes flick down to her breasts again. He could hardly fail to notice the hard peaks of her nipples outlined beneath her blouse. ‘Let’s go inside, where it’s warm,’ she said tightly. ‘I should have put my coat on before I came out to meet you and I’m cold,’ she added, keen to emphasise that her body’s involuntary reaction was to the icy temperature, and she was not affected by his potent masculinity.

      Avoiding the speculative gleam in his eyes, she ushered him into the clinic and indicated a door leading off the entrance hall.

      ‘Through there is a boot room, where ski equipment is kept and where you can leave your bike gear. Your luggage arrived this morning, and one of the support staff will take your cases to your private residential retreat later. I’ll wait for you in the lounge. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

      ‘I’d