The Throne He Must Take

by Chantelle Shaw

  He shrugged. ‘I told Cortez I would keep off the paparazzi’s radar until Elin has the baby. As long as I keep out of trouble there is no reason for my sister to find out that I decided not to remain at the clinic.’

  ‘She will find out when she asks me for an update on how you are responding to treatment.’

  Jarek stiffened. ‘Are you intending to make weekly reports on my progress? Perhaps I’ll earn a gold star if I’m a good boy,’ he said with icy sarcasm. He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe my sister asked you to spy on me. Or that you agreed. What happened to your promise to respect my confidentiality?’

  ‘Not spy on you,’ she denied quickly. ‘Elin phoned me before you arrived, and it’s obvious that she cares about you and is concerned about your emotional health.’ Holly’s voice faltered when he swore. ‘Your sister asked me to call her if you refused to stay. I won’t lie to her and pretend you are receiving treatment.’

  ‘So the Frieden Clinic is my prison and you are my gaoler—albeit a very beautiful one,’ Jarek drawled, in the lazy tone he had perfected over many years in order to hide his true thoughts.

  He acknowledged that he could not leave the clinic and risk upsetting Elin, but that meant he was trapped at Chalet Soline with Holly.

  There might be some benefits to his enforced captivity, he mused. The Frieden Clinic prided itself on its exclusivity, and guarded the privacy and anonymity of its wealthy clientele. Nobody, apart from Elin and Cortez, knew of his whereabouts, and he hoped ‘the Vostov problem’ would disappear when the principality’s National Council could not find him to repeat their request for him to have a DNA test.

  He was no prince, he brooded. He was plain Jarek Dvorska. And his parents—if only he could remember them, God rest their souls—had been poor peasants. That was what the staff at the orphanage had told him. His parents had definitely not been Prince Goran and his consort Princess Isidora who, with their young son and baby daughter, had died in a car accident on a mountain pass as the family had attempted to escape from Vostov into neighbouring Croatia during the Balkan conflict.

  Jarek pulled his thoughts back to the present. He guessed Holly was looking tense because she was worried that her first patient at the Frieden Clinic was about to walk out and that would not be a good start in her new job.

  He let his eyes roam over her, noting the rich coffee and chocolate tones of her silky hair and those huge Bambi eyes fringed by impossibly long lashes. Her sensual mouth would tempt a saint, let alone the sinner he knew he was.

  He shrugged. For once in his life he had tried to do the right thing, but fate had decided to throw him and Holly together and he wasn’t about to complain. She would be an entertaining distraction. He had promised Cortez he would keep his private life out of the media’s spotlight, but he hadn’t taken a vow of celibacy.

  He let go of Holly’s arm and she immediately bolted away, without pausing to cover herself with the towel. Jarek felt anticipation jolt through him, hot and fierce, as he watched her race down the hallway. His eyes were drawn to the delightful curves of her derriere that were barely covered by her tiny swimsuit.

  The next few weeks promised to be interesting.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE MINUTE HOLLY reached her bedroom she pulled off her swimsuit and kicked it across the floor in an uncharacteristic display of temper. But really! Jarek’s arrogant belief that he was God’s gift to womankind was infuriating.

  She was annoyed with herself for the way she had responded to him. Her swimsuit revealed a lot more of her body than she was comfortable with, and it must have given the wrong impression about her. She’d looked more like a porn star rather than a doctor of psychology, she thought, hot with embarrassment. If she had been wearing her functional navy blue one-piece it was doubtful that Jarek would have given her a second look, let alone stared at her with the undisguised hunger in his eyes that had evoked a shocking throb of need low in her pelvis.

  She blamed Kate, her flatmate in London. Holly hadn’t packed any swimwear when she’d come to Austria to work at the Frieden Clinic, but then Professor Heppel had told her she could use the sauna and hot tub at Chalet Soline, and she had asked Kate to post her swimsuit to her. Unfortunately her friend had sent the frivolous gold swimsuit that she’d bought on an impulse for that disastrous—as it had turned out—holiday to Barbados with Stuart.

  A glance at the clock warned Holly that there was only twenty minutes before the clinic’s medical director was due to arrive at the chalet for dinner. After bundling her hair into a waterproof cap she hurried into the shower, and while she stood beneath the spray her mind flew back to the time when she had told Stuart that she was unable to have children.

  It was not a conversation she had expected to have with him, when they had only been dating for eight months. But Stuart had surprised her on the second evening of their holiday by talking about the future.

  ‘My father is considering making me a partner in the family law firm and he has made it clear that he would like me to settle down. I feel that it’s time for me to think about getting married and raising a family of my own.’

  They had been strolling along the beach when he had stopped and taken hold of Holly’s hand.

  ‘I would like you to be my wife, Holly. We share the same values and we both have successful careers. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have as the mother of my children.’

  Stuart had not sworn undying love for her, but that hadn’t made it any easier for Holly to tell him she could not give him a child because she had a rare syndrome which meant she had been born without a womb.

  Finding out when she was fifteen that she had Mayer Rokitansky Kuster Hauser syndrome—commonly shortened to MRKH—had been devastating, but at the time of her diagnosis her infertility had not been as much of an issue as her feeling that she was not ‘normal’.

  The syndrome meant that she had been born with a shortened vagina, and she would need surgery to enable her to have sex. As a teenager she had found it excruciatingly embarrassing to discuss intimate details about her body with her doctors, and it had been frankly impossible to talk about her condition with her parents. She had felt too self-conscious to go on dates until she was at university, and her few sexual experiences had been uncomfortable—probably because she had been so tense, she acknowledged.

  Deciding when to bring up the subject of her condition and her infertility with men she dated had always been difficult. If she mentioned it on a first date it seemed pushy, and gave the impression that she was hoping for a physical long-term relationship. But if she waited weeks or months it seemed dishonest.

  ‘I wish you had told me earlier in our relationship,’ had been Stuart’s response after she had broken the news that she was infertile. ‘Having a child is important to me.’

  Holly had refrained from pointing out that something like one in seven couples experienced problems conceiving, and that having children was not an automatic right. But Stuart’s reaction had re-awoken the feeling of inadequacy that she had struggled with since she had been diagnosed with MRKH syndrome. It was true she hadn’t been madly in love with Stuart, but his rejection had still hurt—especially when she’d heard a few months after they had broken up that his new girlfriend was pregnant.

  She dragged her mind back to the present and stepped out of the shower to dry herself before hurrying into the bedroom to get dressed. Her dusky-pink cashmere dress had been an extravagant purchase, but its simple elegance was worth the price tag. She accessorised it with a wide belt and matching grey kitten-heel shoes.

  It was an outfit she had worn several times before, and always felt comfortable in, but tonight when she looked in the mirror she decided that the dress moulded her curvaceous figure a little too lovingly. But it was five minutes to eight, and she only had time to pull a comb through her hair before she hurried downstairs.

  She found Karl in the dining room, rearranging the table settings. ‘Professor Heppel telephoned a f
ew minutes ago and apologised. He cannot come for dinner this evening because his mother is unwell and he must go to Vienna to visit her,’ the chef told her. ‘The professor also asked me to tell you that he has booked tickets for you and Mr Dvorska to attend the masquerade ball which will take place in Salzburg next weekend.’

  Holly’s heart sank at the prospect of having dinner alone with Jarek while her mind still insisted on replaying those moments by the hot tub, when sexual chemistry had sizzled between them.

  She watched Karl light the candles in the centre of the table. A fire was crackling in the hearth and the lamps had been turned down low, creating a dangerously intimate feel to the dining room. ‘Perhaps Mr Dvorska would prefer to have his dinner served in the lounge in front of the television,’ she murmured. ‘I’m happy to eat in the kitchen.’

  ‘It’s bad for the digestion to eat at the same time as doing another activity.’

  The lazy drawl sounded from behind her and Holly’s stomach tied itself into a knot as she swung round and saw Jarek stroll through the door.

  Undoubtedly he would unsettle her digestive system, she thought. Butterflies had leapt in her stomach when he had appeared by the hot tub, wearing a pair of sweatpants that sat low on his hips and a black gym vest that had revealed too much of his sleek, golden-skinned body. Her blood had run hot in her veins when he’d stared at her with a hard glitter in his eyes that had made her wish she could respond to his unspoken challenge.

  At least now they were both dressed—but Jarek looked no less devastating in close-fitting black trousers and a black silk shirt unbuttoned at the throat to reveal a sprinkling of dark blond chest hair. Holly shivered, despite the heat from the roaring fire. There was something elemental and sensual about a real fire, and her wayward imagination pictured her and Jarek lying on the fur rug in front of the hearth, their naked limbs entwined.

  She did not dare look at him for fear that he would somehow guess her thoughts. What was wrong with her? she asked herself in silent despair. The truth was that Jarek’s rampant sex appeal made her aware of her sensuality in a way she had never felt before.

  ‘Dr Maitland and I will have dinner in here,’ Jarek said to Karl.

  He pulled out a chair for Holly, leaving her no option but to sit down at the table, and as she inhaled the spicy scent of his aftershave something visceral tugged in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Don’t look so tense.’ He sounded amused. ‘I don’t bite.’

  His wide grin revealed his white teeth and once again he reminded Holly of a wolf.

  ‘Unless you would like me to bite you,’ he said softly. ‘Pleasure can be enhanced by a little pain, don’t you find?’

  She swallowed and forced herself to look at him calmly across the table, where he had taken his place opposite her. ‘You have to stop this. I’m sure you automatically flirt with every woman you meet, but I suspect that your sexually suggestive remarks are designed to distract me from doing my job.’

  Fortunately Karl reappeared then, to serve the first course. Holly picked up her glass and took a sip of elderflower water, wishing she could have a glass of wine—or preferably a vat of wine, she thought ruefully. She needed something to render her unconscious, so she did not have to cope with Jarek’s teasing remarks that made her feel crazily out of control and in danger of doing something very stupid...like walk around the table and kiss his too sexy mouth to shut him up.

  She stared down at her bowl of potato soup with little dumplings. It was an Austrian speciality and one of her favourites, but she found that her appetite had disappeared.

  It was her professional duty to help Jarek feel at ease, she reminded herself. Patients were often reluctant to talk about their problems and she was trained to break down barriers gently.

  Once Karl had left the room she murmured, ‘I have read through your notes, but it would help me to gain a better understanding of you if you could tell me about the issues that led to your decision to seek psychotherapy.’

  ‘I agreed to try therapy because other people believe I have issues,’ he said sardonically. ‘And before I allow you to dig around in my emotions, it only seems fair for you to tell me about yourself. You did say it is important for therapist and patient to establish a bond of trust,’ he reminded her.

  ‘That’s true,’ Holly acknowledged. ‘But I assumed that Professor Heppel had showed you my CV, which gives details of all my professional qualifications.’

  ‘I meant that I want to get to know you on a personal level.’

  He trapped her gaze with his, and even though the table was between them it wasn’t nearly wide enough for Holly’s liking. She had a sense that his piercing blue eyes could see inside her head and that he knew she was helpless to control the way he affected her.

  It struck her then that Jarek had no intention of revealing his thoughts—or, as he put it, allowing her to dig around in his emotions. His scathing opinion of psychotherapy would make her job even harder.

  ‘Who is Holly Maitland?’ he said softly, as if he was genuinely interested and his question wasn’t simply another diversionary tactic.

  She shrugged. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘You mentioned that you lived in the countryside. Where was that, exactly?’

  ‘I grew up on my parents’ farm in Cumbria. It’s a beautiful part of the world, but the farm is in a remote area of the fells, seven miles from the nearest village. It sounds romantic to live on a desolate, windswept moor,’ she said with a faint smile, ‘but when I was a child I felt very isolated.’

  ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’

  ‘A brother—Callum. He’s five years older than me, and when we were children he was always helping my father. Cal will inherit the farm one day, and now that he and his wife have a little boy it means that Maitland Farm will remain in the family, as it has done for five generations.’

  Holly hoped Jarek had not noticed the slight tremor in her voice when she had mentioned her nephew. Daniel was six months old, and when she’d held him soon after he was born she had felt sad, knowing she would never hold her own baby. But just as bad had been her guilt that she was a disappointment to her mother.

  She supposed it was natural that her mum had grown close to Callum’s wife. After all, Brenna had given Ann Maitland a longed-for grandchild, which was something her daughter could never do. It was immature to feel envious of the bond between her mother and sister-in-law, Holly reminded herself.

  ‘So why did a farmer’s daughter decide to become a psychologist?’ Jarek asked.

  ‘I didn’t know I wanted to study psychology when I left school.’ She sighed. ‘To be honest, all I wanted was to live somewhere with a population greater than fifty. When I was offered a place at a university in London to study modern languages I couldn’t wait to experience city life.’

  ‘Did your parents understand why you wanted to leave the farm?’

  Holly felt a familiar stab of guilt. It was not an exaggeration to say that her moving away from home had felt like a betrayal of her family’s long history of farming the desolate Cumbrian fells. She glanced at Jarek, surprised that a man who actively encouraged the press’s portrayal of him as shallow and only interested in the pursuit of pleasure had asked such an unexpectedly intuitive question.

  ‘I’m not sure that either of my parents have ever understood me,’ she admitted. ‘The farm is their life, but even as a child I knew I wanted to do something else. Mum wanted to pass on to me the traditions she had learned from her mother and grandmother, and she was disappointed that I had no interest in learning how to make jam or spin wool. I’ve always felt that I fall short of being the kind of daughter my mother hoped for...especially when I found out that I—’

  Holly broke off abruptly, shocked that she had opened up so much to Jarek. There was no reason to tell him that she had a rare syndrome which meant she was infertile.

  ‘That you...what?’ he prompted.

  A look of impatience flashed
on his face when the door opened to admit Karl bringing the main course, but Holly was grateful for the interruption.

  ‘What were you about to say?’ Jarek asked, as soon the chef had finished serving the meal and departed from the room.

  ‘Oh...’ She pretended to look vague. ‘I don’t remember.’

  His eyes narrowed on her flushed face, but to her relief he did not pursue the subject. ‘What did you think of city life when you moved to London?’

  ‘Truthfully, I found it a little overwhelming. But I was spotted by a model agency scout in my first term at university and thought I could do a bit of modelling to earn some money. Quite unexpectedly I became a successful photographic model. It seemed glamorous at first, but trying to juggle my studies with photo shoots and the frenetic social life that was part of the modelling scene affected my health—both physically and emotionally.’

  Holly put down her knife and fork, unable to eat any more of the rich pork dish.

  ‘On the surface I appeared to have a fantastic life,’ she told Jarek, ‘but I put on an act to hide the fact that I was finding the pressure hard to deal with. Luckily the university arranged for me to see a wonderful counsellor, who helped me through that difficult period in my life. Having personal experience of the benefits of counselling was the reason I switched to a combined psychology and psychotherapy degree.’

  Counselling had helped her to accept that she had been born with MRKH syndrome, Holly thought to herself. With her counsellor’s support she had worked through her grief that she was infertile, and she had even stopped believing—mostly—that she was a disappointment to her parents. But she had not completely overcome the body image issues that had worsened when she’d started modelling.

  Men had desired her for the way she looked, but she had felt a fraud because, in her mind, she wasn’t a normal woman. She had been ashamed of her body, and counselling had not completely banished her insecurities. What man would want to make love to a woman who had to use dilators before she could have sex?