The Throne He Must Take

by Chantelle Shaw

  He had been her client for a week, but she was still no closer to working out who was the real Jarek, she though ruefully. She glanced at him and her heart gave a jolt when she found him watching her, with an unholy gleam in his bright blue eyes that evoked a different kind of heat deep inside her. The firelight danced over his naked torso, highlighting his taut abdominal muscles and gilding his broad shoulders.

  Their eyes met...held...and the atmosphere inside the hut altered subtly from cosy to something far more dangerous.

  Holly heard herself swallow and quickly looked away from him. ‘You make a good fire,’ she murmured, searching for something to say. ‘Were you a boy scout? I can’t imagine where else you would have learned your impressive survival skills.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you, or anyone who has not lived through a war, can imagine what it’s like to hear the constant noise of mortar fire and wonder if the next bombardment will strike what is left of the building you’re sheltering in,’ he said, somewhat drily.

  She bit her lip. ‘That was thoughtless of me. Of course you weren’t a boy scout. You didn’t have a chance to enjoy normal childhood activities growing up in Sarajevo.’

  Jarek raked his hand through his hair and stared at the flames leaping around the logs. ‘I was taught how to build a fire by the soldiers who were defending the city. I got friendly with some of them, and I would run messages along the frontline because I was small enough to avoid being noticed by the attacking troops.’ He shrugged. ‘The enemy snipers took no notice of a half-starved nine-year-old boy. When the orphanage was bombed I used whatever I could find—chair legs and bits of broken door—to make a fire to keep the younger children warm. My survival skills were learned out of necessity.’

  ‘I’m sorry I said I wanted you to go to hell,’ Holly said in a low tone. ‘You spent your childhood there, didn’t you?’

  She pictured Jarek as a young boy, struggling to survive and take care of his baby sister and the other orphaned children who had been innocent victims of a brutal war.

  ‘I haven’t thanked you for saving my life,’ she whispered. ‘I dread to think what would have happened to me if I had been on my own when the avalanche struck.’

  She flinched when he swore.

  ‘You wouldn’t have been on that part of the mountain if it wasn’t for my bloody irresponsible decision to take you skiing off-piste,’ he said savagely. ‘It is entirely my fault that you are hurt and having to spend the night in an emergency shelter.’

  ‘It was my choice to ski off-piste,’ Holly insisted. ‘Far from being irresponsible, you knew the location of the hut before we set out and you were well prepared for an emergency.’

  He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Don’t try and make me out as a hero. Ralph was right when he accused me of having a destructive streak. I ruin lives and I destroy everything that is good—including Lorna.’ His voice dropped to a raw growl, as if he was in pain. ‘Especially Mama...’

  ‘Who is Ralph?’ Holly asked quietly.

  ‘Ralph Saunderson was my adoptive father. He and his wife Lorna rescued my sister and me from the orphanage in Sarajevo.’ He grimaced. ‘I don’t think Ralph particularly enjoyed fatherhood. He didn’t care for his own son, much less me—a feral boy with a chip on his shoulder and an aversion to authority. But Lorna was a wonderful mother to Elin and me. It broke my sister’s heart when Mama died.’

  Jarek dropped his head into his hands.

  ‘It was my fault. I was responsible for my adoptive mother’s death as much as if I had fired the shot that killed her. I didn’t need that bloody journalist to point out the fact to me,’ he muttered.’

  Holly frowned. ‘Are you referring to the journalist you assaulted at a press conference, after you were involved in that crash during a motorbike race?’

  ‘The journalist accused me of riding recklessly and endangering the safety of the other competitors in the race—which wasn’t true...the race stewards had no concerns about how I’d ridden. But the press love to stir up trouble, and that journalist dug up the story from four years ago about Lorna’s death. I lost my temper because I couldn’t bear to be reminded of what I’d done,’ he admitted heavily.

  ‘What did you do?’ she asked softly.

  She wanted to reach out and put her hand on Jarek’s hunched shoulders, somehow magic away the pain that she had heard in his voice. He seemed so alone, and with a flash of insight she realised that his party-loving playboy image in the press was a façade he used to hide his tormented soul.

  He gave a heavy sigh, as if he was worn down by the burden he had carried for so long. ‘It was Mama’s birthday, and Elin and I had taken her to a jeweller’s so that she could choose a gift.’ His voice was a harsh scrape of sound. ‘We were the only customers in the shop when a man walked in and pulled out a pistol. He ordered me, my sister and the shop assistant to lie down on the floor, and he aimed the gun at Lorna while he grabbed jewellery from the display cases.’

  Jarek’s jaw clenched.

  ‘I could tell the guy was nervous. When he dragged Lorna towards the door I guessed he intended to take her with him as a hostage. She was terrified, and crying, and the gunman was shouting at her to shut up. In the confusion I seized my chance and managed to rugby tackle him to the floor. But before I could grab the gun he pulled the trigger. The bullet went straight through Mama’s heart, killing her instantly.’

  ‘Jarek, it wasn’t your fault.’

  Holly’s heart splintered when she saw a tear slip down his cheek. The firelight flickered over the angles and planes of his face, where the skin was stretched taut and his mouth was so grim that it was hard to imagine his trademark sexy grin. He never smiled with his eyes, she realised.

  He did not seem to have heard her. ‘My recklessness killed her,’ he rasped, as if he had swallowed glass. ‘The soldiers in Sarajevo had a motto: Shoot first or be shot. But I didn’t have a gun, and my decision to tackle an armed robber was crassly irresponsible.’

  ‘I believe you acted instinctively to protect your adoptive mother.’ she said gently. ‘As a young boy you had protected your sister from the dangers of war. Childhood experiences frequently affect our behaviour as adults, and your determination to take care of people in need of help was programmed into you when you were nine years old.’

  He turned his head towards her and she wanted to weep when she saw the torment that dulled his blue eyes, and the flash of vulnerability that flickered on his face before he let his hair fall forward to hide his expression.

  ‘Lorna died as a result of an unforgivable act, but you did not fire the gun that ended her life and you were in no way to blame,’ Holly told him fiercely.

  She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, hoping the physical contact would in some small way ease the loneliness that she sensed never left him. She guessed that this was the first time he had ever spoken about his guilty feelings over his adoptive mother’s death.

  ‘The only life you are careless with is your own. You must have known that the armed man who robbed the jewellery shop could have aimed his gun at you, but that didn’t stop you trying your best to protect Lorna.’ She bit her lip. ‘I wish you could see what I see. You are a brave and good man, Jarek.’

  ‘If that is really what you see then I suggest you need your eyesight tested,’ he said mockingly, but there was a note almost of desperation in his voice as he picked up her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

  Holly sensed that he wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t allow himself to do so because he was convinced there could be no redemption for him.

  ‘I wish I had followed my instincts when I arrived at the Frieden Clinic. You knocked me senseless with your beautiful smile, before announcing that you were my psychotherapist and we would be living together for six weeks,’ he said harshly. ‘For your safety and my sanity I should have jumped back onto my motorbike and ridden far away from you.’

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ she whispered.


  In a distant corner of her mind Holly was aware that the painkillers had done their job, and when she moved she felt only a twinge instead of the agonising sensation of a red-hot poker being thrust into her shoulder.

  She assured herself that all she wanted to do was offer Jarek comfort as she knelt in front of him and placed her hands on either side of his face. But even that small contact between their bodies created an electrical current that shot through her, and she could not restrain a soft gasp as heat unfurled low in her belly.

  His bright blue eyes glittered as hard as diamonds. ‘You’re playing with fire, angel-face,’ he said, in an oddly thick voice. ‘You would be safer outside on the mountain than in here with me. There are things you don’t know about me. Secrets I don’t even know about myself.’

  His beautiful mouth twisted.

  ‘A long time ago I think I did something so terrible that my mind has blocked out my memories. You told me that is possible,’ he growled, when she traced her fingertips over the rough stubble on his jaw. ‘For all either of us know I could be a monster... I don’t know...a murderer.’ He glared at her when she didn’t cower away from him. ‘I don’t know what I am,’ he said grimly, ‘but I do know that I’m no good for you.’

  It occurred to Holly then that Jarek was trying to protect her from himself, as if he really did believe he was a monster, and her heart ached for him.

  ‘I do think something bad happened to you when you were a child, but I don’t believe for one second that you are a bad person. Besides,’ she murmured in a deliberately lighter voice, ‘I’m not suggesting that we align our diaries for the next few months.’

  His eyes narrowed when she quoted the exact same words he had said to her after that explosive kiss in his bedroom at Chalet Soline. She sensed that some of his fierce tension had left him, and his mouth crooked in a lazy smile that made her tremble almost as much as the feral gleam in his eyes.

  ‘What are you suggesting, then?’ he drawled, all arrogant male confidence once more.

  On one level Holly wondered what on earth she was doing. Perhaps her close brush with death on the mountain was the reason for the wildness that filled her, and made her wonder how she had resisted him until now.

  ‘This,’ she whispered against his lips, before she covered his mouth with hers.

  He went very still, and her stomach plummeted when she thought he was going to push her away. But then he made a noise in his throat—a low growl of hunger that connected directly to the molten core of her femininity. His arms closed around her like steel bars and he sank his fingers into her hair at the same time as he thrust his tongue into her mouth and took command of a kiss that quickly became a ravishment of her senses.

  * * *

  He should bring an end to this right now, Jarek told himself. Before the feel of Holly’s lips pressed against his became an addiction he would never be able to break. But the sweet ardency of her kiss and—dear God—her generosity evoked something inside him that he had never felt with any other woman. ‘I don’t believe you are a bad person,’ she had said, in stark contrast to everyone else throughout his life, who had said the opposite. Not his sister, of course, but Elin’s loyalty made her blind to his faults. Even Mama had been fond of him despite his flaws, as if he was a challenge or a penance.

  No one apart from Holly had ever suggested that he might be any good. But unfortunately she was wrong. If there was any shred of goodness in him then he would not tumble her down onto the pile of blankets in front of the fire and stretch out beside her. He would not cradle her jaw in his palm and kiss her with unrestrained hunger. And he would not take such delight in her soft sigh of surrender when he unbuttoned the shirt he had lent her and played with her breasts.

  Her nipples puckered in anticipation of his touch, and she gave a thin cry when he traced moist circles around one aureole with his tongue before drawing the hard nub at its centre into his mouth and sucking—hard. The greedy sounds she made became ever more frantic when he transferred his mouth to her other breast, and because he was bad he took fierce pleasure in the way her hips jerked off the floor in an invitation he had no intention of declining.

  The firelight flickered over her body and Jarek followed the path of the flames with his tongue to explore every delicious dip and curve...the smooth slopes of her breasts, the indentation of her waist, and down, down to taste the silken skin of her inner thighs. He laughed softly at the muffled sound she made—half-protest, half-plea—when he hooked his fingers into her panties and tugged them down her legs.

  She was so sweetly responsive that it made him ache deep in his gut. And he was so hard. Sweet heaven, he was more turned on than he could ever remember being. He wanted to pull her beneath him and sink between her milky-white thighs, drive his rock-solid shaft into her slick heat and glory in the fiery passion that had simmered between them for what seemed like an eternity, but in fact was only one week. Six weeks with this woman would kill him, Jarek thought wryly. Worse still, he might be tempted to tell Holly what he saw in his nightmares, and then she would know for sure that there was nothing good about him.

  But he would not have months or weeks or even any more days with her. She could not save him, however much she believed that therapy would help him. Jarek knew he must walk away from her before he destroyed her, as he had almost done today on the mountain, and just as he had destroyed Mama. There was only this one night, and he was arrogant enough to want her, even as mindless with desire as he was.

  But this wasn’t about him. Tonight was all about Holly.

  He felt a tremor run through her when he dipped his tongue into her navel and then pressed soft kisses over her stomach. But when he pushed her legs apart and knelt between her thighs she stiffened.

  ‘You can’t...’

  Her shocked whisper was barely audible, and he grinned at her before he bent his head.

  ‘Oh, yes, I can, angel-face,’ he assured her thickly.

  His nostrils flared as he caught the sweet scent of her arousal and he could not wait any longer. He slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her towards him, holding her at just the right angle. He had never seen a more beautiful sight than her splayed open before him. With a growl of satisfaction he set about his appointed task, and with his tongue bestowed the most intimate caress of all.

  She made a startled sound, as if what he was doing to her was new, and her fingers gripped his hair. When he placed his mouth over the tight little nub of her clitoris she gave a sharp cry as she shattered around him.

  Jarek didn’t know how he found the strength of will to ignore the thunderous drumbeat of his own desire—especially when Holly tried to slide her hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. But she had been shocked and scared in the aftermath of the avalanche, and he knew that if he took advantage of her vulnerability he would hate himself even more than he already did.

  He hadn’t finished with her yet, though, and while she was still panting and gasping from her first orgasm he pressed his mouth against her riotous heat once more and took possession of her with a mastery that had her sobbing his name as she climaxed again.

  Afterwards he drew her trembling body against him and held her against his chest—against the heart that ached dully as she fell asleep in his arms and he watched over her for the rest of the night to keep her safe.

  * * *

  The cold woke her. Holly opened her eyes and felt disorientated for a few seconds, before she remembered that she had spent the night in an emergency shelter halfway up a mountain. A shaft of bright light came into the hut through the one small window, and she registered that the fire had gone out and there was no sign of Jarek.

  Memories rushed into her mind, followed swiftly by self-recrimination.

  What had she done?

  More pertinently, what had she allowed Jarek to do?

  She turned her head slowly, expecting to see him at the far end of the hut. The sight of her knickers on the floor next to her wa
s a reminder of just how bad the situation was, but in case she was in any doubt images flashed into her head of her sprawled on the floor, with her legs wide apart and Jarek on his knees, holding her thighs firmly open with his hands as he leaned forward and put his mouth there, right at her feminine core.

  Worse than the erotic images in her mind was the accompanying soundtrack: her pants and gasps culminating in the keening cry that had been torn from her when he’d made her come—twice. And his laughter...deep and husky...the memory of it even now brought her skin out in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the bitterly cold temperature inside the hut.

  She briefly debated if it would have been preferable to have been swept to her doom by the avalanche than to be lying here facing humiliation and dismissal from her job. The knowledge that her behaviour had been unprofessional, to say the least, prompted her to get up from the floor—but she quickly discovered that the effects of the painkillers had worn off and a sickening bolt of pain throbbed in her shoulder.

  It was imperative for what remained of her dignity that she put her knickers back on before she faced Jarek and so, gritting her teeth, she forced herself to bend down and pick them up. She had just managed to pull them on and struggle into her salopettes when the door of the hut opened and he walked in.

  ‘Good—you’re awake,’ he said coolly, with no hint in his voice of the sensual lover from the previous night.

  Holly’s fragile hope that he would sweep her into his arms withered and died. He was dressed in his ski clothes and his eyes were hidden behind designer shades. With his just-got-out-of-bed blond hair falling over his collar he looked like one of the beautiful people who flocked to St Moritz or Klosters.

  A sense of hopelessness swept over Holly as she acknowledged that she was not a glamorous socialite or an A-list female celebrity, like the women Jarek was used to. His cavalier attitude this morning made her think he had made love to her simply because they had been stranded on the mountain and he’d probably been bored.