The Chatsfield Short Romances 1-5 - Marguerite Kaye Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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She’d never been aware of how weighted down she felt before.

      The lobby’s grand hushed opulence went over Nat’s head, Salim’s hand tight on hers. She almost had to run to keep up with his long-legged stride. They were at the lift and she was breathless. She couldn’t look at Salim though, too afraid he’d see her desperation.

      And then the lift doors opened and they stood back to let a tall distinguished grey-haired gentleman out. He stopped when he saw Salim and exclaimed, taking his free hand and pumping it enthusiastically. Frustration gnawed at Nat as she took in the conversation, Salim’s tight smile.

      Salim drew her into his side and looked down for a second. She could see the frustration mirrored in his dark eyes and almost felt like giggling.

      ‘Natalja, this is Gene Chatsfield, owner of the Chatsfield empire, and my friend Antonio’s father.’

      The older man turned to Nat. She could appreciate that he was an Alpha male past his prime but still very much in control. His gaze was shrewd and had assessed her in an instant.

      He bowed towards her briefly, ‘I trust your photo shoot went well Miss Jordan?’

      Nat was taken aback that he knew of it. ‘Yes, of course, everyone was very helpful, thank you.’

      He straightened up. ‘Your father was a great man, he stayed here many times over the years.’

      ‘Yes,’ Nat said huskily, ‘I knew that.’

      Salim’s hand tightened on hers as if to comfort her and she clung to him like a rock. The past and present, it was all meshing and colliding in this place. Salim was bidding Chatsfield good-night and finally they were free to step into the lift.

      Once the doors closed and Salim had pressed the button, presumably to his floor, he turned to her and cupped her jaw with a hand. He looked at her and she saw concern in his eyes. ‘Ok?’

      She knew that he meant the reference to her father just now. And it touched her. She nodded her head, any tendrils of emotion being drowned in the waves of heat emanating from Salim in the small space.

      He didn’t pull her closer, didn’t try to kiss her again. Just looked at her as if he could see all the way to the very depths of her being. It was more profound than if he’d touched her physically, even though every part of her body ached for him to do that.

      The lift pinged and the doors slid open silently. Salim led her out and down a luxuriously carpeted hall. Nat could see that it was far more opulent than her floor. Salim opened ornate doors and walked inside, flicking a light switch.

      Nat followed him into the palatial suite which she could see took in a stunning view of London. She was used to some of the most jaw-dropping locations in the world thanks to her job and this was up there with them. ‘What is this suite?’

      Salim was slipping off his jacket, dark eyes taking in her reaction. ‘It’s the Princess Royal suite, Antonio’s little idea of a joke.’

      Nat said dryly, ‘Pretty impressive joke.’

      But she could see what he meant now as he flicked on some more low lights. The furnishings definitely ran to a more…feminine bent. But perversely, it only highlighted the intense masculinity of the man who was now prowling towards her and looking so intense that she shivered with anticipation.

       Chapter Four

      Nat half expected him to sweep her up and carry her straight to the bedroom because he looked so feral, but Salim stopped before her and put out his hand. When Nat looked down and put her hand in his, she realised that she was shaking.

      ‘I want to get to know you better.’

      Nat looked at Salim, her hand in his. Not what she’d expected to hear. She almost felt disappointed, and then he said with a wicked grin, ‘And I don’t mean by talking.’

      His shirt was open at the neck and he leant down and took Nat’s bag out of her hands, throwing it onto a chair. Then he led her over to a couch and sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

      A shaky breath left her chest. He felt so firm underneath her, unyielding, hard. He looked at her for a long moment and then lifted a hand to push her hair off her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her bared neck. Tingles chased over her skin, causing goosebumps.

      She felt the arm of the couch against her back and sagged against it a little. Her bottom rested in the cradle of Salim’s lap and she could feel his erection under her flesh. He pulled back and cradled her head with a big hand, his other hand coming to rest on her thighs.

      Anticipation tightened. He moved his hand down her thighs and legs, smoothing over bare skin, until he got to her feet and slipped her shoes off each foot. They fell with a muted thud to the carpet.

      This burningly intense yet lazy seduction wasn’t what Nat had expected. It was as if Salim wanted to savour every tiny moment. And it made her melt even more.

      He angled her head towards him, his other hand coming back up her legs, so slowly she had to bite her lip. He went under the material of her dress, and rested his hand on her upper thighs, and then he pulled her head towards him and he slanted his mouth over hers, and all Nat could feel was heat.

      She wound her arms around his neck, hands shaping his skull, feeling the short silky strands of his hair. The kiss was dark, decadent, slow and sexy. Breaths mingling and coming harsher as it went deeper and deeper.

      Without even realising it, Nat was angling her body into Salim, pressing her buttocks against him, wriggling ever so slightly to assuage the burning ache between her legs, which got worse when she felt him so hard underneath her.

      His hand moved around, under her thighs, gathering her into him and then suddenly he stopped and Nat stopped too. She pulled away, breathing harshly, dizzy. His hand was resting right over the puckered skin of her scar.

      His eyes were burning. ‘Where you got shot?’

      She nodded, mouth dry, because he looked so fierce all of a sudden.

      ‘Merde.’ The curse was harsh in the quiet room. In direct contrast to how gentle his fingers were, on her scar. Nat felt shaky. ‘It’s ok, I’m ok now. It was a long time ago.’

      Salim shook his head and rested his forehead against hers for a moment. ‘That’s why I got out…too much pain and horror. It was eating away at my soul.’

      A well of emotion made Nat bring her hand around to touch his jaw. She just said softly, ‘I know.’

      And then because she couldn’t resist, she pressed her mouth to his again and let their desire burn everything away but here and now. When Nat realised that Salim had pushed aside her dress and pulled down the lace cup of her bra, he was already cupping the flesh of her breast, her nipple a sharp point against his dark skin.

      She lay back, panting, her bottom moving restlessly on his lap, against his hard arousal. He looked at her and smiled wickedly before lowering his head to her breast, its plump flesh being offered to him like some sort of succulent invitation.

      He flicked his tongue against her and she groaned, watching with greedy eyes as his teeth nipped gently at the turgid flesh, before soothing with his tongue. His dark hair and face against the paleness of her skin was erotic in the extreme.

      When he finally closed his mouth around her nipple and drew it into his mouth, her head fell back against the couch, she arched against him in a silent plea and her hands wound into his hair, holding his head.

      He stopped cupping her flesh to undo her dress, tugging it open completely, and Nat urged him on, rolling her hips now, hearing his low growl of approval against her breast.

      When his hand moved down over her belly and cupped her burning mound, she went still. Her legs fell open and he smiled against her, lifting his head to watch the reaction on her face when he explored

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