A night in his arms, but it comes at a price. Will her heart survive?
Billionaire Marc Castell, owner of the Castell Hotel Group, isn’t looking for love. His jet-set lifestyle means he’s a ‘love them and leave them’ type of guy…that is, until Kate McKenna walks into his life.
Kate is on the warpath. Her underage sister is planning to spend a weekend in Paris with Marc’s nephew, and she’s determined to put a stop to the affair before it begins.
Marc has a plan of his own. He promises to save Kate’s sister from his nephew, but there’s a condition attached. Kate has to travel to Cannes with him and play the part of his girlfriend―including spending the night in his bed. Marc hopes this will solve the problem of the unwanted advances he’s been receiving from his friend’s wife. But whenever Marc takes Kate in his arms his world is turned upside down, and he discovers he wants more from her than a casual weekend fling.
Kate has no time for sexy, powerful playboys. She’s too busy building her career and expanding her catering business. But when she gets to know the man behind the façade, she wonders if she can resist the sensual attraction growing between them. Will she be seduced by his charm and sacrifice everything she believes in for one night of passion in his arms?
Marc has a battle on his hands as he strives to win Kate’s love…and her heart.
“Mr. Castell, there’s a Ms. Kate McKenna to see you, sir.”
The door to Castell’s office was ajar, and from across the spacious foyer Kate could hear the receptionist asking him if he would see an unexpected visitor.
Kate heard his firm response. It was a loud, clear, and decisive “No.”
Before Kate had time for second thoughts, she sprung from her chair, grabbed her handbag, and made a beeline across the hall toward the lion’s den. She was like a torpedo on a self-destruct mission. Nothing was stopping her. Not even the defenseless receptionist guarding the door to the inner sanctum of Castell’s office.
Barging into the room, Kate stood her ground. At last she was facing Castell—the man she’d come to see—and she wasn’t moving...at least not until she’d said what she’d come to say.
The enemy was before her, and with an impatient, defiant toss of her head she waited undaunted for his reaction. None came. There was no backlash of anger and no verbal assault of harsh, insensitive words. The man remained silent.
A stony quietness filled the room, and without commentary, he observed her as if making a cold, calculating assessment of her. Sitting at his desk, he leaned backward, relaxing into the backrest of his swivel chair, and with dark, mysterious eyes he examined Kate from the top of her head to her feet, and he wasn’t missing a thing.
Kate was dressed in a pair of faded jeans that was a size too small, and a skimpy cotton top which was a little too short. Some people might think her outfit looked casual and too sexy for such opulent surroundings, but today she didn’t care what she looked like. She was in no mood to worry one iota what others thought.
She wasn’t there to impress. She was there, at Castell House in Grosvenor Square, the headquarters of the Castell Hotel Group in London, to deliver her message and get her point across. She was going to make it crystal clear to Mr. “Casanova” Castell that he was to keep his hands off her sister Nikki.
Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, and she was ready to do battle. Even though her heart was hammering fiercely in her chest, she was holding her nerve.
She guessed Castell must be in his early thirties. Power and authority was oozing from him, and against her will, she found herself physically drawn toward him. There was an instant attraction, a compelling pull. And she didn’t know if her anger was fueling her emotions or if it was his magnetism.
Now she understood why Nikki was attracted to him. She could see and feel the chemistry he radiated for herself. Castell was an impressive figure of a man and one look from those dark, piercing eyes left her enthralled.
Jet-black hair touched the collar of his crisp, white shirt. He was clean-shaven, bronzed, and an uber-smart dresser. At a guess she’d say he was wearing a hand-made Savile Row suit, but she could be wrong. His suit jacket was draped around the back of his chair, but it didn’t really matter, because she knew that whatever Castell wore he would look like the high-powered finance magnet he was.
Standing in front of his desk, she was aware of his penetrating gaze. There was no mistaking the attraction in his eyes. He was assessing her, weighing her up, and Kate could tell by the slow, seductive smile showing on Castell’s face that he was interested.
It had taken a lot of effort and nerve on her part to get past the barrage of security personnel protecting him. But she’d done it. And she was sure that was something very few people had managed to achieve.
In the stillness of the room Kate felt something stir deep within her, and for a brief moment she thought she saw a flicker of the same desire mirrored on his face.
Castell was the most magnificent looking man she’d ever seen, and as he shuffled the papers he’d been reading, she wondered what it would be like to feel those strong, masculine hands on her body. She could only imagine the heated torture they would inflict, but it was a heated torture she was certain any woman would be willing to endure.
He was sex on legs, and with his potent looks she could understand why, and how, any woman, including her sister, would feel sexually drawn to him. She sensed it would be so easy to succumb to his wishes and bend to his will.
“That will be all, Clair,” Castell said to the receptionist in his deeply emphasized French accent.
Tingles ran up and down Kate’s spine at the sound of his voice. That sexy voice was enough to make any woman go weak at the knees.
Clair left the room, and as the door closed behind her Castell pointed to a sofa at the far end of the room, indicating for Kate to sit down.
“Take a seat. I shan’t be long,” he said. Then, ignoring her as if she were no longer present in the room, he returned to the pile of paperwork in front of him.
Looking at the man working behind the desk, Kate realized he wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She’d thought Eduardo Castell would be nearer Nikki’s age. This man wasn’t, and it made the situation worse than she’d originally thought it was. Castell was no young adolescent. He was a mature adult who was, at a guess, at least twice her sister’s age.
“I need to talk to you about Nikki,” she said with resolution in her voice. She wasn’t going to be brushed off or dismissed out of hand. She was going to make herself heard.
“And I said sit.” He didn’t even look up.
Kate opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. On trembling legs she went to the far side of the room, tossed her handbag carelessly onto one of the sofas, and taking a seat, waited for the overbearing, obnoxious Mr. Castell to finish what he was doing.
Copyright © 2016, Arabella Sheen
Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.
Electronic Publication: August 2016
Editor: Pamela Tyner
Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Arabella Sheen http://www.arabellasheen.co.uk/