“Get the yacht ready. We will leave early in the morning.”
Vidar couldn’t stop thinking about Fallon. Her pretty face kept drifting into his mind distracting him from his work. Last night had been interesting to say the least. She was formidable when she was angry and boy, had she been angry. She refused to talk to him. This constant silent treatment seemed to be her only defence against him and her captivity and she was going to make damn sure he was going to suffer from it. Perhaps this coldness between them would always exist. He hadn’t cared at first. All he’d wanted was revenge and his Danegeld as Ethan Prince had so eloquently called it. But she was seeping under his skin, reminding him he was a caring, loving man not just the Viking he had been playing to public effect the last few years. He’d thought that man had died a long time ago but her callous cold behaviour was making him protective, determined, and fatherly towards her.
Fallon had been abused by her father and the men in her life. She didn’t trust men at all and he couldn’t blame her. She had more than enough reason to feel that way, but now he wanted her to see he was different and, in time, perhaps they could make this strange relationship work. The more angry she was with him, the more feisty and stubborn she became, the more he wanted to possess her and trap her, like the fragile butterfly she was, in his arms and make her willingly submit to his mastery.
Bloody fool. There is no chance of her ever feeling like that after what you’ve done to her. Still, I like a challenge. And I always get what I want and I will take you, Fallon Prince for my own.
He had never given up on a challenge and he would not be deterred this time either. Even if it meant he needed to come on a little stronger to force out her natural, beautiful, submissive nature she kept hiding that screamed at him for release every time he went near her. Fallon Prince was a wounded woman and was equally determined not to let anyone in. He was going to have to knock down all of the defences she had placed around her, storm her castle, and carry her out to freedom over his shoulder as a conquered woman.
Frustrated, he stopped answering emails and rubbed his face. It was no use. He had to see her. He’d left her locked in the cabin on his super yacht forcing her to rest after she’d complained of feeling unwell and threatened to jump overboard and swim to the nearest shore to escape him and gain her freedom, damn it.
He hoped the pain in her stomach, which she had been trying to hide from him this morning, was gone. If it wasn’t stress, like he’d thought at first, then it might be her period. When he’d questioned her about it she had been evasive and curt convincing him it might well be her period and she was suffering from PMT. Courteously he had given her space and waited for her to ask if she could wear underwear at night because of her period but she hadn’t and she appeared to be getting worse with her temper. Last night on the yacht she had thrown a vase in the dining area at him because he had made the mistake of trying to help her when she was in pain. She wanted nothing from him. To his dismay she appeared to be in the same angry state when he woke early this morning when they’d hit bad weather in the North Sea and he’d found her trying to sleep in the chair by the side of the bed away from him, her eyes wide and nervous as the yacht moved from side to side. He had promptly got up and picked her struggling form up into his arms and put her back in the bed threatening to spank her over his knee if she tried to move again. That appeared to do the trick and she remained still.
He’d shaken his head when she turned the other way. In one firm movement he drew her against his chest, trapping her there acutely aware she appeared very nervous of the rough weather rocking the boat and needed to feel safe. The Billionaire had expected resistance but to his surprise he had received none. He couldn’t help but smile as he buried his face in her hair loving the smell of peach coming from it. She was still asleep when he woke and he decided to leave her there to rest. It was the first time he had seen her content and at peace in her sleep. Vidar hadn’t been able to resist brushing his lips over her own stealing a kiss before he left. Now that the sea was calmer he wondered if she would be ready to eat some breakfast. She’d looked a little nauseous with the yacht’s movement through the night but that should have settled now.
Before returning to the cabin he went down to the galley and got the chef to make her some breakfast. Pancakes with fruit and syrup, croissants with hot fresh coffee. He took the tray with the food and prepared to leave then stopped in the lounge on the way up noticing one of his staff preparing a display of fresh roses and other flowers as though he were picking up on Vidar’s romantic mood. When he remarked on it, Pietro told him, “We have a beautiful woman on board. She should be surrounded with roses.”
It put an idea in his head.
“Can you spare a rose and a vase?” he asked.
Pietro had grinned and dutifully retrieved him a small tall slender vase and placed a long-stemmed red rose minus the
