“Please—”
Her cries fall on deaf ears as I loosen the rope around her wrists and jerk her arms up above her head to secure them in the last two restraints. When I step back to examine my masterpiece, I’m not quite certain I ever want to take her down. She’s a deity up on my altar, and it would be just as tempting to worship her, which leaves me feeling unsettled.
Yes, she’s pretty, but she’s just a toy. A vessel to provide me a distraction and a release. If this is going to work, I can’t allow myself to think otherwise. But I’m having difficulty remembering that with her blue eyes staring deep into my soul, rattling me on a level I’m not accustomed to.
“Where is Alfred?” she chokes out.
“Alfred?”
“The kitten.” Her voice wavers. “You didn’t… hurt him… did you?”
Her assumption prickles more than it should. To hear that her opinion of me is really that low irritates me more than all the others. I’ve been accused of many things in my life, but barbarity toward innocent animals isn’t one of them.
“The kitten is fine,” I answer sharply. “He was safely tucked away in the barn when we left.”
She eyes me suspiciously but seems to accept what I’m telling her as the truth. “Are you going to leave me here like this?”
“Did you have any doubts that I wouldn’t?” I trace the line of her jaw beneath my fingers, and she shivers. “That is the point of punishment. You will grasp this concept soon enough, should you accept my offer.”
“Are you telling me I have a choice?” she challenges.
“You always have a choice.” I shrug. “You chose to sneak into the palace and lie about your identity. You chose to get into my line with an ulterior motive, passionately delivering a speech for those animals you wish to help. And finally, you chose to get into my car, and now here you are. You’ve come this far in your pursuit. You just have one last decision to make.”
“What is it?” She swallows.
“You can go back to England to face the consequences of your fraudulent actions at the palace, or you can choose to save your precious sanctuary.”
Her shoulders cave inward, but she lifts her chin, determined to show her bravery. “What would I have to do?”
The words sound like sweet music to my ears, but I refuse to let my victory show. I already know what she will choose. This woman doesn’t have an ounce of self-preservation in her body. She isn’t capable of being selfish, and despite the light that shines out of her like sunbeams, I can recognize the darkness in her too.
“Two months,” I tell her. “Two months of doing whatever I want, whenever I say. You will submit to me, and you will please me. And for every day you spend in my captivity, serving me, I will donate a sum of three thousand pounds to the Hilliard Animal Sanctuary. And when our time comes to an end, I will donate one additional lump sum based on how satisfied I am with our time together.”
Silently, she does the math in her head, calculating how many animals she could save with this money she so desperately wants. But doubt still lingers in her eyes. She doesn’t know if she can trust me.
“I will make the first donation by the end of the day, should you choose to accept, and you will have the evidence of each receipt delivered to your room by morning.”
She doesn’t answer me right away. It’s taking longer than I anticipated as she debates her options, and I can’t have that.
I check my watch and issue an ultimatum. “You have thirty seconds to accept or decline my offer before I remove it entirely.”
“Yes!” she blurts, horrified by her response. “I accept.”
“Very well.” I give her one last lingering touch before I turn my back on her. “I’ll be back later, gudinne.”
12
Thorsen
“Thorsen!” My mother gasps when I walk into the room. “What on earth happened to you?”
Calder raises a brow at me, doing a poor job of hiding his curiosity. He knows the gash on my head wasn’t there this morning when he saw me, but he won’t argue when I give my mother an excuse.
“It’s nothing. I slipped and hit my head on my morning run.”
My mother gestures for her nurse to wheel her closer so she can fuss over my wound, inspecting it as if I might bleed out before her eyes. She worries too much, but I never deny her these moments to show she cares because this is what she lives for.
“Calder said you requested to meet with me.” I take a seat beside her, and she offers me a warm smile.
“Indeed.” She reaches out for my hand, and I resist the urge to recoil from human touch as I usually do, for her sake.
“How are you feeling today?” I ask.
“I’m just fine.” She waves my concerns away. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, good, you’re here.” My father enters the room with the subtlety of a hurricane. “Have you told him yet, Frida?”
“Told me what?”
He takes a seat beside my mother, narrowing his focus on me. My mother looks worried, and she removes her hand to touch his arm, her gentle way of letting him know she wants to deliver this news, whatever it is. Still, he chooses to disregard her.
“We have been informed by your secretary that you’ve been gallivanting around England to find some mystery woman from the ball.”
My body becomes unnaturally still, and I glance at Calder, who seems just as concerned as I am about where this conversation might be heading.
“It seems she made quite an impression on you,” my mother adds softly. “So, I think you will be happy to hear we have discovered the very woman you were looking for.”
“You have?” Alarm stirs inside me.
The king nods briskly, a lingering note of bitterness in his tone that I never accepted Princess Yasmine. “We have invited her and her family to stay at the palace for a length of one month. Adequate time for you to get to know her in a controlled setting. After which, we can announce your engagement.”
“Engagement?” I scoff. “You want me to marry… who exactly?”
“It’s the woman from London,” my mother answers hopefully. “Lavinia Maddison.”
The air in my lungs turns to ice as the consequences of my behavior comes back to haunt me. I was aware that Hayes would run back to my parents with this information, but I could never have imagined they would bring that dreadful woman here.
“Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourselves?” Calder asks. “He barely knows this woman. You can’t expect him to marry her after one month—”
“I have been patient for long enough!” My father slams his fist down onto the table. “Your mother has gone to a lot of trouble to bring this woman here. I’ve given you time and space. I’ve indulged your refusals of perfectly suitable women. But you can no longer afford to shun your responsibilities. I will see you married in three months, and this is not negotiable.”
I bite my tongue as my mother’s face crumples. She’s visibly shaken, and I seem to be the only one who remembers that stress can aggravate her condition.