Kidnapped For His Royal Heir (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Maya Blake

‘Enough of this, Violet,’ he breathed, his voice a dangerous volcanic rumble that merely heightened her sensual awareness of him. ‘It’s been two weeks.’

  In a wild bid to reverse the frantic beat of her heart at his proximity, she took her time to slot her bookmark between the pages of her novel before tossing it on a console table nearby. Only then did she gather every shred of composure to meet his eyes. ‘If it’s too much for you, you know what you need to do to end it.’

  For a long stretch he didn’t answer, the only sound in the room the lazy whirling of the ceiling fan. And her agitated breathing.

  His gaze raked her body before returning to rest on her face. ‘You intend to go on letting us both suffer in silence?’

  ‘Which one bothers you more, the suffering or the silence?’ she asked, noting again how her voice missed the flippancy she’d aimed for.

  An arrogant, sexy smile draped his lips, even while his eyes remained shrewd, watchful. Calculating. ‘You wish me to bare myself so you can subject me to even more of the same treatment?’

  Her smile was saccharine sweet. ‘If you would be so kind.’

  The smile evaporated. Her skin tingled and her senses jumped as rigid purpose tightened his features. He leaned forward until his lips were a scant inch from her ear. ‘Did you not learn your lesson about crossing swords with me in Tanzania, Violet?’ he murmured softly, dangerously in her ear.

  She couldn’t stop the shiver that racked her frame. She angled herself away from him, aware she was in danger of disgracing herself by toppling over but not caring in that moment. ‘Are you threatening me?’ Why did the very thought make her senses shiver in anticipation, make the flesh between her legs swell with need?

  ‘I’m threatening you with the exact reaction you’ve been hoping for since embarking on this...escapade.’

  Just like in Tanzania, just like in every interaction he’d ever had with this breathtaking creature, Zak felt unnerved, unbalanced. For as long as he could remember, every moment of his life had been shaped in strict conformity, that secret yearning to be an exemplary son to a seemingly exemplary father directing him to life in the military. While he’d had his share of liaisons, they’d been discreet, with no incidence of drama that might bring embarrassment to him or his family.

  His father had not only betrayed him and everything Zak had believed was an honourable legacy, he’d plunged his entire family into scandal and endangered Montegova. That time was seared onto his psyche, had driven him to be extremely circumspect in his own relationships. He staunchly believed his immunity to soft words and lofty promises granted him a gratifying insight into people’s true characters. He’d learned never to accept anyone at face value. Never to fall into seductive traps.

  So far, his only stumbling blocks had been an unforgettable kiss six years ago, a moment of insanity at a stunning waterfall, and a ruthless decision to kidnap.

  All incidents that involved Violet.

  The unsettling part of it all was...he wouldn’t change a single thing.

  With each passing day, he wanted the child in her womb with a deeper fervour. Blood of his blood. Flesh of his flesh. Under his care.

  A chance to rewrite history?

  Perhaps it was a little selfish, but what if he achieved the impossible and got right what his father had got so wrong? What if he engendered loyalty, trust, integrity...even affection in his child, traits he’d believed were a cornerstone of his own life until he’d discovered otherwise. What if he could help his heir...thrive?

  Wasn’t that worth pursuing this course of action with Violet? Wasn’t it worth living temporarily with this hollow pit in his stomach that whispered that he could fail?

  He wouldn’t, of course. He couldn’t. This was too...vital. But he did admit things hadn’t turned out the way he’d envisaged.

  For starters, he’d expected her to throw a tantrum. Perhaps even pout and plead while she pretended to play hard to get over his proposal. Right before she fell into line with his wishes.

  Instead she’d treated him with cool, sustained, never-ending indifference.

  It grated. He was used to women falling over themselves to gain his attention. Had experienced it at a near nauseating level at Remi’s wedding when, with his brother newly off the market, even more avid eyes had turned his way.

  On that occasion, he’d withstood their interest simply to avoid the temptation to stare at and fill his senses again with Violet at every opportunity.

  Now he wanted an engagement of a specific sort. The kind that gave him free rein to touch her glowing skin, to attract a smile that didn’t start and end with mild disdain.

  To have her not deliver that vacant smile when their paths crossed, then look through him as if he wasn’t there. The first few days he’d been amused. Then he’d been irritated.

  Then a dismaying feeling had overwhelmed him that she was getting steeped in this role she’d determinedly taken to freeze him out. It was that feeling ballooning out of proportion that’d ejected him from his study in the middle of a workday, his concentration a shambles of shattered focus and intense vexation. The sensation of losing time and ground with Violet had demanded he seek her out, finally end this nonsense.

  Of course, the impact of her smooth golden skin, long-legged grace and those blue eyes had seemed more vivid each time he looked into them had all played a part, too, wreaking carnage with his body.

  So...one way or the other, the cold, silent treatment was ending now. Before he lost his mind.

  One side effect of pregnancy she’d dreaded was morning sickness. Another one Violet hadn’t quite anticipated was a heightened sense of smell.

  The moment she inhaled Zak’s unique masculine scent, her senses went into overdrive. Heat fired up in her pelvis, the blood rushed into her breasts, hardening her nipples as fine tremors invaded her body.

  In desperation, she licked her lips. His eyes darkened as he followed the swipe of her tongue, his chest expanding on a deep breath.

  ‘We’ll need to discuss this rationally sooner or later—’

  ‘Why do you want to saddle yourself with me, Zak?’ she blurted, her earlier misgivings furiously resurfacing. ‘You don’t even know me. Not really. And I don’t know you, save for what’s bandied about on the internet. I could be your worst nightmare. Let me go and in a few months’ time we can discuss shared custody—’

  ‘No.’ A blaze of possessiveness in his eyes accompanied the hard refusal.

  ‘You won’t even—’

  ‘Let’s change things a little,’ he said smoothly, intent eyes riveted on the pulse leaping at her throat.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Let’s call a temporary truce to all this nonsense. You say I don’t know you. So show me the real Violet Barringhall underneath all this stiff upper lip thing that I assure you has got quite tedious.’

  The offer tantalised and tempted. But it felt one-sided, especially in the light of her own thoughts about him only minutes ago. ‘What do I get in return?’

  ‘Reciprocity.’ Before her senses could jump in wild giddiness at the offer, he added, ‘Up to a point.’

  Disappointment bit deep. ‘You’re already ring-fencing your offer?’

  An inscrutable veil descended over his face. ‘I’m not in the habit of offering myself up carte blanche to anyone. I’m not going to start now.’

  Disappointment turned to hurt. Why was she surprised? She was just another being beneath his regard, one who just happened to be carrying his child.

  But since it was clear Zak intended to claim this child in one way or another, wasn’t she better off knowing the man better? Knowledge was power, wasn’t it?

  About to grudgingly accept his offer of a truce, she snatched in a breath as another scent pervaded her nostrils. Geraldine, the housekeeper, was probably preparing another delectable snack. But not one Violet’s
senses appreciated. She felt her stomach fold in on itself as nausea rose, harsh and fast.

  The frantic need to make it to the bathroom, to not disgrace herself, had her ducking beneath his arm.

  ‘Violet?’ Zak reached for her, concern etched into his face.

  She shook her head, fleeing towards one of the endless bathrooms in the villa. She barely made it before emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

  Over and over her insides surged as the mild morning sickness she’d experienced only once three days ago and had foolishly believed had permanently disappeared returned with a vengeance.

  She’d dislodged her hat during her mad dash, and now she felt strong, gentle hands gather her hair in a loose hold, away from the trajectory of her humiliation. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed the nausea down, grasping for a modicum of self-respect. Just as another bout hit her hard.

  ‘Easy, carina,’ Zak crooned in a deep, low voice, one hand sweeping down her back in a gentle caress.

  Spent and breathless, she laughed. Or at least attempted to. ‘There’s nothing easy about morning sickness. It’s horrible and humiliating and...’ She stopped, closed her eyes as tears threatened to compound her misery.

  ‘Si, I get the picture.’

  Opening her eyes, she glared at him. ‘And you standing there, looking like the spokesperson for health and vitality isn’t helping, trust me.’

  ‘I shall locate my sackcloth forthwith,’ he said with deep solemnity.

  Against all sense of self-preservation, her lips curved in a small smile. ‘This isn’t funny.’

  ‘No,’ he agreed.

  ‘Stop trying to humour me.’

  Again he nodded. ‘How can I help, Violet?’

  Utterly disarmed by the offer, she stared nonplussed for several seconds before reason kicked in. All this was for his child’s benefit. Nothing more. ‘You can go away.’

  ‘No. I believe you were about to accept my offer of a truce before this unfortunate incident. Let’s not ruin the progress we were making.’ The words slid smoothly from his lips, one hand held out to her while the other flushed the toilet.

  Perhaps she was weak. Perhaps she was tired of this chilly standoff that had achieved nothing but a stalemate and fleeting satisfaction at childish needling.

  Before she could stop herself, Violet slid her hand into his. He helped her up and led her to the marble-topped sink. From the discreet little vanity, he took out a bottle of mouthwash, poured a measure in a glass and handed it to her.

  ‘Thank you.’

  While she rinsed her mouth, and welcomed the minty taste that replaced the vileness, he ran a towel under cool water and dabbed it against her temples.

  It felt heavenly, so soothing she couldn’t hold back a moan.

  Zak froze, his eyes dark and ravenous as he stared down at her. Her breath caught, her temperature ramping up at the blatantly carnal gaze he didn’t bother to disguise. His hand continued its gentle ministrations, over her cheeks, her jaw, down to the wild tattoo beating at her throat.

  He noted the helpless little shiver that went through her, tossed the towel into the sink, then moved purposefully between her knees. Still pinning her with his potent gaze, he slid his fingers into her hair, angled her face up to his.

  ‘Wh-what are you doing?’

  ‘We’re having a moment, Violet. Just let it be,’ he rasped.

  A deep yearning to do exactly as he wished saturated her veins. But all he did was run his thumb over her lower lip, seemingly content to just caress her, while she craved more. So much more than was wise.

  Sharp disappointment lanced her when he stepped back and released her.

  His gaze remained latched on her mouth for another spell before his eyes rose to hers. ‘The truce, Violet. Will you accept it?’ he pressed.

  The thought of returning to cold detachment didn’t appeal. She didn’t intend to turn warm and fuzzy, she remained his captive after all. But... ‘Yes. But with a stipulation of my own.’

  He tensed. ‘Si?’

  ‘Three days. That’s all I’ll give you.’

  Determination blazed in his eyes. ‘One week.’

  She rolled hers. ‘Fine. One week. After that I’m getting off this island, even if I have to swim.’

  One brow mockingly cocked. ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Si,’ she mimicked him. ‘That, or I go back to driving you crazy.’

  His nostrils flared and something curiously close to relish lit his eyes before he veiled his expression. ‘Agreed.’

  It felt far too easy but with his iron-willed control back in place, she couldn’t read him. Especially not when he held out his hand again.

  ‘Despite your stubborn refusal to stray beyond the swimming pool, you must be dying to see the rest of the island.’

  She was. Especially the green hills teeming with vegetation that bordered the north side of the island. She looked down at herself. ‘Do I need to change?’

  His hot gaze raked her, leaving every exposed inch of her skin hyperaware and sensitive. ‘You’re fine as you are. Come.’

  Not even the imperious command eroded her excitement as they left the villa and headed for the fleet of sleek custom-made golf buggies she’d seen the staff use. Zak chose the most pristine one, a six-seater complete with air-conditioning and drinks cabinet.

  After seeing her seated, he slid behind the wheel. Violet averted her gaze from his strong, muscled thighs and the brawny forearms. She knew the chaos that body could wreak on hers.

  Despite having her world reduced to several thousand square feet for the last two weeks, albeit in unspeakable luxury, she experienced a trace of apprehension as they left the villa behind.

  Realising she was in danger of growing attached to her prison or, even worse, falling in love with Zak’s villa, she stopped herself from looking back, concentrating on the swaying palm trees that gradually gave way to denser vegetation and steeper hills.

  ‘How big is this place?’ she asked, desperate to dilute the sensually charged atmosphere and Zak’s unapologetic gaze that raked over her every few minutes.

  If she’d devised a way to drive him to the edge by her indifference, he’d found a much more effective way of returning the favour with his blatant scrutiny.

  ‘Altogether, it’s over three thousand square acres. There are three separate beaches and a natural diving platform, among several interesting things.’

  Those interesting things left her awed and dumbstruck.

  The island was ninety per cent self-sufficient. A small desalination and water purification plant recycled sea-and rainwater for the island, solar panels provided electricity and an unobtrusive water irrigation system served a farm that reared a handful of Wagyu beef cattle, free-range chickens and provided an extensive selection of vegetables.

  Despite the size of the island, it turned out that less than a quarter of the acreage had been developed, leaving the rest as a nature preserve with a dozen tastefully blended eco-lodges for the super-wealthy who wished to enhance their awareness of conservation.

  Violet didn’t want to be impressed but she couldn’t quite hide her stunned awe. Neither could she dismiss the troubling revelation that under normal circumstances she would’ve enjoyed spending time exploring the island. Even...stayed of her own free will.

  The wide-scale alarm she’d expected at the thought never arrived.

  God, what was wrong with her? Was she softening? Falling in love with her prison? Pardoning Zak when she should be fighting him every step of the way?

  ‘What were you doing in Australia?’ she asked, desperate to dredge up her outrage, remind herself that he couldn’t get away from her fast enough after Tanzania.

  Zak turned away from the bluff at the highest point of the island where they’d stopped to enjoy the breathtaking view. His shrug bore
no hint of regret. ‘That part of the world suffers the same humanitarian challenges.’

  ‘Did you leave to avoid me?’ she pressed. The question was infinitely presumptuous but she didn’t take it back. She needed to know. Despite her thumping heart. Despite the hurt that would accompany his confirmation.

  He stiffened, his eyes narrowing on her face. ‘Are we dropping our civility already, Violet?’

  ‘You think it’s uncivil to ask for the truth?’

  ‘Not at all. But are you prepared for the answer?’

  She bit the inside of her cheek, suddenly afraid of his answer. But wasn’t this a laying-yourself-bare exercise, at least on her part, so she would truly know the type of man she was dealing with?

  She swallowed, boldly met his gaze. ‘Yes.’

  His jaw tensed. Silence stretched, the wind ruffling his thick hair drawing her gaze to the perfection of his face. When he stepped closer, she gasped at the raw, carnal look in his eyes. ‘You’re not unaware of your beauty, Violet. I left because I didn’t trust my ability to stick to what we’d agreed.’

  ‘Wh-what are you saying?’

  He reached for a strand of hair, tossed against her cheek by the breeze. For another short stretch he caressed the silky tendril. Then he pierced her with his gaze. ‘That I would’ve wanted you in my bed, repeatedly, if I’d stayed in New York,’ he stated baldly.

  Her breath strangled to nothing, her body screaming awake at the imagery his words evoked. ‘Zak...’

  ‘I had to go to the other side of the world to get this...need under control.’

  ‘Was that all?’ The idea that there could be another reason, perhaps the same one that’d made him walk away from her that night six years ago, burned deep and painful. ‘I’m only asking because, despite this little confession, you barely acknowledged me at your brother’s wedding,’ she said, hating herself for the lash of jealousy and irritation the reminder brought.

  Or was she fooling herself? Was it just bruised pride? Or something more precious?

  She pushed the thought away as he laughed. ‘You believe you’re that easily forgettable?’ With the growled words, he reached for her, driving his fingers into her hair.