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“Donja,” he said with a dazzling smile, pearly white teeth contrasted by his ebony skin. “What took you so long?” He beamed like an old friend, striding toward her with torrents of dark curly hair trouncing his muscular shoulders.
Donja took a step back. He was tall, well over six feet with a sculptured body, not a day over twenty. He carried himself with superiority and though he was not exceedingly handsome, he looked masterful…virile.
He slowly circled her.
She held her breath.
He passed her face again and again, setting a gravitational path, Earth to the moon, his nostrils flaring.
She exhaled, her chest tight.
Finally, he stopped, facing her and with one hand to his abdomen, the other to his back, took a sweeping bow. “Magnificent,” he whispered, as he took a step closer and extended his hand to her hair, which he took between his fingers. Towering over her, he bent forward, smelling it like a dew-kissed rose. He briefly closed his eyes savoring the scent and then he released the lock, which fell gently upon her chest.
He shivered, without regret, licking his lips. “Forgive me, but I can’t believe it’s you. I have waited so long and though my father promised he would find you, I must admit, I had all but given up and yet,” he paused, “here you are in the flesh.”
Donja swallowed hard and finding a shot of courage, tucked her hair behind her ears. “Who are you?” she asked with a voice that sounded foreign.
His lips curled. “Your destiny,” he whispered.
“Please,” Donja sobbed, the weight of the last few days taking its toll. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Please, I beg you, let me go.”
“Trixie!” he called out, with his unwavering eyes locked on Donja.
“Yes,” she cooed, gliding down the stairs.
“Take Donja to her room. We will dine at seven with my father.” He turned and marched for the stairs.
“Wait, don’t go!” Donja staggered forward, swallowing tears as she dropped to her knees, “I want to go home…please,” she begged, her tears falling.
He paused with one hand on the bannister. He turned his head, his body rigid. “You are home, my love—finally home.”
Trixie pulled Donja to her feet, leading her up the winding stairs. Down a vast hallway adorned with opulent splendor, Trixie opened a door and Donja stepped inside a lavish suite done in pearl white with lavender and lace. “This is your room,” she said. “The bath is off to the right, beyond the closet and there’s a library past the sitting room. The doors do not open, the windows are bullet proof and you and I both know, there is no way out, so submit, Donja.”
Donja spun holding the door for support. “Submit, my God, do you hear what you’re saying. I’ve been abducted, this is unbelievable!” She sobbed hysterically. “It’s criminal!”
“Now, now,” Trixie whispered, shaking her head. “Count your blessings, he’s a great lay if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh my God,” Donja gasped, “are you crazy?”
Trixie laughed so unnaturally that it reminded Donja of a crazed psycho in a horror movie.
“You’re sick,” Donja gushed as Trixie grabbed the doorknob.
“No, I’m quite healthy my dear, don’t fight it, just give in.”
“Give in!” she screamed, her voice reverberating. “To what, abduction, rape and God knows what else you people have in store for me?”
“A word of advice,” Trixie said, forcefully removing Donja’s hand from the door. “Make this easy for him, else there will be hell to pay. He’s suffered enough,” she said as she attempted to close the door.
“Who is he?” Donja called out, grabbing it with her hand.
Trixie glanced back. “Silly girl, he’s your husband-to-be, and like a I said, you’re damn lucky that he’ll make you his consort.”
“Lucky, that proves it,” she sputtered, swallowing tears, “you’re a psycho and he’s out and out insane if he thinks I’ll marry him!”
Trixie’s face hardened. “How dare you speak of him like that. If it wasn’t for fear of losing him, I’d knock you on your ass right now, so count your blessings, bitch.”
“Losing him…my God, what are you talking about. Who are you?”