Chapter 8
“Goran?” Calista called out, smoothing her hands back and forth in the clear water of their private pool. She sniffed the air. It was still clean and earthy, with a hint of the salt in the pool, but there was something else. Something that smelled…off. “Something is burning!”
There’d been a clattering of pans and puffs of smoke coming from their small kitchenette for the past hour. She’d also heard a few muttered expletives, but she’d merely ignored all of it as she read her book. When Calista had become too hot, she’d slipped into the water to cool off.
“This is the life,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she took another sip of the chilled white wine she’d poured herself earlier.
“What’s the life?” Goran demanded, stepping through one of the sliding glass doors to the stone patio. He sat down in one of the patio chairs, a cold beer in his hand. Unfortunately, a whole wardrobe of clothing had been delivered earlier this morning, so Goran was now wearing a pair of navy blue board shorts. Thankfully, he’d disdained a shirt, so Calista’s eyes were free to roam over his broad, muscular chest.
Calista pulled her eyes away from him, afraid of becoming addicted to the sight of him. And his touch. And his scent. As soon as this kidnapping issue was resolved, she and Goran would go back to their real lives. And all of the beautiful touches and sighs and the lovely pleasure of just being with him would die away, just as it had during their engagement.
“This,” she replied, answering his question with a sigh as she swirled around in the pool. “No public appearances. No comments on some vicious person’s social media page about how I’ve gained five pounds or I look pale or,” she groaned, “pregnancy speculation.”
“That happens?” he asked, his whole body tightening with anger on her behalf.
“Of course it happens,” she replied. “Women especially are vicious. You’d think that we’d learn how to be gentle with our comments because we know how much they can hurt. But we don’t.”
“Why is that?”
Calista shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t go on social media anymore, although I hear about the comments when I read the news. So I don’t know exactly who is saying the comments about my weight or my hair or the cut of my suit or whether I cross my legs in a lady-like fashion or if I accidentally show a bit too much thigh when I get out of a vehicle.” She sighed and visibly relaxed. “I don’t know who says those comments, but I know they are repeated in the media and online.”
There was a long silence, but Calista could hear him thinking even when she was on the other side of the pool.
“Is that why you appear so tense when you’re out in public?” he finally asked.
She smiled, but didn’t bother to open her eyes. “Yes. It’s miserable. Being a public figure, but without any other official responsibilities, is tough.” She shifted her arms and looked at him. “If I had some sort of public job, then I could lose myself in that persona. I can handle someone criticizing my ideas. I can change my mind, or I can incorporate someone else’s opinion into my ideas.” She shifted in the water. “What I can’t do is lose weight instantly. I can’t make my hair look perfect when it is one hundred and thirty degrees outside and I’m wearing a long sleeve silk blouse underneath a long-sleeved suit jacket. It’s hot,” she said. “And I can’t change the color of my makeup as quickly as I can change my outfit, even when I try to choose similar colors for all of the events to which I’m scheduled to appear during the day.”
He stared at her for a long moment until Calista finally turned around, stepping out of the pool. She grabbed a towel to dry off, covering herself despite the relatively conservative bathing suit she’d donned. Grabbing her glass of wine, she took a long sip, trying to release the stress that had accumulated in her shoulders during that tirade.
“Sorry,” she said when she sat down in the chair opposite him. “I know it’s silly of me to whine when I have literally every advantage. But some of the comments people write about me are hard to take.”
“I can’t imagine what you go through,” he said softly.
Calista shook her head as she took another sip of her wine. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Goran,” she told him firmly. “I’m a princess. I’ve traveled to places that others would only dream of seeing. I’ve had incredible experiences and learned languages and had private tutors. If there was something I wanted to do, then I should have stepped forward to do it.”
“But we live in a male dominated society. Because you’re a princess, you’re a role model. If you stepped out of your role, then you would be subject to even harsher criticism.”
She bowed her head for a moment contemplatively, then lifted her eyes to stare back at him. “That’s what I used to think,” she finally replied. “Then I met Rachel, my new sister-in-law. She had Astir jumping through hoops prior to their wedding date. And even after, she is brilliant. She never takes any of his sexist crap. She ignores everyone’s opinions and just does what she does best. He told her that she wouldn’t be able to continue her lifestyle vlogging business after the wedding. But the woman is brilliant at coming up with new ideas for people to do at home, ways to make their worlds better or prettier. She ignored my brother and just did her thing.” Calista sighed and looked out at the dense foliage. “Rachel could have relaxed and lived the life of a pampered wife.” She snorted. “Astir tends to spoil her until she tells him to stop.” She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “And even after she tells him to stop, he continues with small, lovely gifts, all of which are personally selected by my older brother in order to make her happy.” She laughed. “It’s quite startling to watch them together.”
“You get along well with your younger sister?”
Calista nodded. “Yeah. It was Ayla and me against Astir for years!’ She laughed, thinking back to previous pranks. “We loved it when he came back from university.”
“Why is there such an age difference between you and your brother?”
Her smile faded and she shrugged one shoulder. “My mother got very sick after giving birth to Astir. After that nightmare, my father refused to let her get pregnant again until she laid down the law. But it took her another few years after that to convince him that she was strong enough to have more children.”
“And Rachel? Is her pregnancy okay?”
Calista nodded, thinking back. “Rachel is a strong, powerful woman! Astir kept trying to get her to sit down and take things easy during her pregnancy. But Rachel refused, telling him that pregnancy was a normal part of life and not a disease.”
“Still, pregnancy is hard on a woman’s body.”
“Yes, it’s very hard. But it’s also a gift.”
“You want children?” he asked softly.
Calista smiled, nodding slowly. “Yes. Eventually. I’d like a large family. Lots of kids.”