He stared out the window at the slender figure sitting on the bench in the gardens surrounded by bare rose bushes, green shrubs and gray Greek statues. His frustration mounted finding Yasmina outside especially after he gave a specific order for her to stay inside the castle. Preferably in her room. Perhaps, after days of confinement, she hadn't been able to resist the urge to get out and roam around.

But her defiance at his orders sizzled his skin.

He watched her reach down for his gardeners cat–Sonno, a fitting name for the cat meaning sleep in Italian. He'd come across the feline many times and found it curled up in some corner fast asleep in the courtyard or taking a lazy stroll in the gardens.

Sonno turned his big yellow eyes on her and blinked indifferently. Jasmine kneeled, holding out her hand to the scruffy gray cat. The movement made her thin shirt ride up, baring a palm's width of pale skin between waist band and hem. If she were his wife he would go out there, surprise her and put a hand on that innocently exposed skin. He could slide his fingers beneath her shirt, exploring the length of her spine. She'd arch into his touch like a sleek little cat, turning her head to look at him, the depths of her stormy eyes swirling with desire and need.

Aware that his pants were suddenly much too tight, Cristiano cursed and spun away from the window. What the hell was he thinking? He racked a hand through his hair. His wife? Of all the words he could think of why would he choose wife?

You fool, because it was the only way you would be able to have her. She would never surrender herself to you willing as all the other women you've had! She requires love and commitment. Marriage.

He recalled her words to him the night he cornered her in the elevator. I have high standards and require love and a marriage proposal before I would allow any man to touch me.

With a shake of his head, Cristiano scoffed out loud. In this day of age, it was rare to find a woman or man, for that matter, still holding off until marriage to engage in sexual pleasure. She was raised differently with a strict upbringing. Perhaps, that's what held his interest. She was a tempting little thing. Unique. Pure. Innocent in every sense of the word. Practicing restraint and celibacy were not qualities he was accustomed to. And it made him want her like a possessed man.

The fruit often tastes sweeter when its forbidden and no truer words were said.

What was it about her that he couldn't understand? Why was he so drawn to her? He'd known women more beautiful, far more welcoming. Why could he not stay away? Why couldn't he stop thinking about her or the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips?

Drawn against his will, Cristiano turned back to the window. Jasmine sat back on the stone bench, petting the settled cat on her lap. Jasmine's fingers stroked over the gray fur, less tattered looking than it had been. The cat leaned into her hand, and Cristiano found himself envying the animal the freedom to enjoy her touch.

He realized the direction his thoughts were heading and spun away from the window again, his dark brows hooking together in a frown. He was jealous of a cat! He thrust his fingers through his hair once more and glared at the silent phone on his desk. When was her brother going to show up so his people could locate his hereabouts and bring him to him?

If he was honest with himself, a part of him was slightly relieved they still hadn't found Zayn. It would bring an end of keeping Jasmine under his roof. The thought was enough to send him out of his office and then out of the castle. He was spending too much time in his office with nothing to do but think. And too much thinking could be hazardous for someone like him. Yet he was in no mood for company. He just wanted to take a brisk walk and get his thoughts in order.

It was a beautiful day in October, full of sunshine and singing birds. Cristiano paused at the edge of a step in the gardens. Some of his men were stationed at corners watching with critical eyes. Jasmine was deep in the gardens, past the mazes and stone paths, and out of his eyesight. Which didn't explain how he came to be in the gardens if he wasn't seeking company. Cristiano was restless with so much pent up energy he felt like he was going to explode if he didn't let out some steam. He tilted his head back and exhaled loudly, rolling his neck and shoulders.

He needed something to do. Something to help him relax. Something to help him forget. Cristiano opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at one of his guards.

"Get me a basketball and call Mateo to meet me at the court." He orders and strides far across the other end of the gardens to his in-home basket ball court.

Almost an hour later, Cristiano stepped into the cool interior of the castle. He was hot, sweaty and exhausted. And for the first time in weeks, completely relaxed. He rolled his shoulders, enjoying the pull of overworked muscles. He'd forgotten how much energy it took to play. He hadn't played since he was in college. Mateo proved to be challenging adversary. It had taken every bit of nearly forgotten skill he'd ever had to manage to hold his own. His men enjoyed the sport and regularly enjoyed a good match but he was never one to engage in the sport and he had a feeling his muscles were going to punish him for it tomorrow. At least it helped him from exploding. Cristiano took his shirt off to bare his chest and stopped abruptly.

He hadn't seen her standing in the hallway, just a few feet away as if she just left the gardens and came inside.

He saw her eyes snap into focus and zero in on him. He wasn't surprised as they widened the way they always did when the two of them meet. He saw panic and disbelief all warring with each other.

Their eyes met and then Jasmine's dropped to his bare chest and than to his hand which clutched his shirt. His mouth went dry and the tightness in his pants slowly increased. His fingers tightened over his shirt. Jasmine notices the movement and switches her gaze over his chest. He wanted to cross the few feet that separated them and pin her to his chest. To feel her palms against the mat of black hair and his heated skin. The strength of the urge was almost impossible as she jerked her eyes upward, staring at his face once more.

Either he was reading too much into her expression but he could almost read the hunger in her gaze and felt his whole body tighten in reaction. Every single inch of his skin crackled at the sexual tension. It became almost a living, breathing presence between them. All the tension he thought he worked off by the basketball game increased tenfold. He had only to cover the short distance that separated them and pull her into his arms and he was sure she wouldn't offer even a whisper of protest at the way his own hunger mirrored in her eyes.

His patience was wearing thin.

A small, sly voice whispered in his mind, nudging him toward what could only mean heaven for him. He took one step forward, his nostrils flaring. He wanted only a kiss. One kiss just to taste her essence. Just one kiss that would give him a clue of her desire for him. Because if it matched his, he was going to kiss herself senseless until she couldn't breath.

His eyes lingered on her mouth, Jasmine held her breath, unable to move the few inches that would allow him to take her into his arms. It hadn't presented too much of a challenge to avoid each other but every where she turned the scent of his cologne mingled in the air. On the rare occasions they passed, she had to remind herself of the fact that her heart beat faster when he was near. Every time she saw him she had to remember she was his prisoner. That she wasn't attracted to him. That every time he looked at her she didn't read the desire swirling in his dark eyes. She had to retain some grasp of reality no matter how fragile that hold was.

It was proving to be challenging when they met in her dreams, touching her, kissing her, holding her, doing naughty things she never imagined existed.

Jasmine straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, making a move to brush past him. However, he took a step to block her move. Jasmine backed a step. He moved a step forward. She tactfully moved to the right ready to dart passed him when he blocked her again with his body, spreading his arms out. The muscles in his chest flexed with the movement and it took all her will power not to look intimidated by his male beauty.

His muscle build was sleek, elegant, not bulky. The color of his complexion was gloriously golden-bronze while his jet black hair was slicked back, still slightly damp from his earlier exertions, she presumed.

"Where are you going, teroso?" He asked with a small smirk, challenging her to make another move.

Jasmine raised her eyes brows. "To my prison cell, of course." She answered with a snap. "Where else?"

"I gave strict orders to stay in your room until further instructions."

"Let me pass." She requested, holding on to her dignity although everything inside her wanted lash out and hit him.

Her hands clenched at her sides. Jasmine was never one to take lightly to orders and she wasn't about to listen to him of all people. He could shove his orders and his pompous demands and go to hell.

He didn't move, his total attention on her. Jasmine wasn't sure what she anticipated. In the back of her mind she half expected his arms would suddenly snap up and trap her so that any choice she had was taken away. But his large hands remained where they were–at his sides.

The sexually charged energy in the air was becoming worse. It was thick and almost suffocating.

This attractions between them was physical, carnal, like a drug they were having difficulty resisting. But during the week, where she did everything possible to avoid him, her resolve to keep him at arms length grew until she caught a glimpse of him. He, of course, was unsuspecting of her hiding in the corners and watching him in the shadows. Even unaware, the walls she set in place, his presence, his aura seemed to penetrate, seep through those erect walls without any effort.

She was dangerously attracted to a man she barely knew. Yet, she couldn't understand it. They've never had a civil conversation. They never got to know each other in any way. Every time they met was hostile and challenging. All he did was intimidate her, and all she did was fight him.

Jasmine avoided his gaze, refusing to soften toward him. He wanted her like another tally on his list and she was hell bent on avoiding being on that list which she was sure went on for miles.

Cristiano was ready to say something when he was stopped. Someone called out to him by his title, Your Highness.

Jasmine blew out a sigh of relief at the interruption as he turned to the source of the voice. She recognized the man, recalling his name as Mateo. He too looked sweaty and worn out. The shirt he wore clung to his skin and his hair was drenched. The man was tall and very well built in the shoulders. She had yet to come across an Italian man that wasn't good looking. They were blessed in the looks department.

Like Cristiano, he held a dark edge to him. But unlike, Cristiano's, Mateo's eyes were cold and hostile. He never smiled and would always stare her down as if he wished to scare her. She sensed he did not particularly care for her presence whenever they passed around the castle.

If he meant to intimidate her as his boss, it did quite the opposite. It fueled her hatred for the castle and all its inhabitants. These people under his roof represented him in every way, from the way they treated her to the food they fed her. Even the clothing hanging in the closet that she had no choice but to wear was his.

She watched the two men exchange whispers, heads bent in concentration. Taking the advantage of the distraction, Jasmine retreated down the hallway she came from and was nearly turning the corner when a firm hand clasped her arm. A startled cry left her lips as she was whipped back against a hard chest.

"I need you." Cristiano whispered against her ear.

With an intake of breath she stiffened.

A flutter of butterflies erupted in her stomach at his words and her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head. She was well aware of his naked chest pressed very firmly against her back. The beat of his heart pounded through her cardigan. She could feel every ripple of sinew muscle. His hot breath tickled the skin below her ear. Although his lips did not kiss the sensitive flesh of her neck, it felt like the imprint was already there on her skin.

Jasmine almost laid her head back against his shoulder and succumbed to the demand, the sensual command of his burning hot body when he says, "I meant, I need to speak to you about a very important manner." Clarifying his earlier declaration.

If Jasmine was stiff before, she turned into an ice sculpture as his words doused the desire brewing from the way their bodies were intimately positioned. She managed a curt nod which she was sure he could see since his face was inches from the side of her face. If she looked him in the eyes to answer, it would end in a kiss. His face was angled to receive one, and hers was so easy to turn, it would easily invite the brush of her lips against his.

"Come, let us go to my office." He steps away and turns.

The loss of his body heat and his towering frame caused her to shudder. Wrapping her arms around her middle, Jasmine stiffly followed him, staring at his broad muscular back. She wished he'd put his shirt on. Even his back looked like it was sculpted by an artist.

As if her thoughts were answered, a maid waited expectedly by his office doors, a white clean shirt ready in her hands. The girl blushed, handing him the garment. Mindless of her discomfort, Cristiano murmured his thanks in Italian and pulled the long sleeve over his head.

Jasmine bit her lip at the flex of muscle.

He pushes the door open, turns and gestured with his hand that she enter before him. Jasmine slipped by him soundlessly, making an effort not to brush his large form on her way in. It was a difficult when he was practically under the threshold but she managed it, ducking her head.

She inhaled a big gulp of air and instantly regretted it.

The entire study smelled of him. It was rich in his cologne and every piece of furniture in the room represented him one way or the other. Although she had a small glimpse when she saw him with another maid before her attempt to find Sammy, it was daylight this time and the whole room was flooded with sunlight. The rich dark hues of mahogany and polished black stood out again the light marble floor. Paintings of men and woman hung on the walls.

There was one particular picture that caught her attention. It was of a young beautiful woman and she resembled Cristiano. Her eyes stood out from her golden light skin and black hair. They were the color of sapphires and they were the most dazzling shade of blue she had ever seen. It wasn't hard to guess she must be Sofia, his sister. And after very little thought, Jasmine came to the quick conclusion she was the reason he named his club Sapphire after those beautiful eyes. Instead of commenting on it, she stood in the middle of the room as he came to stand behind his desk.

Jasmine watched him pull a drawer open and rummaged through, revealing a cellular phone. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. It was her phone and she hadn't seen it since she'd been kidnapped. She was shocked and outraged. She needed to get that phone back from him and warn Zayn and her parents.

Her fingers twitched with need.

Cristiano hadn't yet straightened. So when his head snapped up, his eyes bored right into her. A small smirk graced his beautiful lips as if he read what she wanted from her eyes. Jasmine clasped her hands together and stood there mutely, waiting for him to say something while she tried to formulate a plan to get her phone back.

"I've been texting your parents on your behalf since you've been here. But they are growing suspicious as to why you are not calling." He says, watching her carefully, but her eyes stayed glued to the phone in his hands. It was the only way to veil her surprise. "You will be making a phone call to reassure them and act as if all is well. I will warn you, you are not to say anything out of the ordinary and make the call quickly."

An angry flush coated her cheeks. He'd done nothing but order her around since he brought her to his home. She could feel the blood rushing in her ears. Jasmine despised it as much as she despised him. He was twisting her arm. Forcing her to do things against her will.

"Because if you do not, your friend Samuel will pay. I been gracious so far, but my mercy has its limits. I will make him wish for a speedy death." He threatens.

Cristiano started towards her, each heavy footstep vibrating through the marble floor and up her body. It was more dangerous for her to be alone with him than his meager threats. She was unmoved by his words. He wouldn't harm a hair on Sammy's head. In all honesty, she didn't know him but she knew enough that he wouldn't hurt Sammy. He was the type of man who extracted his revenge on those that did him harm and Sammy had done nothing except be in his way. If he wanted to hurt Sammy, he would have done so already.

"Look at me." He ordered.

Her eyes snapped back to Cristiano, her heart hammering. She was so focused on his body she realized she wasn't looking at him.

He pinned her by his glittering, ferocious hot gaze.

"Did you hear me, Tesoro?"

It wasn't a question. It was another order. Every single command he made was loaded with weight and power because of who he was. Her life was being controlled by a man. Jasmine internally scoffed. She always said she was never going to be the kind of woman that was under the thumb of a man.

My, how the mighty have fallen.

"If you warn them, it will cost you. Do I make myself clear?" He warned, cocking his head to one side, studying her reaction.

Of course she understood the consequences. If she did shout out a warning, she was sure to lure her parents into a trap he would be ready for. She couldn't risk their lives or their safety. And so she could only nod letting him believe he had the upper hand. She'd show him. One way or the other, she was going to get out of there.

Alive or dead.

"My informants have told me they are in Africa and will be there for sometime." He declares her as he hands her the phone.

Before she could form a response or the shock of his knowledge sinking in, their fingers touch.

Jasmine sucked in a breath when a shock of electricity charged between them that ran through her fingers and up her arm. She snatched her hand away and frowned unable to look at him. His eyes were locked on her. She could feel his hot heavy gaze tracing over her covered breasts, and further down feeling the reaction between her thighs.