Her Swedish Billionaire's Baby(16)

 

“Ah, there you are,” a deep voice drawled in her ear and she turned to look into Bjorn’s violet eyes. They really were…hypnotizing. “It's good to see that you made it.”

 

He was talking to her, she could see that. Her mind was just unable to process.

 

“Uh…” she said.

 

Bjorn smiled showing all forty of his white perfect teeth.

 

“Have you had a bite to eat yet?” he asked guiding her gently to a table and sitting her down. He signaled to someone she couldn’t see and then sat down next to her in the booth, legs crossed in his white suited perfection and arm slung casually along the back of the booth, only slightly touching her bare shoulder. Samara felt like her mind had shut down. Bjorn didn’t seem fazed by her inarticulateness which was a relief for her because she couldn’t seem to snap out of it.

 

“So…your research project; it is on Nordstorm?” Bjorn asked once a waiter had come and placed several platters of food on the table. There were various types of proteins from chicken to beef to pork as well as corn on the cob, baked potatoes, various sauces, bread buns and salads. Samara didn’t know if she could keep any of it down but she picked at some pieces of pork with her fork and put them on her plate just to be polite. Bjorn didn’t comment, just waited for her to answer his question.

 

“I’m doing a piece on your father actually; that was my focus. My condolences by the way.”

 

“Thank you,” Bjorn said with a small smile. “He had asthma. It was well managed. But then…” Bjorn’s violet eyes seemed to turn inward. “Such a stupid thing; he went skiing. It was really cold and he had a fall. It happened so fast…”

 

Samara was watching him with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

 

Bjorn shrugged, “That’s life, no?”

 

“I guess,” Samara said her fingers inching over to cover his hand on the table. He glanced down at their hands but didn’t move his away. They stayed in silence for a while.

 

“Would you…umm, how about we take this talk somewhere quieter?” he asked.

 

“Okay,” Samara replied and stood with him as he took her arm and led her down into the bowels of the boat. He led her to a room which was obviously a sleeping quarters. Only, she’d never seen such a luxurious version on a moving vehicle. The room was bathed in soft blue light and the bed was bunker-like in so much as it obviously was attached to the wall. It was a double bed, done up in a beautiful blue and gold duvet that reflected the light. There was a table shaped in the form of an old fashioned trunk, two chairs and a shelf stocked well with alcohol. Bjorn indicated she should sit as he went to the bar.

 

He placed a golden drink in front of her, glass clinking with ice as he sat down beside her with his own drink.

 

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking a sip. She shuddered with reaction as the alcohol went down, feeling a little dizzy with just being here, with Bjorn. As they drank, he told her a bit about his family life growing up in Stockholm. His life was surprisingly devoid of glamour; sounded like for the rich and famous, they’d lived quite normal lives. Going to public schools, doing chores, getting after school jobs to earn pocket money. It was almost surreal how ‘normal’ his life had been.

 

“My life was the complete opposite of normal,” she found herself confiding. It seemed that the alcohol had loosened her tongue. “I like…just moved around a lot; with my dad and my sister.”

 

“Oh?” he encouraged sounding like he was even interested.

 

“Yeah. We didn’t really have a home. We were just…all over the place.”

 

“Sounds…hard,” Bjorn said.

 

Samara squinted at him; he quite possibly was doubling in front of her. “You’re so sexy,” she said; the words just leaving her mouth without her permission. Bjorn laughed.

 

“Really?” he said.

 

“Really. I just want to…eat you alive,” she said. Bjorn laughed harder.

 

“Sounds like fun,” Bjorn said moving closer to her. Samara watched him come.

 

 

 

"Samara, please, baby," Bjorn moaned.

 

From where she was on her knees in front of Bjorn, Samara looked up at Bjorn through her long lashes, her bangs falling into her eyes. She continued to take her time and traced Bjorn's navel with her tongue, kept teasing Bjorn with the promise of what was to come.

 

Samara smirked at Bjorn when he let out yet another muffled curse. "Samara..." he whined.