His Yasmina [Completed]

Chapter 21-Naked

Two days later

As he predicted, he expected a phone call from Jasmine's phone from her brother any day now.  A devils smirk graced Cristiano's lips as he held the brand new cellular phone–with her original SIM card and let it ring until her voicemail picked up.  Zayn had tried again.  When Jasmine didn't answer, he knew it would make him wonder and resort to texting. 

Cristiano was ready. 

Zayn
Hey, I'm back. 
Why aren't you answering? 

Jasmine
Where are you?

Zayn
I just drove back from Scotland. 
Where are you?  I tried calling.
You aren't picking up.

Jasmine
I need to see you. 
Can you meet me at the penthouse?

Zayn
What's wrong? 

Jasmine
I can't explain over the phone. 
Come here as soon as possible. 

Zayn
Are you okay? 
You're worrying me.
It sounds urgent.

Jasmine
I'm fine.  In a meeting.
Just please come see me as soon as you can.

Zayn
I'm exhausted from the long drive. 
I'll stop by tomorrow. 

Jasmine
See you soon.

Fortunately, Zayn hadn't questioned his sister further.  He hadn't figured out it was Cristiano texting him back.  He'd read passed messages and made it sound like she was in fact texting him back.  His intent was to make the messages sound somewhat urgent and it appeared it worked.   

He learned one fine detail which was lost.  Zayn had traveled to Scotland, and his mode of transportation was by car, not plane.   It would explain why they couldn't locate his name amongst any travelers from the airport database. 

Zayn wasted no time, as he anticipated, and appeared the next day, at the hotel. His men have been spying the hotel for weeks from a safe and disclosed distance and waited.  Cristiano informed them to be on stand-by and expect him. 

They were instructed to deliver a personal, simply hand-written message.

I have your sister. Do as instructed or you will never see her again.

The car finally turned down the bumpy and long road to his castle. The trees parted and he saw his dark, looming castle overlooking the dark forest. The chauffeur drove the black Rolls-Royce to the front of the door and abruptly stopped. For a moment he held his breath and opened the door without waiting for his driver.

During his meeting with his private security detail, Cristiano was informed of what occurred.

Zayn stiffened, Cristiano was told, and demanded her whereabouts. If he was to contact anyone, his men also warned, she will die. It was all a lie of course, but one that would ensure his cooperation. They left Zayn with further instructions to be in touch before the exchange and escort him to the unspecified location themselves. 

The exchange was to happen soon. Zayn was to make his grand appearance by the end of the following week. So much for Yasmina's sacrifice. He should have been feeling triumphant, instead he was clawing his hair the entire ride back home from the meeting.

He couldn't stop thinking about her– the way her eyes lit up with when she was outdoors as the sun soaked the face of her skin.  The way her hair shone like honey.  The sure swing of her hips when she walked in her tight jeans. Often times he wondered how those long legs would feel wrapped around his waist, that ivory skin silky soft beneath his fingertips, that gold-streaked chestnut hair spread out upon his pillow, spilling through his fingers–