Airsick

She paced the vast living room, which had only a large brown love sofa and a 32 inches flat screen that was at the corner of the wall.

Glancing at where she was now, she noticed how frigid and void the room was. 

Without the dark painting, it still was cold.

Everything around him depicted his stiff personality. She reckoned that was how he always had been and would be. Even the night they had met, if she wasn't too drunk, she'd have noticed the type of man he was- a controlling, arrogant b*st*rd. And she'd have stopped herself from going in with him. At least, it would save her from what she was experiencing currently.

Getting married? She pondered as her mind drifted yet again to what he had said.

Her lips curled up in distaste.

She glared at him as he casually stepped into the room. “I'm not getting married to you because I'm carrying your child. That is the last thing I will ever do because it is the wrong purpose for marriage. And marriage should be for love!”

Jules stared at the woman in front of him. She was a spitfire, and one of those women he usually avoided. 

The first time he had seen her in the bar, he was aware she was one of the woman who dwelled on love before marriage.

Yet, she had attracted him despite all the red flags he had seen radiating off of her.

Perhaps it was the lust that had blinded him and made him not discard her.

Whatever it was, he believed he should have stayed far away. Right now, there was nothing he could do, as he had a child on the way. Or did he? He mused as he thought of the possibility of the child not being his.

“Will you quit doing that?” He groaned, kneading his temple.

“Quit doing what?” Janice's brow lifted as she ceased pacing.

“Walking around the house. It's quite distracting and frustrating because I'm trying to think.”

Janice sighed, then settled down heavily onto the sofa. “I'm fine with being a single mother.” She began.

Jules interrupted her as she opened her mouth to say something. “We have birthed no bastards before in my lineage. Maybe there are, but not that I know of. Moreover, I won't want a child of mine to be among the bastards, and you'd do as I say.”

“He or she will not be a bastard, since you acknowledged you are the father already.”

Jules' phone rang as he was about to answer her, and she watched him walk to the far end of the room, to a glass door that led to the balcony.

Janice grimaced as she heard him barking into his phone. She strained her ears, but she could make out only a little of what he was saying.

He had mentioned the word wedding preparation severally, and she realized there was no escape for her. More so, even if she had attempted to, he would surely find her.

But then, there was no way she would give in easily. He believed because he was a prince, he could do whatever he wanted. Though he could, she still had some powers over what decision to make, or so she thought.

************************************

Janice scowled as she tightened her grip on the seat.

The food she ate earlier regurgitated in her belly, and the powerful urge to throw up surged into her.

Her eyes darted around frantically as she searched for a vomit bag to release the nausea she was trying to keep at bay. She wasn't sure if she would make it to the bathroom in time if it surfaced.

Although sweat was gliding down her forehead, Janice shivered. She wrapped her hands around her body.

“Are you alright?” Jules frowned, staring at her pale face. “Are you cold?”

Earlier, she had refused to go into his private jet because she had a height phobia. But he had convinced her of how skilled his pilots were.

Now, he wondered if that was why sweat was gliding down her face or the reason she looked queasy.

“Do I look as if I am not alright?!” she retorted.

“You should have worn something better than that,” Jules said as he glared at the sleeveless chiffon blouse she donned.

“You didn't give me much choice.” Janice snorted.

She thought back to how he had hauled her out of her house.

At first, she thought he had agreed to let her have a change of clothing, but he startled her when he told her to pick up what she deemed necessary in her luggage.

She had refused, and Jules had ordered one of his watchdogs to do the packing for her.

Also, he had carried her to the car on his shoulder when she had tried to lock him out of his house. Even as she cussed, he didn't let go.

A blush stained his cheeks, and he rolled his eyes. Jules was getting used to her rudeness, even though he barely knew her.

Still, he knew all the words that had ever come out of her mouth since he went to claim his child, were aimed at him. Possibly to annoy him.

He should be furious, but he wasn't.

His mother had once told him how pregnant women's emotions got to them easily.

He assumed it was what was happening to her.

Janice gripped the white piece of cloth Jules extended towards her. She dabbed her forehead before extending it back to him.

Even after dabbing her sweaty face, it didn't stop the queasiness she was having. Rather, it became worse.

“You look sick. Do you need an airsick bag?”

She nodded, and promptly one appeared at her front. She managed to open it in time before the puke streamed out of her mouth.

Janice winced, rubbing her stomach.

Jules stroked her back as she continued retching. 

“Easy,” he rasped.

“Did you take the pills the doctor gave you to stop nausea?” He questioned, whilst handing the ruined bag to one of his bodyguards.

“I threw them away,” Janice muttered.

“Why?”

“Because they tasted like crap.” She pointed out.

“It doesn't matter if it tasted like crap or not.” Jules added, “It was to make you less uncomfortable.”

Janice shrugged. “I don't care.”

He sighed as he gazed at her. He knew she was defiant, but not to the extent of tossing out the pills that would relieve her.

“Janice…”

She opened her eyes at the mention of her name. It was the first time he would call her by her real name because he had often referred to her as Madame or woman.

She liked how sexy, and foreign, he made it sound.

“What?”

“I don't know what to do with you. But, please, can you not endanger yourself or the baby?” He pleaded.

“As if you care.” She rolled her eyes.

“I care about the baby.” Jules asserted.

It had always been about the baby, Janice mulled. 

She understood it was impossible for him to care about her since they hardly knew each other. Yet the revelation stung.

“Don't just do anything that would harm you.” He muttered, then added. “Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“If you do, I'm just a few centimetres away from you.” Jules pointed to a seat that was adjacent to hers.

Janice nodded before shutting her eyes. She was alone again, with her thoughts, and that was the only thing she needed at the moment.