Paige
Dallas and I leave the yacht and set foot in Sweden. I’ve never been here before.
The streets are filled with people and a lot of new sights. A few men smile or wink at me as they walk past us, but Dallas just clasps my delicate hand in his, drawing it to his lips and placing a sweet kiss on the back to show them I’m his. It’s sexy seeing him get territorial, and I can’t help but blush.
He leads us through the Old Town—the buildings are so tall and beautiful, looking like something out of a fairytale book. We pass quaint little shops selling handmade goods from around the world. I stop to admire a dainty little wooden jewelry box made in Sweden, but Dallas simply smiles and tugs me away.
I pout. “Hey, I was looking at that!”
“You don’t really need it, do you?”
“What do you mean
