THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE (8 page)

Why, why do you plague me? Why do you have such power over me?

Her knees were hurting, and she shuffled, attempting to find a more comfortable position, but the sound of his returning footfalls broke into her distressing thoughts, and caused her to settle.

“Brittany, do you have anything to say?” he asked, touching her shoulder.

She gasped, not from surprise, she had heard his approach, but from the shard of sexual energy that danced from his fingertips.

“Yes, Sir, I have many things to say,” she said softly, “and something to ask.”

“What’s your question?”

“How much longer do I have to stay here?”

Once again, Brittany Carter had succeeded in shocking him.

Good heavens, even after all this you still question me? Your fortitude and determined mind are extraordinary.

Leaning forward he placed his lips at her ear.

“After everything you’ve just endured, surely you know the answer to that, and what do you think it is?”

“Uh, sorry, Sir, as long as you think necessary,” she sighed.

“Yes, as long as I think necessary, and how do you think I feel about that question?”

“Inappropriate, Sir,” she sighed again.

“Inappropriate and impertinent,” he said firmly. “You’re just learning, so I will give you some latitude, but not much, because while you are foolish, Brittany, you’re not stupid, and that was a stupid question. Would you agree?”

“Yes, Sir, thinking about it…yes, I see it was.”

“As I said, I do allow some latitude in the early stages of training, so I will not make you kneel any further as punishment, but there must be some consequence. That consequence will come at dinner, assuming you wish to continue with me.”

“I do, Sir,” she nodded fervently,
though I really am wondering why I want to so badly. My ass is stinging like mad and my knees feel like they’re going to give way any minute, and yet I want-

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

The instruction took her by surprise, and sliding them slowly apart, not wanting to suffer carpet burns on top of everything else, she held her breath.

Oh, touch me, please, please touch me.

“I know what you want. I know you are praying that I will slide my fingers between your legs and tickle your wetness. All I am doing at this moment is putting you in touch with that need,” he said softly.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, “you’re right, I am aching for you to do that, I am aching for you…positively aching…”

“You will have to wait. You are to return to your cabin where you will immediately strip, then sit on your sore bottom and write me a letter,” he instructed. “In it you will tell me all the thoughts that went through your head while I was spanking you, and again while you’ve been kneeling. I’m not concerned about spelling or grammar, I am only concerned with raw honesty. Don’t leave anything out, not anything. I’ll know if you do.”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, “I won’t, I’ll write everything down, everything that I thought and felt.”

“When you’re finished you’ll bring the paper back here and slip it under my door, then return to your bedroom to nap, but you are not to touch yourself. I will expect your arrival back here at precisely 7 p.m., dressed appropriately and ready to dine. Now you may stand up.”

Sighing heavily, Brittany was grateful that his hand held her elbow as she struggled to her feet, and to her joyful relief he engulfed her in his arms.

“Poor Brittany, you have such a sore seat now,” he purred, slipping the blindfold off her head. “Don’t you worry, it will all be worth it in the end. You’ve needed strict discipline for a long time, and now you’ve met someone who will give it to you.”

A wave of emotion swept over her, and swallowing hard she fought back an unexpected urge to cry.

“You’re very emotional right now,” he crooned, as if reading her mind, “and if you feel tears you must allow them to flow, it’s important. Go ahead, I won’t let you go until you’re all done.”

His tender tone and words of understanding opened the floodgates, and sobbing heavily she buried her head into the crook of his shoulder. He stroked her head as she cried, rubbed her back and offered soothing words of comfort. When the tears finally dried up he shifted her body slightly back from his, and lifting her chin with his finger, he dropped his lips against hers.

The potent kiss demanded a mutual surrender, and as her body gave way, sinking into his strong hold, and their mouths moved in unison, Duncan began to feel a stirring in his soul, a stirring he’d not experienced in many years, a stirring that told him Brittany would haunt him long after they left the ship to go their separate ways.

As they broke apart and her arms clung to him, he knew she was feeling it too; that indefinable something; it was one of the most powerful forces on earth.

What the hell am I going to do about this? I suppose I’ll have to answer that question in a few days. At least I have some time to learn more about you Brittany Carter, but if I’m being totally honest, what I’m feeling is everything I need to know.

S
itting gingerly on her roasted behind, it took Brittany over thirty minutes to write down everything that had crossed her mind, including the details about the ongoing battle with her naughty inner imp. When she’d finished a wave of fatigue unlike anything she’d ever experienced sent her to bed, but she had the presence of mind to set her alarm for 6 p.m.

The moment her head hit the pillow she was asleep; it was dreamless and deep, and when she awoke she felt better than she had in years. Her bottom was tender, but her spirit was light, and stepping into the bathroom, she stripped, then stood with her back the mirror and stared over her shoulder at her blotchy red cheeks.

Wow, you really walloped me, Duncan Rhys-Davies. I wonder what it’s like to be spanked the way you described. What did you call it? A pleasant, smart spanking? This sure as hell wasn’t a pleasant, smart spanking. You were right, it was punishment, sorry, discipline.

Wanting to spare herself any more stinging pain she made sure the shower was warm, not hot, and stepping into the stall she soaped herself with the pomegranate bath gel supplied by the cruise line. She’d fallen in love with the scented foam the first time she’d used it, and closing her eyes she sighed softly as the citrus fragrance floated around her.

I hope you’ll like what I’ve written, Duncan. I haven’t left anything out, and I’ve put things in there I’ve never told anyone. Maybe sneaking into your cabin was a good thing after all. Maybe it made our relationship move faster. What am I saying? We don’t have a relationship. This will all be over in a few days. Oh, man, leaving him behind is going to be really difficult.

If Brittany had been a fly on the wall in Duncan’s cabin, she would have felt some sense of reassurance, and she would also have been very surprised.

Duncan had a nanny cam. The small camera had been traveling with him since he’d been the victim of theft on a previous cruise. He zipped through the footage late every night, checking on the staff, making sure they weren’t opening drawers they had no business opening, and he had been replaying the footage of her sneaking into his cabin.

Watching her lurking in his cabin was making him chuckle, especially when she discovered she couldn’t fit behind the armoire. Clearly her break-in had been completely spontaneous, giving credence to her explanation of why she’d done it.

As he watched her duck out on to the patio he shook his head; it was almost endearing. The footage ended when he walked in and turned it off, and deciding to save it for posterity and share it with her at some point in the future, he downloaded it to his computer before deleting it from the camera.

Turning his attention to the evening ahead, he moved across to the dining table. He’d ordered white roses for the centerpiece, and two white tapered candles. Dom Perignon champagne was chilling in an ice bucket, two, cut glass crystal goblets were waiting to be filled, and a bouquet of one dozen white and yellow roses in an art glass vase was out of sight in his bedroom,

As a barrister Duncan enjoyed a reputation of sparing no expense, nor leaving any stone unturned when it came to defending a client, or litigating a case. His fees were high, but those who could afford him received the best representation money could buy.

So it was in his personal life. He did not hold back, he did not play cat and mouse games; he made his feelings known, but staring at his impulsive purchases he felt a slight reticence.

What am I doing? It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this…thing…for a woman. Do I want to immediately shower her with all this? Should I? Am I being too impetuous? Yes, it’s the right thing. Soon we’ll be apart, I must seize the moment.

He had no doubt Brittany would be thrilled, but would probably ask him some surprising questions. Brittany was full of surprises; it was one of the qualities he found so captivating.

At 7 p.m. her gentle knock announced her arrival, and after quickly lighting the candles he opened his door. Dressed in a shimmering emerald green, low cut, knee length, silk cocktail dress, and white and green glossy high heels, he thought she looked stunning. A string of pearls graced her neck, and she’d parted her hair on the side, causing it to fall coquettishly across one eye.

“You are exquisite,” he smiled, taking her hand and kissing it softly.

“Thank you,” she smiled, the shadow of a blush crossing her face, “and you look so handsome,”
amazing in fact,
just like James Bond.

Duncan had opted for dark suit, a sharp white shirt, and a bow tie with a barely discernible streak of purple; it was an outfit he would have chosen to wear to an elegant dinner party in London.

“I have champagne chilling, and not the sparkling wine we shared this morning. Dom Perignon, and a very good year I might add.”

He ushered her forward, but when Brittany saw the beautifully set table she stopped, delightfully surprised by the elegant setting he’d arranged.

“Duncan, this is gorgeous,” she exclaimed, “no-one has ever gone to so much trouble for me.”

“More’s the pity,” he announced. “I want you to feel appreciated, and I want you to know how special I think you are.”

“But, I’m not special,” she frowned. “I’m just a southern girl from a nothing town with dreams I’m too afraid to-”

“Do I need to fetch my slipper already?” he lightly scolded, interrupting her. “You are special, and the sooner you come to realize that, the less power that doubting imp will have over you.”

Reminded that he’d read her soliloquy she felt a warm blush, but she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment that he knew her secrets, or pleasure that he’d not just read her story but had understood what she’d been trying to convey.

“I’ll do my best,” she murmured.

“Good girl,” he smiled, taking her hand as he kissed her lightly on the lips. “I have something for you. Please sit down, gently of course,” he added, “and close your eyes.”

“Duncan, you’re spoiling me,” she sighed.

“Do as I say,” he declared firmly. “and don’t worry, you know very well that if you start to act spoiled there’s an easy fix.”

His words sent her butterflies to life, and moving to the table she settled into her chair, immediately feeling the reminder of her spanking. Closing her eyes she waited patiently, and though she didn’t hear him walk way, she did hear him return just a minute later.

“You may look,” he said, stepping back.

Blinking her eyes open she saw the stunning flowers in the art glass vase.

“What is all this?” she breathed.

“It’s not so much, not really,” he reassured her, “and it was something that gave me pleasure. The white and yellow roses represent purity and friendship,” he replied. “What you experienced today was pure. You submitted to my discipline, you surrendered to me, and that is a truly precious thing, Brittany, truly precious. We are now bound in that, and in the friendship that has, rather, that is, blossoming between us.”

“I’m just…so…honestly, I don’t know what to say,” she breathed, feeling a large, hot lump in the back of her throat. “We just met, I mean, I know we went through a lot today, or at least it was a lot for me, but this is so much,” she exclaimed. “I don’t mean to, uh…sorry. It’s just…I can’t help thinking that this will all be over in just a few days.”

He stared down at her and smiled.

Wary, concerned, excellent.

“You are absolutely correct,” he agreed, taking his seat across from her. “I have the same troubling concern. If it’s too overwhelming for you…if you think you want to stop things now, and-”

“No,” she interrupted, “I don’t, not for a minute.”

“Then let’s enjoy tonight and the few days we have. I’ll call for our meal to be served. I’ve ordered Cajun Chicken and Pepper Salmon, both spicy dishes, but I can have them made mild if you wish. Which would you prefer?”

“The salmon, thank you, and I love spicy food,” she grinned.

As he stood up and expertly popped the cork on the champagne, Brittany felt her safe life in her small home town was a million miles away, and that the young woman she’d been when she’d boarded the ship was changing.

One dose of discipline can do that? Or is it all him? Mr. British Debonaire Duncan. I don’t know and I don’t care, I just never want this to end.

He poured the sparkling wine into their glasses, then sitting back down handed her the flute.

“What’s our toast?” she asked, as they clinked.

“To living in the moment, with an eye on tomorrow,” he replied.

T
he dinner had been everything she could have dreamed of. Duncan was charming and romantic, funny, then serious, and engaged her in a way that made her believe that he truly cared about her opinion, and more importantly, about her feelings.

He’d put on CD that was a collection of sentimental songs, and taking her hand he’d pulled her into his arms and began to glide her across the floor.

As they danced to the lilting melody and haunting voice of Michael Buble singing,
The Way You Look Tonight,
he slowly slid down the zipper at the back of her dress. The air was filled with romance, and the soothing music underscored the sensuous flow of their bodies. The champagne had lulled her fears, but surrendering to his artful seduction had been a conscious decision, and while she had no intention of changing her mind, she couldn’t help but ponder the wisdom of it.