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“I think I am not possessed of the same, er, passions as you,” she answered, taking a step back.
“Indeed? How sad. Perhaps that can be changed.”
“I have no wish to change.”
“You may feel differently in three days time.”
Three days time? What did he mean by that? Instinctively, she glanced toward the door, her escape, but it was too far. And he stood in her path.
“I have no plans to keep my own company for the next three days,” he elaborated. “And as you have deprived me of Miss Josephine, you will have to take her place.”
“I have no intention of staying,” she protested, trying to stave off the panic that gripped her heart. But it was not the fear of immediate harm that alarmed her. It was…the flush of excitement coursing in her body, a sensation reminiscent of a time long ago when she did not ignore her curiosity or the urges of the flesh.
“Your intentions matter not. My coach will return you home only on my command.”
“You mean to keep me here? Against my will?” she cried.
“You came of your own free will, Miss Merrill. I would have advised against it.”
“I am to be your prisoner?” She attempted with what little indignation she could muster to mask her agitation.
He advanced toward her, but she stepped back until the back of her knees struck the bed. The nearness of his body took the air from her. The flush in her body grew.
“Do you know what I do with meddlers?” he asked.
Trapped between him and the bed behind her, all she could do was hold his gaze. Her mind grasped for a rejoinder but came up empty.
“I punish them, Miss Merrill.”
Chapter Two
He saw fear in those bright almond-shaped eyes of hers.
Good, Sebastian thought. The little meddler needed a lesson.
Blocked from escape, she reminded him of a mouse trapped in a corner. He advanced a final step toward her, taking away the last shred of space between them, daring her to speak. Her silence gratified him. He waited to see if she would push him away or slap him in the face—he had received his fair share of those from women desperate to hold on to a semblance of propriety when inwardly they yearned to be seduced—but such an action would require her to touch him, and Miss Merrill leaned away from him so that her bosom would not graze his chest.
“You…” She falter
ed.
With one motion, he grasped her by the wrist, brought her arm behind her, and pushed her over his knees as he sat upon the bed.
Miss Merrill inhaled sharply but did not struggle. She lay still on top of him.
Sebastian observed the curve of her rump through her muslin and felt a sudden tug at his crotch. His hand itched to palm her arse, but he had meant only to scare her, not punish her.
“We could start with a good spanking,” he said.
Was that a whimper he heard? As she was lying facedown, he could not see her expression. She made no movement. Curious, he placed his hand on the arch of one buttock. This time she flinched but remained where she was, even though he had loosened his hold on her wrist enough that she could have wrested herself away from him.
She wants to be spanked, he realized. A low, burning desire pulsed in his cock. Despite his earlier suggestion that she take the place of her cousin, he was all too cognizant that Miss Heloise Merrill was not Miss Josephine. Nonetheless, he was not a man to deprive a woman.
Raising his hand above her, he brought it down on the buttock he had caressed seconds before—sharp enough to command attention but tame compared to what he was accustomed to delivering. Again she flinched but said nothing. There was more to this Miss Merrill than he had first perceived. To his further surprise, he felt a maddening rush of desire crashing into him. Desire he had lacked earlier. He suddenly wanted to show Miss Merrill all the joys of Château Follet. Wanted to take her senses to a realm she had never known before.
He tempered his desire. This was Heloise Merrill. Not some bit of muslin. He slapped her other cheek through her gown. Her arse had such a lovely, substantive curve to it. Some women appeared to have no arse at all. He wanted to see Miss Merrill bare. Wanted to feel her plumpness. He decided he would and massaged one buttock. Superb. He would enjoy giving her a sound spanking.
No. He intended to give her a set-down—not to engage in anything more.
