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“Leave it,” he said, urging me to my feet. He steered me toward my chair, the one that faced his on the other side of the hearth, and crouched in front of me, one hand on my knee, the other touching my face. He stared at me so intently, it was like he was trying to probe my mind.
When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “Do you believe I love you?”
“I do.”
“And you love me?” His hand fell from my face, and he stroked my thigh.
“You know I do.”
“Will you always love me?”
“I will.” That was the truth and it felt good to admit it. The boulder in my throat melted. I was trying to stop the marriage for his sake, not mine. I hoped he understood that.
“Do you think I will always love you?”
“Maybe. Who knows?”
He stopped stroking me. “Do you see the inequity here? I’m supposed to believe your declaration of love, but you don’t have to believe mine. How do you think that makes me feel?”
I grinned to break the tension. “Untrustworthy?”
He straightened, took a step back, and sat on his chair again. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes not leaving my face. I wondered if he would take the bait, if he’d spank me for that deliberately provocative comment.
He pushed himself back in his chair. “I said we’d discuss this with you over my knee. It’s obviously time to enter that phase of the conversation. Assume the position.”
He picked up the hairbrush and motioned to the hem of my skirt. I didn’t move. If I submitted to him now, I would undo the declaration of misgivings it had taken every ounce of courage I could muster to air. I’d be stepping right back into his world, his command, and leaving mine behind.
On the other hand, if I didn’t submit to him now, he could be both proud and stubborn enough to hold me to my word. He might cancel our engagement, pay out my contract with his company, Fenshaw Investments, and I’d never see him again.
Was I prepared to lose him?
No.
So, I did what I’d done since our first time together. I stood, heart pounding, and raised my skirt to my waist. While Simon watched, I slid my panties down to my knees. Having that one strip of my body naked sent waves of heat through me. I flushed with embarrassment, dread, and a sudden but genuine sense of contrition. I shouldn’t have ruined this perfect day with my doubts. Simon had been so happy right until I opened my mouth. I should have chosen another moment and not tarnished the glow of his well-being.
He pushed the stool out of the way and helped me ease myself over his knees. When I failed to lean far enough forward, he grasped my hips and lifted my ass higher, pulling my feet off the ground. My dress spilled forward like a silk tent. I knew all he could see of me now was ass and legs. Pinning my wrists to the middle of my back with his left hand and rubbing my upturned buttocks, he said, “Why do you think you’re here?”
“Because I have a gorgeous ass and you want to admire it?”
Thinking was impossible in that position so I might as well demonstrate my talent for sass. Plus, my feeble attempt at humor masked my emotional confusion.Just do it, I thought.
Simon acted on my unspoken communication.
Whack.
It was only his hand, but he delivered the blow full strength. The impact almost bounced me off his lap with shock.
I gasped.
“What should my fiancée do when she has doubts about our relationship?” He was calm and polite, as always. He rarely raised his voice, but it always carried a tone of authority that made people listen to him.
I tried to put a positive spin on my lack of faith. “Try not to bother you with them until she’s made a decision of her own?”
“Wrong answer,” he said. Without warning the hairbrush landed, sharp and painful. Only two swats, but enough to make me pant with surprise and shock.
“Now are you willing to talk sensibly?”
“Sure, just let me stand, pull up my panties, and I’ll be able to think far more logically.”
