Free Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass by Kathryn Le Veque Page A

would have to start now.
    “I have said nothing untrue,” he
growled. “But I can guarantee you that if you ever again so much as entertain
the thought of physically assaulting me, my retribution shall be swift.”
    The sea-colored eyes were stormy.
“You’ll not threaten me.”
    “Be assured, it is not a threat.”
    He knew she was going to test
him. He could tell by the expression on her face. She was angry enough to spit
nails. Grasping a pewter candlestick on the carved stone mantle, she hurled it
at him. Kenneth reached out, grabbed it before it could hit him, and set it
carefully on the table near him.  With a heavy sigh, he moved towards her.
    “You will regret your actions.”
    Aubrielle was so furious that she
was barely rational. She was so used to having her way that to run into an
obstacle only inflamed her. She was, however, aware that Kenneth was coming
towards her. It was a temptation to run, but she refused. It was a mistake. 
Kenneth grasped her gently but firmly by the arm, took the chair she had been
sitting in, and promptly threw her across his lap.
    Aubrielle gasped with shock as
his open palm came down on her bottom. Though padded from the blow by her heavy
skirts, it was nonetheless a sting. With the second strike, she shrieked like a
banshee.
    “St. Héver!” she hollered. “Let
me up!”
    He didn’t react other than to
spank her again. Two more blows followed as Aubrielle twisted and yelped.  When
he was finished, he pulled her up the arms and planted her feet on the floor. Aubrielle
was so overwhelmed by the entire experience that she was, for the moment,
speechless.  She rubbed her bum, casting Kenneth the most hateful expression he
had ever seen.
    “Do we understand one another?”
he asked in a low voice.
    Her reply was to take a swing at
him. He dodged the flying fist, tossed her over his lap again, and proceeded to
spank her four more times as she writhed and growled.  When he was finished, he
pulled her up the arms again to stand. Aubrielle’s face was positively red with
shame and anger.
    “I can do this all day if it
pleases you, my lady,” he said calmly. “The sooner you learn to control
yourself, the sooner we can move forward with plans for Glastonbury.”
    She backed away from him, rubbing
her backside. “You are a contemptible brute, St. Héver,” she muttered. “God
help me forever thinking to marry you.”
    She was closed to tears; he could
see it. He was coming to think that perhaps he had spanked her too hard and it
was a struggle not to regret his actions. He’d only meant to teach her a
lesson, to prove that he would not fall victim to her tantrums.  In a
completely uncharacteristic turn, he felt himself folding like an idiot.
    “Come here,” he said to her
softly.
    She eyed him as if he was the
Devil. “No.”
    Kenneth patiently held up a hand
to her, motioning with his fingers. “Please. I promise I have no ill
intentions.”
    Aubrielle continued to stand
there, studying him. She didn’t know what to think. She was angry, true, but
she was also hurt.  Not only had he seemingly forgotten their bargain, but he
had chided her for neglecting the earl’s funeral. Perhaps just the smallest
part of her knew that he was right, and it was difficult to maintain her anger.
    It seemed like an eternity before
she took a step towards him. It was very slowly, so he would know that she
wasn’t easily ordered about. But when she came within range, he gently grasped
her wrist and pulled her to him.  He seated her upon his lap and his thick arms
wrapped around her waist. For a moment, they simply sat and stared at each
other. Kenneth was becoming so swept up with her splendor that he almost forgot
what he had intended to say.
    “I am sorry if I hurt you,” he
said quietly. “But if you are to behave like a child, then I will treat you
like one.”
    Her anger abated, leaving ripples
of sorrow in its wake.  She gazed into his ice blue eyes, thinking somewhere