Free THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE by Maggie Carpenter

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.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    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,