Free THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE by Maggie Carpenter Page B

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.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    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.
    “Am I crazy?” she whispered, as the dress fell off and puddled around her feet.
    “Crazy like me,” he breathed, his lips at her ear.
    “You’re going to break my heart,” she mumbled, “and yet, right now I don’t care.”
    “Perhaps it will be you who does the heartbreaking,” he murmured. “There are two in this dance.”
    Bending down he lifted her up, and