His laughter was intolerable, and she spluttered at him.
Being hauled up the slope to the horses then dried with a blanket that smelled of horse, being made to kneel on the picnic rug that remained where they’d eaten—it all went by quickly, and he was matter-of-fact about what he did. It almost made her forget she was naked.
Almost, at least, until he squatted in front of her with her fresh clothes before him.
“Well, mermaid.” John tapped the bundle of clothes. “Girl who has barely escaped being spanked.” He frowned and rubbed his chin, as if unsure of what he’d uttered.
“Spanked! Do not dare to touch me! Not all nobles are noble? You, sir, are a disgrace to your lineage, your parents—”
“Shut up.” He removed his spectacles, letting her see the flames. “Was that a mistake? Not spanking you?”
Her throat dried up. “No,” she choked out.
“I disagree. Never insult me and my parents in one sentence, again.”
Had she done that? She wasn’t sure.
Nervously, she watched as he rose and walked to a small shrub, began to pluck a few longer thinner branches. He stripped them of their leaves by running his hand down the stem. Leaves fluttered free, and some whirled away on the wind to be blown into the chasm.
He returned to her straight-mouthed, eyes burning, the branches trailing in his hand. What did he intend with those?
“You have a choice. Apologize to me and you get one strike on your bare ass, or don’t and you get ten.”
“But I didn’t insult you and…” She ran down in the face of his anger and her helplessness. Po inhaled, glared. “Very well. I apologize to your parents, and I suppose to you for whatever you thought you heard.”
John chuckled. “Damn. Next time I word that better.”
“Next time?”
“Oh, it will happen.”
The gleam in his eyes was unexpected, and she felt that now familiar closing in of her throat that only he had managed to accomplish.
“Let’s see.” He drew her to her feet by a hand under her arm and headed for a small boulder where he sat and then pulled her over his lap. He held her in place. Po struggled to rise, mortified because she knew what he intended.
“Sit still. No one will aid you. Take this or I will do worse.”
Worse… She stilled, sighing as he took hold of her bound hands and pushed them higher up her back.
“Good.” Then he struck her, hard, but only once.
The sting made her flinch, but she’d pinched her mouth shut and made no sound. She inhaled through that minor pain. It was a mild sensation on her rear, not as painful as the scratches on her finger from the rock climb. It was already dying away, except that now he laid his palm on her there, and he stayed like that, quiet, with that hand doing small movements, pressing down, pressing her onto him.
She was sure he had an erection. Not being an expert, she had to file it under maybe.
After another minute or so, while neither of them spoke, and she felt herself respond to this unasked-for male attention by growing terribly, embarrassingly wet where the split of her sex existed… after that time, he sighed.
“You are going to get dressed after I untie you, Princess. You are not going to misbehave.”
How dare he utter that word misbehave. As if she were some student of his.
Now was not the best moment to protest. Not when the sticks he’d birched her with lay on the ground before her eyes.
“Say yes.”
“Or?”
“Or I will do worse.”
She toed the ground, thinking. “Okay. Yes.”
“Good, my princess. Very good.”
He liked that worse word far too much.
Once allowed up, she stood and only glared, briefly. Slapping him could wait. Besides, her hands were tied. So far, he’d earned a hanging and a garroting, if this were brought up in court.
At least his spectacles were in place. The two black discs seemed impartial and magisterial. Without them, the fire in his eyes swept her into an acute moment of awe, colored by a wash of fear and lust. None of which made sense.
“Get dressed then we ride. Be thankful I’m not tying you to the saddle, naked.”
He released her from the rope.
While she was dressing, she dared to rebut his threat. “That would have you arrested for indecency.”
“What would?” He’d thrown the saddle back on the stallion and was cinching it.
“A woman, naked, on a horse.” Saying that made her feel perverted.
“Wrong. Not in Kostan.”
It wasn’t?
He ambled to her, watching as she did up the buttons on her shirt, concealing her cleavage.
She blushed. This was about blush number seven of all the major blushes of her entire life, and most of them had been due to John.
Then he reached and brushed aside her fingers to do up the last button himself, with both hands there, beneath her chin. She wasn’t sure why she let him do that, but… since she was entranced by the smile he was wearing, just for her, she didn’t particularly care to figure out why. Not yet.
He leaned in, cupped the back of her head, and delivered another of his soft, teasing kisses. “Besides, I guarantee you’d have liked it.”
This, she thought, her mouth still open as he turned away, was getting far too complicated. He beckoned her to the horse.
Po steadied herself then followed him, no longer sure what she was doing, though she knew what she was not doing: being a sensible and morally upstanding princess.
CHAPTER FIVE
the guarded border checkpoint between Bitzocoin and Kostan hove into view,
