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  "The ship's doctor can give you something if you get queasy," he declared, placing the champagne glasses on the table and sitting opposite her. "Hopefully that won't be necessary, but you're here to help me celebrate. Drink up!"

  "How exciting it must be to write a book, and congratulations," she beamed, lifting her glass. "Surely you didn't write the entire thing since you came on board."

  "No, I'm not that fast," he said with a chuckle "but these last few days have been extremely productive."

  "I'm so honored to be sharing this with you," she said happily, clinking his glass and sipping the fizzy drink. "I really am very complimented."

  "I'm honored that you accepted, and I'm curious. Did you have an opportunity to read Educating Emily?"

  Feeling a hot blush move across her face, Brittany lowered her eyes and spooned scrambled eggs on to her plate.

  "Quite a few chapters," she replied, wishing she had the courage to tell him she couldn't put it down, and the story was the sexiest she'd ever read. "You're such a good writer. It was a real pager-turner."

  "I'm glad you think so."

  "Duncan, the book you just finished. Is it the same, uh, subject matter?"

  "I don't write about anything else."

  Lifting her gaze, she caught his intense, brown flecked, blue eyes across the table.

  "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but are you like your hero?"

  "Your courage is to be commended. I'm surprised."

  "Why?"

  "It's not a question I'm often asked. The answer is yes, I'm very much like Jonas. Now it's my turn. Why are you on this cruise by yourself?"

  Brittany's heart skipped.

  "I was bored. I wanted an adventure."

  "Your honesty is so refreshing," he remarked, smiling at her. "You'd be amazed at how many times a simple question produces a flurry of white lies."

  "I've been told my candor is unsettling, but I don't know how to be any other way."

  "I'm sure it can be, but don't change," he said approvingly. "But on another matter, now my book is finished I have some time to enjoy myself. Would you care to have dinner with me this evening?"

  "I would, very much."

  "I prefer dining away from the thundering hordes. Would you mind eating here, perhaps on my deck if the weather permits?"

  "I wouldn't mind a bit."

  "Good, then it's settled. If you don't have other plans, would you like to take a walk when we finish breakfast? Though I suppose, considering the time, it's brunch."

  "No, I don't have other plans and I'd love to hear what your new book is about. The story, I mean."

  "If you're a good girl I might email you the manuscript."

  "What does that mean? How can I be a good girl?"

  "That's easy," he said, lowering his voice and fixing her with a steady gaze. "Just do as you're told. You've read the book. You know what happens to bad girls."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Both Brittany and Duncan knew why they were strolling the length of the deck. He hadn't used the word, but his comment had made his thoughts abundantly clear. He wanted to spank her, and she wanted him to. Whether a one-time event, or the beginning of something more, her potential trip over his knee loomed like a huge, white fluffy cloud. The promise shone through their eyes when they shared a look, and tingled through his fingers as he gently wrapped his hand around hers. By the time they were back in the thickly carpeted corridor, the erotic energy crackled between them. Standing next to her as she fumbled with her key, he finally took it from her hand and slid it in the lock.

  "When should I be ready for dinner?" she asked, wondering how she'd survive the day.

  "Seven o'clock, but before you go…"

  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he suddenly leaned in and kissed her. She was sure she would faint from the divine pleasure, but he slid his fingers into her hair, he titled her head to the side, and moved his lips to her ear.

  "I know you're a very cheeky girl underneath your polite exterior."

  "Sometimes."

  Heart hammering, the whispered word was all she could manage, and leaning against his chest, she closed her eyes and inhaled his spicy, masculine scent.

  "We have things to talk about," he purred, encircling her with his arms. "I must get back. The book may be finished, but writing the darn thing is the easy part."

  "I really am looking forward to hearing about it," she said softly, reluctantly stepping back.

  "As I said, if you're a good girl."

  He winked, then turned and strode down the hall.

  Entering her cabin, she closed the door and leaned against it, seeking support for her quivering body. His kiss had sent a warm flood through her sex and made her weak at the knees.

  "He's going to break my heart. I shouldn't see him tonight, but I have to, I absolutely have to."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Inside his stateroom Duncan smiled a Cheshire Cat grin. He'd tasted her hunger, her craving, her need to be over his knee with her bottom bared and his hand slapping with gusto. The thought of it had sent his cock to life, even more than the exquisite feel of her breasts pressed against his chest, and her soft yielding energy as she'd melted in his arms. Scanning his room, he considered where he might administer his discipline.

  "Poor baby, you need to be spanked so badly. You possess a submissive soul, and you're aching to be set free."

  Though the afternoon would be a long one, anticipation was half the fun and the hours would tick by much more slowly for Brittany. But the kiss had left him restless.

  "A jog," he declared, moving into his bedroom. "That's what I need. A long run around the track."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Though thrilled by the prospect of the evening ahead and the promise it held, a nagging doubt had crept into Brittany's head. Duncan could decide to simply have dinner and send her on her way. The spanking she so desperately craved might not come to pass, and her long-held fantasy might remain just that, a fantasy. The thought was almost too much to bear.

  "I can't leave this to chance, I can't," she muttered as she paced. "I have to do something to make it happen. The maid will be here soon. I could slip into his cabin and—ooh, I could open his computer and sneak a peek at his book. When he catches me he'll wallop me for sure."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Grabbing a chair, Brittany cracked open her cabin door and settled in to watch. She'd been keeping vigil only a few minutes when the housekeeper appeared pushing the trolley down the hallway. Stopping outside Duncan's cabin, the maid knocked twice before unlocking his door and walking inside.

  Brittany took a breath. It was time.

  Ignoring her voice of reason she hurried down the corridor and peered into the room. There was no sign of the maid, but Brittany could hear her humming in the bedroom. Darting across to the armoire in the corner, to her horror she discovered she couldn't fit through the narrow space to hide. Fighting panic, afraid to move back past the bedroom and into the hall, she moved quickly out the sliding glass door and onto the deck. Taking a moment to calm her frazzled nerves, she peeked into the bedroom. Pulling the vacuum behind her, the maid was on her way into the lounge. Brittany pushed open the slider, crept inside, and searched for a place to hide.

  The closet was her only option.

  Pulse racing she hurried across the thick carpet, cringing as she opened the folding door, then closing it softly behind her, she hid behind a row of hanging trousers.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Strolling down the hallway, still breathing heavily from his jog, Duncan saw the housekeeper rolling her trolley to the stateroom next to his. Entering his cabin he moved swiftly to the bathroom, stripped off, and stepped into the shower. As the water splashed over him and he roamed the soapy sponge across his body, he could feel the relaxing benefit of the long run. Quickly drying off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and ambled into the large walk-in closet. A cold nip lingered in the air, and he'd spied more t
han a few whitecaps during his trip around the track. Reaching down to retrieve a sweater from the built-in shelving, his eye caught an odd shape on the floor. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to discern what he was looking at.

  Manicured red toes in high-heeled white sandals.

  Hastily scooting the hangers aside, Brittany's wide eyes stared back at him. Rarely was Duncan speechless, but he had no words.

  "I, uh, am terribly sorry about this," she stammered. "I can explain."

  "Get out of there immediately," he retorted, grabbing her arm. "Go and wait for me in the other room. I'm not even dressed for heaven's sake."

  Taking in his naked torso, she ruefully moved past him, but as she did a fierce sting burned across her backside. Squealing in shock she spun around to see a long, thin, polished wooden stick. It took her a moment to realize he was holding a shoe-horn.

  "Duncan! Shit!"

  "What did you expect? Get yourself into the living room immediately, and don't even think about disappearing."

  Hands clutching her bottom, she raced into the lounge.

  Though furious, as he quickly dressed his anger gave way to curiosity, but marching into the living room he maintained a stern expression. Perched on the edge of the sofa appearing appropriately ashamed, Brittany stared up at him. He wasn't sure he believed her sheepish expression.

  "What do you have to say for yourself?"

  "There's no excuse for what I've done. All I can do is apologize."

  "Why the uninvited visit? I'll guess, shall I? You want me to spank you, but instead of allowing things to develop you decided to take matters into your own hands."

  "I'm that obvious?"

  "Completely transparent. I assume you slipped in while the maid cleaned the room."

  "I'm sorry, Duncan, I really am."

  "If we were back in London I'd take my cane to your backside. It would be the last time you'd pull such a stunt, I can assure you. Such childish behavior! I can't believe it!"

  "Sometimes I do things like this. I can't seem to stop myself."

  "Discipline. That's what you need."

  "Maybe."

  "There's no maybe about it. In a few days I'll be heading back to London and you'll be returning to South Carolina. Perhaps I should spend the next few days taking you in hand."

  "Yes, absolutely, yes," she nodded, her butterflies fluttering wildly.

  He hadn't meant it as a serious suggestion, and her enthusiastic response caught him by surprise, but the thought of it held great appeal.

  "You may be familiar with the adage, be careful what you wish for," he said solemnly. "Yes, I will spank you for this ridiculous prank, but I suspect you'll get more than you anticipated. You must be disciplined, and that, Brittany, is a different matter, very different indeed."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  With practiced ease Duncan prepared Brittany for punishment. Wrapping the satin sash from his black silk robe around her eyes, he guided her to the side of the couch, and slipping his hands under her dress, he pulled down her knickers, but left them around her thighs. A necktie secured her wrists at the small of her back, then clutching a fistful of hair, he bent her over the cushioned arm of the sofa.

  "Duncan, I—"

  "Sir!" he said sharply, pushing her skirt over her waist.

  "Sir," she said hastily, her face flaming red from the lewd exposure. "I'm truly sorry. I know I—"

  A hot slap suddenly landed on her naked backside.

  "Ow!"

  "No more talking, and if you must squeal, turn your head into the cushion."

  "Yes, Sir. Please may I say one more thing?"

  "You're testing my patience."

  "Please don't be too hard. I've never been spanked."

  "That is painfully obvious, and I'll spank you as I see fit. Are you ready?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  Holding her breath, she waited for him to begin, but to her horror he gripped one of her cheeks, pulled it aside, and touched her virgin rosebud.

  "No, no! Oh, my God! What are you doing?"

  His quick response was a shocking volley of stinging smacks.

  "Discipline can take many forms," he said sternly. "You attempted to control me, but you will learn I have the control, and I will do with you as I see fit. You are suffering embarrassment and humiliation because of your arrogance. Be quiet and take the punishment you deserve, or you can leave. Which is it to be?"

  "I'll stay, Sir," she whimpered. "Sorry."

  "Who's in control?" he demanded, pulling her cheek to the side and positioning a butt plug.

  "You are, Sir,"

  "What happens if you misbehave?"

  "I'll be punished, Sir."

  "Correct," he said brusquely, pushing the plug forward. "There. Now I'm going to spank you. You will not beg me to stop, you will not lift your head to cry out, nor will you gyrate your hips to avoid my hand. You will show me your obedience and remorse by remaining still."

  "Please can you take that thing out before you start?"

  Duncan could not believe his ears.

  Can you take that thing out?

  He had to stifle a laugh. In all the years he'd been harpooning and spanking naughty bottoms, never had he been met with, can you take that thing out? Though momentarily stumped, the appropriate response came to him. Withdrawing the unwanted intruder, he waited until he heard the breath of relief, then thrust it back in, paying no heed to her wail of displeasure.

  "Any other requests?" he asked, continuing to move the unwanted intruder in and out.

  "No, no, Sir, no. I'm sorry."

  "Since you delayed your spanking I'm adding ten additional swats with a leather soled slipper. You'll then kneel in the corner and think about this entire episode. Now I shall begin, and be prepared to have a very red, very sore bottom."

  She had barely processed his scolding words when the spanking began. He dispatched his hard slaps in a methodical, measured pace, occasionally rubbing his palm over her blushing skin. When her bottom was sufficiently scarlet, he tapped the flange of the unwelcome invader, then slowly pulled it out.

  "You can rest. I'll be back in a moment."

  Brittany's backside burned, and never had she endured such embarrassment. Duncan's heroine in Emily's Education had suffered a similar fate, and salacious scenes from the book flashed through her head, but the sound of Duncan's return snapped her from the decadent thoughts.

  "These swats will be quick," he warned, placing his hand on the small of her back, "and they will not be pleasant."

  "None of this has been pleasant," she muttered, then hastily added. "I wasn't being sassy."

  "I would call it cheeky, and you'd better learn to hold your tongue. I have no compunction about landing my slipper twenty times rather than ten."

  The slipper swished down on her scalded behind, and though the punishment was over in seconds, she was bleating and twisting her hips when he finished.

  Moving to the bar, Duncan poured himself a shot of cognac, lifting his glass in a private toast. She'd taken her spanking with fortitude, never once begging him to stop.

  "You are unique," he mumbled under his breath. "This is going to be a very interesting few days."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Untying her wrists and slipping her panties off her legs, Duncan placed Brittany in the corner with instructions to ponder her outrageous behavior. Though her foolish escapade should have consumed her thoughts, it was the erotic heat washing through her sex that held her attention. She ached to be naked with him, feel his lips on her breasts, and listen to his whispered promises.

  "Do you have anything to say?"

  She hadn't heard his approach, and snapped from her decadent daydream, it took her a moment to gather her wits.

  "I'm waiting."

  "Yes, Sir, I have many things to say, and something to ask."

  "What's your question?"

  "How much longer do I have to stay here?"

  Her brazenness baffled him, but leaning forward he
placed his lips at her ear.

  "After everything you've just endured, surely you know the answer to that."

  "As long as you want me to, Sir."

  "And how do you think I feel about that question?"

  "That it's inappropriate, Sir."

  "I understand this is new so I'll give you some latitude, but not much. There must be consequences for that insolence, and they'll come at dinner, assuming you still wish to join me."

  "I do, Sir."

  "Spread your legs."

  The instruction took her by surprise, and wriggling her knees apart she waited expectantly for his touch.

  "I know what you want," he said softly. "You're praying my fingers will slide into your sex and pleasure you. They won't. I'm putting you in touch with your need."

  "But Sir, I am in touch with it."

  "Be that as it may, you must return to your cabin, strip naked, sit on your sore bottom and write me a letter. Tell me what you thought and felt during your discipline and while you've been kneeling in the corner. When you're finished you'll slip it under my door, then return to your bedroom to nap, but you're not to touch yourself. Any questions?"

  "No, Sir."

  "You can get up."

  He helped her rise to her feet, and to her great joy he brought her into his arms.

  "Poor Brittany, you have such a sore backside" he purred, slipping off the blindfold. "You've lacked discipline for a long time, but now you've finally met someone who can meet that need."

  Swept up by an unexpected wave of emotion, she sank against his chest and tried to swallow the unexpected heat in her throat.

  "If you're feeling the need to cry that's natural. I'm here, and I won't let you go until you're ready."

  "How did you know?"

  "It's my job to know."

  "I'm not the crying type, but I do feel emotional," she admitted, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder.