“Why not?”
He nearly laughed at the utterly blank look on her face. Finally, still staring at him, she said, “Well, I don’t know. It isn’t right, I guess. Besides, there is nothing more about discipline that you could teach me.”
It was amazing how very certain she could sound. “You think not, do you?”
She retrenched; he saw it, and was amused by it. A little over a month ago he’d had no idea that a Miss Helen Mayberry even existed. Now he could not imagine not having her here, near him, tied down to his bed.
She cleared her throat. She took another sip of her tea. “Didn’t you tell me that you wanted to give me everything I could possibly want?”
“Not that I remember.”
“You did, or something very close, something that was vastly romantic and utterly outrageous. You said you thought we would deal well together. I am not dealing well right now. I am tied down. I don’t like this.”
He gave her a slow sweet smile. “All you have to do is tell me you will marry me and we will be on our way to Vicar Lockleer Gilliam within the hour.”
“I could agree, then leave you and Vicar Gilliam alone at the altar.”
“You could, but that would be very disappointing, Helen. Your father gave me a fairly complete list of all your weaker points, all your pesky little character flaws, your minuscule little foibles, as he called them. He never said you were a liar.”
“I’m not, blast you.”
“Good. Will you marry me?”
She chewed her bottom lip. He saw that her lips were chapped and he frowned. He walked over to the dressing table and began opening the drawers. He found cream in the second drawer.
He sat beside her on the bed, dipped his finger in the thick white cream, then began to rub it into her lips. She just stared at him, not moving. She had a free hand but it just lay there beside her on the bed.
“Thank you,” she said when he was finally finished.
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her again, tasting the cream that was rather like licking the bark on an oak tree. “Now, will you marry me?”
“No.”
“Very well, are you ready for your Level Three punishment for tossing your tea in my face?”
“It isn’t more than a Level One.”
“Just what do you consider a Level One punishment?”
“It is being left alone for two full hours, in a darkened room, with no one to talk to, no water to drink, nothing to eat. I usually use the tack room in the back of the stable. It is quite dark.”
He sighed. “Well, it isn’t at all titillating, but I suppose what’s fair is fair.”
He pulled the draperies closed. He firmly tied her other wrist again to the headboard. He pulled the covers to her chest, patted her cheek, then kissed her mouth. He rose, looking down at her for a moment. He began to whistle. He removed the tray and left her alone. She heard his whistle as he retreated down the hallway.
He did not come back.
Helen decided as she lay there that this simple punishment was much worse than she had ever imagined. It was a Level Three, at the very least. She would have to reevaluate her discipline scale.
Surely nearly a day had passed when finally the bedchamber door opened. Helen could have leapt on him, she was so glad to see him.
He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, stee pling his long fingers, tapping their ends together, rhythmically, slowly. She found herself staring at those fingers of his, remembering where they had touched her, and she shuddered, not enough for him to notice, but enough so that she felt it to her toes. And speaking of touching, why wasn’t he all over her? In the normal course of things, he couldn’t wait to be all over her. Here she was, laid out like an offering, and he was just sitting there, tapping his wretched fingers. What was wrong with him?
“One of the most efficacious disciplinary techniques I have ever discovered is what I call, as of this moment, ‘not quite ecstasy.’ ”
Helen’s heart began to pound, slow, deep strokes. Her face was alight with excitement. Spenser cleared his throat. “You see, Helen, you and I together are something I have never imagined happening in my life. I touch you and you become utterly wild.”
“I am not the only one here with no control. What do you do when I touch you?”