The Affair

“You don’t really think I’d leave you without resources after insisting that you attend the race with me, do you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. “Did you return the clothes, or not?”

“I did,” he said briskly, straightening. He took her hand. “But I had Marco go to the Breakers and get something else for you there. My aunt Michelle—Dean’s wife—helped me arrange it. And this something I’m referring to truly is yours. You won’t have to worry about accepting anything from me.”

“What?”

“Come here,” he said, tugging on her hand when she just stared up at him in amazement. She followed him across the room to the trunk Marco had taken off the plane. He flipped it on its side and opened it. Inside, there were several garment bags that had been folded once, one on top of another. He drew some keys out of his pant pocket and grabbed several of the garment bags.

“Follow me,” he said, turning. She trailed him to a door. He used a key to unlock it and swung it open. He flipped on a light, and Emma followed him into a large walk-in closet. Very quickly and efficiently, Va

“Oh, they’re gorgeous,” Emma whispered, stepping forward to touch a stu

“Did you return the ones you bought me and buy different ones?” she asked.

“No. These are yours. Bequeathed to you by Cristina.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Apparently, she contacted her lawyer in the last days before she died and altered her will, leaving you her entire wardrobe, shoes, accessories . . . everything. It’s no small thing,” Va

“She and I did discuss her love of fashion,” Emma said numbly, her mind trying to make sense of what Va

“What?” Va

“She said she wanted me to have all her clothes. I didn’t take her seriously, though. I only knew her for a little over a week.”

“I told you she liked you,” he said quietly.

His eyes looked shrouded in the dim light of the closet, but she saw the glint in them as he stared at her. Emma touched the dresses in a mixture of awe and sadness. “I probably shouldn’t accept them . . . but I will,” she said with breathless resolution. Cristina had wanted her to have them, for whatever reason. Emma thought enough of her not to refuse such a lavish, thoughtful gift. Cristina hadn’t done it randomly, she just knew that somehow.

“It was a very personal gift,” Va

“I know. Clothes meant so much to her,” Emma agreed in a hushed tone.

She looked over her shoulder and met his stare, seeing the hunger gleaming in his eyes as he watched her. Her pulse began to leap at her throat.

“Come here,” he said.

She swallowed, a thread in his tone making her skin prickle with awareness. Something caught her attention to the left of him as she walked into his arms.

“Oh my,” she mumbled, craning to see what hung on the wall behind him. A rush of excitement went through her, hot and forbidden, something akin to what she’d felt that night in the armoire, but this time more intense.

“You know I always feel like you’re out of my reach,” he said quietly, ignoring her anxious stare over his shoulder.

She looked up at him slowly when he caught her chin, her fingers clutching instinctively on his hard, muscular biceps. “I’m right here,” she whispered.

“Yes. But you deprived me of your presence for four days,” he said, a hard glimmer of challenge and dark amusement in his eyes. An electrical shiver ran through her. “So I’m going to give you a little punishment.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, giving him a glare for good measure.

“That’s not what this is about. It would give me pleasure to have you at my mercy. I need it, after what you did. I believe it will give you excitement and pleasure as well. That’s all. Now I want you to go and choose one,” he hitched his chin in the direction behind him, and Emma knew very well he’d known exactly what she was looking at the whole time.

She again looked past him. There was a built-in chest of drawers, but above, instruments of sexy punishment were hanging on the wall. She saw several leather floggers and what appeared to be a riding crop. There were several sizes of paddles—long and thin, medium and wide, short and round.

The idea of being the one to choose her method of sexual punishment amplified the forbidden thrill of the dark room, Va

But she was learning a few things . . .

She reached, removing the polished, long wood paddle that was about two and a half feet long and four inches wide. Heat scalded her cheeks when she saw Va

“You’ll have to take your strokes on a paddling bench with that large of a paddle,” he said gently. “Is that all right?”

“What’s a paddling bench?”

“It’s a padded bench that you kneel on to receive the punishment. I could have you bend over with that paddle, but I’d prefer the bench today. You will be completely exposed to me, but you’ll be comfortable.” He seemed to notice her hesitation. “You can choose another paddle if you prefer. With a shorter one, I could paddle you across my knee.”

She shook her head, her throat too constricted to speak.

“Go out into the bedroom then, and get undressed. I’ll join you in a moment.” He reached up and swept his forefinger along her cheek and jaw, his actions striking her as very tender. She walked past him, not taking a full breath until she stood by the bed. A shadow was cast on the balcony outside the French doors now, leaving the room cool and comfortable. In the distance, the Mediterranean sparkled like a jewel in the bright sunshine.

The sea breeze tickled her sensitive nipples and the skin of her belly and thighs a moment later when she removed her panties—the last item of clothing she wore. She swept her hand along a buttock, imagining how hot it would soon be from the paddle. She dropped it guiltily to her side when she heard Va