tenacity.
“Moriarty will be fine, fortunately,” he told her, although he was exasperated as he said it. He watched her let out a relieved sigh, and continued, “And you’re lucky to be fine, as well. What was my first rule, Charlotte?”
She chewed on her lip and said, “Well, if you look at it from my point of view—”
“ Charlotte ,” he reproached firmly.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, and truly seemed to have meant it. But her eyes glazed with fear and embarrassment. “I really am.”
“So am I. I a m very sorry indeed that that happened. What was the first rule?”
She let out a short sigh and recited, “Not to leave the property alone.”
“Good,” he rumbled, walking towards her and then guiding her by the arm towards her bed. “You can listen and learn. You’re just disobedient—that I can fix. I can no t fix stupidity .”
“ Duh, I’m not stupid!” she assured, blushing deeply. “But, please —Look … Just try to understand, I—”
Ashcroft pushed her down so she was seated by the edge of the bed and he knelt down in front of her. He put the belt next to her on the bed, which her eyes fixated on even as he grabbed her foot and placed it on his bent knee, reached into his pocket and pulled out an open braced cuff of dragon crystal. He clasped it around her ankle by a jewel before she could even react to the cuff’s coldness.
“What is this?” she demanded, sounding alarmed.
“If I can no t trust you to stay, then I’m afraid I’ll just have to force you to,” he replied, and tugged at the band, watching it as it stretched under his skilled fingers as if it was a band of elastic, trying to situate it so that it wasn’t tight around Charlotte’s skin. He wanted her to be able to get her stockings under it, but not be able to pull it past her heel.
She yanked her foot away from his grasp and tried to pull it off. She couldn’t—the metal was solid as a diamond under her fingers. She tried to unsnap the jeweled clasp, but it wouldn’t unclasp for her. “What is it?” she repeated.
“Dragon crystal. It’s impossible for the imprisoned to snap off of themselves by anyone but the master of the crystal’s partner.” He plucked at a chain around his neck until a small chuck of flattened crystal—no bigger than a locket—was visible. And then he dropped it back under his shirt.
“So you ARE keeping me prisoner!” she charged, her lips pursing together, her blue eyes searing into him.
He hated that look—that look of betrayal. But it didn’t make him feel as guilty as he knew she hoped it would. It angered him. She was the one that betrayed him. Lots of young Archivists would have killed to be his assistant. And she couldn’t find one ounce of gratitude to him for taking her under his wing and helping her to continue the education of her race. “That i s one way to look at it. And I would save the attitude and the look on your face. You’re lucky Moriarty was there to save you.”
She lifted her chin. “I shouldn’t have been in the Otherworld in the first place,” she argued. “What kind of person stays here when they could just leave?”
“One who promised me she’d obey my rules,” he replied, looking over her body as if studying it. He felt himself biting back the primal urge to dominate her—to mount her.
“Promised under duress,” she argued.
He needed to spank her, not touch her, and get the hell out of the room. He couldn’t think at all rationally around her. He couldn’t even argue—his tongue was tied. But he glared darkly at her so not to show it. He pointed at the bed, “I’m sick of bantering. You nearly got yourself killed. Now bend over the edge.”
Her face suddenly went blank—void of all emotion—and then she scooted back up the bed. “Look, isn’t this ankle-thingy bad enough?”
“No.”
“Ashcroft—this spanking stuff can’t fly. I’m nineteen years old, and—”
“Do you want it on the bare bottom,
“Moriarty will be fine, fortunately,” he told her, although he was exasperated as he said it. He watched her let out a relieved sigh, and continued, “And you’re lucky to be fine, as well. What was my first rule, Charlotte?”
She chewed on her lip and said, “Well, if you look at it from my point of view—”
“ Charlotte ,” he reproached firmly.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, and truly seemed to have meant it. But her eyes glazed with fear and embarrassment. “I really am.”
“So am I. I a m very sorry indeed that that happened. What was the first rule?”
She let out a short sigh and recited, “Not to leave the property alone.”
“Good,” he rumbled, walking towards her and then guiding her by the arm towards her bed. “You can listen and learn. You’re just disobedient—that I can fix. I can no t fix stupidity .”
“ Duh, I’m not stupid!” she assured, blushing deeply. “But, please —Look … Just try to understand, I—”
Ashcroft pushed her down so she was seated by the edge of the bed and he knelt down in front of her. He put the belt next to her on the bed, which her eyes fixated on even as he grabbed her foot and placed it on his bent knee, reached into his pocket and pulled out an open braced cuff of dragon crystal. He clasped it around her ankle by a jewel before she could even react to the cuff’s coldness.
“What is this?” she demanded, sounding alarmed.
“If I can no t trust you to stay, then I’m afraid I’ll just have to force you to,” he replied, and tugged at the band, watching it as it stretched under his skilled fingers as if it was a band of elastic, trying to situate it so that it wasn’t tight around Charlotte’s skin. He wanted her to be able to get her stockings under it, but not be able to pull it past her heel.
She yanked her foot away from his grasp and tried to pull it off. She couldn’t—the metal was solid as a diamond under her fingers. She tried to unsnap the jeweled clasp, but it wouldn’t unclasp for her. “What is it?” she repeated.
“Dragon crystal. It’s impossible for the imprisoned to snap off of themselves by anyone but the master of the crystal’s partner.” He plucked at a chain around his neck until a small chuck of flattened crystal—no bigger than a locket—was visible. And then he dropped it back under his shirt.
“So you ARE keeping me prisoner!” she charged, her lips pursing together, her blue eyes searing into him.
He hated that look—that look of betrayal. But it didn’t make him feel as guilty as he knew she hoped it would. It angered him. She was the one that betrayed him. Lots of young Archivists would have killed to be his assistant. And she couldn’t find one ounce of gratitude to him for taking her under his wing and helping her to continue the education of her race. “That i s one way to look at it. And I would save the attitude and the look on your face. You’re lucky Moriarty was there to save you.”
She lifted her chin. “I shouldn’t have been in the Otherworld in the first place,” she argued. “What kind of person stays here when they could just leave?”
“One who promised me she’d obey my rules,” he replied, looking over her body as if studying it. He felt himself biting back the primal urge to dominate her—to mount her.
“Promised under duress,” she argued.
He needed to spank her, not touch her, and get the hell out of the room. He couldn’t think at all rationally around her. He couldn’t even argue—his tongue was tied. But he glared darkly at her so not to show it. He pointed at the bed, “I’m sick of bantering. You nearly got yourself killed. Now bend over the edge.”
Her face suddenly went blank—void of all emotion—and then she scooted back up the bed. “Look, isn’t this ankle-thingy bad enough?”
“No.”
“Ashcroft—this spanking stuff can’t fly. I’m nineteen years old, and—”
“Do you want it on the bare bottom,
Similar Books
