He did mean it. No sooner did he enter their bedchamber than Ranulf asked, “Have you dreaded this moment, lady? Nay, there is no need to answer. Your behavior this day speaks for itself. But you have concluded wrongly, for whatever reason.”
Reina sat on a stool by the hearth, where she had been combing her hair. Ranulf crossed to the bed and took up the exact same position on it he had assumed that morn. She could do no more than stare at him in total dismay.
“Come, Reina,” he said in the most casual tone. “This will not take long.”
Oh, just like that? The lout, the brute! How dared he be so calm about it?
“And if I refuse?”
“Then ’twill just take longer—much longer.”
He was not counting the time he would have to chase her about the room, she was sure. “If I had let you have your way this morn, you would not now be reconciled with your father,” she said bitterly. “Does that count for naught?”
“The means do not justify the end, Reina. You totally ignored my wishes and forced me to accept yours. What we do here is assure that never happens again.”
“What you do here is barbaric!”
“Did I fetch a whip, lady,thatwould be barbaric.”
He came to his feet as he said it, and Reina jumped to hers also. When he did not come after her, however, she realized he was still giving her a chance to make this easier on herself. Did she want a worse punishment just for the sake of a little, useless resistance?
Reina forced herself to close the distance, stopping before him with bowed head. Her stomach was queasy with dread, her heart pounding. It did not feel right, this weak submission, but what else could she do? A wife simply did not go against her husband, taunting him and provoking him until she had her way. And this husband was going to make sure she remembered that, rot his inflexible stubbornness.
“A wise decision,” he said as he sat down again and drew her onto his lap. “You may retain the robe you are wearing. ’Twill be a simple matter to lift it out of the way.”
She had the feeling he said that only to increase her distress and humiliation, and it worked. That he was not being rough with her, or sharp in his tone, only seemed to make it worse. His voice was husky, his hands gentle as he turned her over so that she rested across his thighs. Reina dropped her head down to hide her face, and placed one hand against the bed, the other on his left knee. Did she feel the need to push herself out of this horrible position, she would have the leverage. Or so she thought. His left hand, coming to rest in the center of her back with a subtle pressure, seemed to say otherwise.
Alarm bells of a different sort went off in her head when he began to raise her robe. He did it by setting his hand on the back of her calf and slowly gliding that hand up her leg, the robe perforce coming with it. ’Twas a caress, plain and simple, and it gave her the strangest sensations. Her body no longer knew what to anticipate, pain or pleasure. Her mind was reeling with the same confusion. Was this a punishment?
Soon the robe was gathered at her waist, his hand removed, and Reina braced herself, her eyes squeezed shut. Her face burned to have her bottom bared to him. Her heart was now racing. Only he did nothing immediately, and the suspense was terrible, the wait worse than aught that he could do by way of punishment.
When the smack finally came, ’twas almost anticlimactic. Almost, but not entirely. Hot and stinging, it brought a gasp from her that was only half surprise, and a tensing of her muscles to receive another. But there was no other, only his voice coming to her softly.
“In case you wondered, little Reina, that was the extent of the punishment I intended to give you when I brought you up here this morn.” Her reaction was immediate, every muscle relaxing in relief. “But while I had you in this convenient position, I meant to do this.” Her eyes flew open when she felt a kiss on the reddened imprint left by his hand. “And this.” Reina sucked in her breath as his fingers slid inside her body with no difficulty at all. This was what that other caress had prepared her for, and she had no resistance against the heat that flooded her. “Of course, I am forgetting that you warned me not to touch you afterward, something about not forgiving me.” He paused, his fingers tormenting her. “Is that right?”
Reina was throbbing, on fire, could barely speak. “Mayhap… I was a bit…hasty.”
“Or mayhap it no longer matters?” His fingers brought forth another gasp. “Does it?”
“Nay.”
“Red Alma was right again, it seems,” he said with a note of satisfaction. “Fear combined with the correct stimulation can increase a woman’s pleasure to the point that she will overlook whatever small punishment she receives.”
Reina tensed, but not enough to combat the haze of pleasure he had created with such unbelievable swiftness. “You went to her again?”
“Nay, ’twas a bit of information she volunteered in her gratitude for the large sum I gifted her with for her help. And she has been most helpful, has she not?” His fingers withdrew, thrust back, withdrew, bringing Reina to the very edge of ecstasy. “Shall we put it to the test?”
She thought he already had, but then she was not thinking clearly at the moment. “How?”
“What I mentioned was what I originally meant to do.” His change of tone gave her warning. “But since then you have earned at least another…”
“Ran—nulf!” Her voice rose before she got his name out, for she heard the crack of his hand ere she felt it, and the stinging pain was much worse than before. “What did I do?” she shrieked.
“You had at me again in this very chamber, lady. Rail at me in front of my father, will you?” Again his hand descended.
“Ranulf!”
“Call me a dog-hearted clodpate, will you?” Another wallop.
