CHAPTER 2
Valerie
He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. My drop-dead gorgeous fiancé, or… I swallowed hard…bridegroom, today. How long had he been there? Had he been watching me?
My bridegroom…tall and broad-shouldered, his work-roughened hands both strong and careful when they held me. Perfectly neat dark brown hair, square jaw set with what I thought looked dismayingly like determination. Blue eyes—always so calm and steady—looking almost… stern? Dressed in a crisp shirt and clean jeans, he looked every bit the man I was supposed to trust, supposed to obey.
My face burned all the hotter with humiliation at that idea, as I yanked my hand out of my panties and tried to pull up my own jeans with shaking fingers.
“What are you doing?” His voice was calm. Too calm.
I had to say something. Anything. Should I tell the truth? Confess what I had been doing? Beg him to explain why my body was acting this way?
No. No, I couldn’t. It was too embarrassing. Too shameful.
“Nothing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
His eyes held mine for a long moment. I could see that he didn’t believe me. Of course he didn’t believe me. He had probably seen everything.
But then, to my surprise, he just nodded slowly. “All right.”
He was letting it go. He was going to pretend he hadn’t seen anything.
Relief flooded through me, followed immediately by something else. Something that felt almost like…disappointment? Why did part of me wish he had pressed the issue? Demanded the truth? Insisted that I confess?
The feeling confused me so much that I almost didn’t hear his next question.
“Why aren’t you getting ready?”
The direct question snapped me back to the present situation. My jeans were still unbuttoned. The lingerie still lay untouched on the bed. And Chris was looking at me with an expression that made my stomach flip.
Something in me rebelled. I couldn’t just submit to all of this without at least trying to assert myself. To show him that I had my own will. My own thoughts and feelings.
“I don’t like the lingerie,” I said, lifting my chin. “I want to postpone the wedding.”
“That’s not going to happen.” His voice was still calm, but there was steel underneath now. “You’re going to put on the lingerie, Valerie, and we’re going to get married today—and then we can spend our honeymoon figuring out why?—”
“You’re not my husband yet.” The words, interrupting him, came out more defiant than I intended.
Chris took a step into the room and closed the door behind him. “According to the New Modesty Authority, I’ve had the right to expect your obedience since I became your accepted suitor. I just didn’t think I needed to use that right.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “What?”
“I clearly do now, though.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You have one more chance to start getting dressed. Or you’ll face the consequences.”
“What…” My mouth had gone dry. “What consequences?”
His eyes never left mine. “I think you’ve probably guessed.”
He was indeed going to spank me. Right here, right now. Before the wedding. Before I was even his wife.
And part of me—that terrible, shameful part of me that had just been touching myself—wanted him to do it.
No.No, I couldn’t just give in like that. I had to show him I had spirit. That I wouldn’t be a doormat, even if I loved him.
“I demand that we postpone the wedding by a week.”
Chris moved to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, right next to the white lace lingerie. He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
