Maeve froze but for her hands twisting her pleated skirt. He sat on the bed watching her puzzle it out while she glared at him.
“I have been thinkin’ about it,” she admitted with a sigh. “And worryin’ about it. What if you’re wrong and it hurts every time? You’re a big man, Sean, much bigger than me. It doesn’t seem right, somehow. Why would God design us to fit together that way if ’tis goin’ to be painful? I’ve heard talk. Some women hate it and some love it. What makes the difference? Is it size? Maybe you should find someone bigger?”
“Aw, sweet lass, we’re perfect for one another. I wish I could show you now, but then I’d make all the suspicions into truth and you’d feel even worse. Trust me, love. You’re goin’ to be one of the women who love it, I promise.”
“How can you be sure?” she demanded, leaning forward.
“I just am that’s all. I think the women who love it are women who are loved, in body, mind and spirit. I love you with everythin’ that’s in me, darlin’, and I’ll be patient with you if it kills me.”
Maeve let her body relax and sighed in relief. She did trust him and he’d never lied to her before. In fact, he was one of thefew people she knew who always told the truth. Then another thought occurred to her.
“What about the spankin’, O’Malley?” she asked with a firm tone. “I’m not sure I hold with that. I mean who died and made you the boss of me? Why do I have to listen to every little thing you say like I’m a nitwit and you know where the Holy Grail is? And what if you do hurt me, really hurt me, like break my tailbone or somethin’ while you’re wailin’ away on me, happy as an old clam because you’re in charge?” she asked, waving her hand around and not really looking at him. It was a mistake.
“Now that’s somethin’ I can help you with,” he said, lunging across the bed and snagging her around the wrist. In two seconds he had her, sat himself down and proceeded to arrange her over his lap.
“How is this helpin’ me?” she screamed in outrage.
“’Tis helpin’ you so you won’t have to worry about it anymore. You’ll know what to expect and this will clear up what you’ve got comin’ to you and give you a fresh start. Remember we talked about fresh starts?”
“I remember,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Good, are you comfortable?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself.
“Oh, aye, ’tis lovely,” she ground out. “Now get your hand off my arse!”
“Darlin’, I hope you’re not goin’ to add to this by swearin’,” he drawled, patting her skirt covered bottom.
“No, but I am goin’ to scream this house down,” she replied, glowering at him over her shoulder.
“In that case, I’d better make it good,” he smiled, flipping up her skirt and exposing her blue lace panties. “My, my, who would have thought a good Catholic school girl wouldn’t be wearin’ plain white panties? These are certainly more interestin’, even if they are barely coverin’ what should be covered.”
“Shut up, O’Malley, and let me go. This has gone on long enough,” she hissed, flushing with embarrassment. She didn’t care if he was going to be her husband, he shouldn’t be talking about her panties.
“On the contrary, sweet lass, we haven’t even begun yet. Do you know why you’re gettin’ spanked?”
“Aye, because you’re an arrogant blowhard who thinks he’s the boss of everythin’,” she sniped, wiggling for all she was worth and drumming on the bed with her fists.
“I thought you weren’t going to swear?”
“I lied. Besides blowhard could be a term of endearment in some cases, such as this one,” she informed him, grinning as she thought about worse things she could have called him.
“Well, in that case, let me give you the details of this little lesson.”
Instantly, she felt hope. He’d said little; surely that was a good sign.
“Aye, dear,” she cooed, inspecting her nails in a most unconcerned way.
“The most serious issue we have ’tis the stunt you pulled the other night. When I think of what could and would have happened had my brother not told me what he’d seen, it makes me crazy. Drinkin’ with people you don’t know, and worse takin’ a drug from a stranger, is more than enough reason to make sure you don’t sit for a week,” he said without an ounce of humor in his voice.
Maeve had the sense that little wasn’t exactly the right word for what was going to happen here. Fighting down the panic, she kept still.
“I think you’re basically a mite too sassy, but it’s hard for me to get mad at you, you’re so darn cute. You should thank your lucky stars for that by the way, but your mouth is goin’ to get you into trouble at some point, and you need to know that a tripover my knees is always a possibility. I don’t particularly care for swearin’ either.”
“Yet you were cussin’ up a storm when I got here. Not fair.”
“I was mad.”
“So you can swear when you’re mad, but I can’t?” she demanded.
