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She turned a little as Captain Ford placed a chair some feet before the mirror and sat facing her, hands on his thighs as if he was waiting for her compliance.

Waiting for her performance—as if she were a character in his very own private play.

He scowled. “The mirror, Miss Winslow. Look at yourself in it now.”

To follow his orders meant she would have to stand directly in front of him. What harm could come of that since he insisted it was all right? She took a step, placed herself before the mirror, and stared at her reflection. She had always resented that her skin wasn’t fair. She was too much like her mother in appearance, her father had often claimed with a hint of regret. Her saving grace was her eyes, her prettiest feature by far. She widened her attention to the rest of her appearance. A poor maid wearing a drab brown gown that did not flatter her complexion or figure stared back. She lowered her eyes, properly shamed before the captain. Overall, she was nothing special to look at. “You were making fun of me.”

He frowned. “I’d never do that.”

“Why not? Everyone else does.” She complained and then bit her lip. Her employer wouldn’t want to know about her problems, and especially not on his last day ashore.

“Everyone else is either a fool or jealous, Miss Winslow.” He pulled a face. “You could wear sack cloth and still be the most remarkable and distracting woman in the room.”

His words made her skin heat with a blush, but she smiled too. She liked the idea that he had noticed her, even if he was so far above her. But was unwise to think a captain in his majesties navy could want to pay too much attention to a lowly maid when he was as handsome as William Ford. However, the way he scowled at her sometimes had made her feel so very insignificant. Did he not want to like her? He probably didn’t. “Thank you.”

“Now come here and sit on my knee,” he said quietly.

She spun about. “Why?”

“Your punishment,” he said calmly. “You cannot play with my possessions without consequences.”

She blinked as he reached forward slowly to capture her wrist, his gaze fastened to her face until she blushed.

“I issue orders and expect to be obeyed in all things. Especially in the bedchamber.” His brow rose. “Or do you imagine yourself above my rules? I do not like snoops, Miss Winslow.”

“I’m sorry, Captain.” He tugged, and Matilda stumbled forward. He eased her down on his knees. “It won’t happen again,” she promised as she clutched at his shoulders to steady herself.

Eye to eye, her pulse raced. He was so very handsome and sure of himself. The very thing Matilda never was around him. All of Matilda’s senses seemed ready to fly apart just by being so close to him.

His gaze drifted to her lips. “Don’t be sorry. But accept my punishment now and do as I ask in the future.”

She nodded, breathless at the way he was regarding her mouth. “Yes, Captain.”

His eyes widened and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “Yes, to what?”

Matilda wriggled on her scandalous perch; sure he would steal a kiss and more. “They say a maid who is foolish enough to fall into her employers arms, deserves her ruin and the loss of her employment. I do need to be punished.”

“Never consider that I could turn you out for any reason,” he whispered, his breath hot against her throat. “What happens between us is strictly our business and will remain a secret. I will punish you, bring you pleasure, and that will be an end to the matter.”

She squirmed even more as she considered what sort of punishment he might deliver that brought pleasure. She was not afraid of him. At the very least she might be expected to polish his bedchamber from one end to the other as punishment for her misadventure today, at the worst he might kiss her witless. Make love to her. Her sex throbbed with unexpected anticipation. “Very well. Punish me however you like.”

No sooner were the words spoken than he flipped her over so she dangled over his limbs. Matilda gasped in surprise as he held her there by placing one arm over and around her waist firmly.

His other hand connected with her backside the next moment, and she cried out, kicking at the shock of his idea of punishment. She expected ruin, not a spanking. “What are you doing, sir?”

“Captain,” he reminded her. “You agreed to be punished in any way I deemed fit.” He struck again, so hard that her eyes filled with tears and her face grew hot. “I do not want you touching that mask ever again. Never wear it. It is not for the likes of you.”

“I won’t wear it again.”

He held his hand still on her bottom and kneaded her flesh through the gown. “Do you understand that a line was crossed today?”

“I understand,” she whispered. “Captain.”

“You continue to place yourself in my path, so there’s nothing else to be done but continue as we are.”

She frow

ned and clutched at his leg to steady herself. “I don’t understand.”


Tags: Heather Boyd Rebel Hearts Historical