by Starla Kaye
He studied her, his hands still not moving to his belt.
"I shouldn't have forced you to sex--or to want sex--with me. And I shouldn't have embarrassed your partners, and their wives, with my inappropriately provocative dress." Her heart raced as she went the final step. "I behaved badly, although I didn't mean to hurt you. Badly enough that I deserve a taste of your belt."
He still hesitated, although his hands moved to his belt. Knees shaking, she removed her coat and then her dress, laying them on one corner of the bed. She felt his heated gaze on her as she determinedly went to place two pillows in the center of the bed. Then before she could change her mind, she crawled onto the bed and moved until her vulnerable bottom was waiting for his attention on the pillows.
She turned her head in time to see him pulling the belt from the loops of his slacks. The whisper of the movement had her sucking in a nervous breath. As if hypnotized, she watched him carefully double the thin leather belt and walk in her direction.
Jett's expression was grim, although she could clearly see regret in his eyes. She also saw love.
He placed the cold leather against her bare bottom and her cheeks quivered. Still looking at each other, he said, "A dozen lashes should be enough."
As he lifted the belt to begin, Valerie gritted her teeth and turned away to lay her head on the satin quilt. She took each lash with the determination to endure it. She'd pushed him into this, after all. And his heart didn't really seem to be into punishing her, for which she was grateful. He'd given her beltings before and they'd been awful. Not quite as bad as a caning, but awful.
It wasn't until the final two lashes that he put any real force behind them. The first one caused her to jerk her head up in surprise. The last one made her cry out.
"Just so you know, I've wanted to have sex with you for days now. You didn't need to force me."
She'd dropped her head back down to let the pain settle in so she could get beyond it. Then she heard the whisper of him sliding the belt back through the loops. Her bottom quivered again just at the sound. But she couldn't let him walk away without saying something.
"Are you ever going to forgive me, Jett?"
"I'm trying." With that he left.
Chapter Four
His body didn't really want to, but Jett slipped carefully from Valerie's bed. It was still dark out and far earlier than he normally got up for work. But he had a full schedule of meetings today, actually all week. It all started with an early breakfast meeting with a client. If not for that, he'd have crawled back between the covers to catch a few more z's. He felt like he hadn't slept all weekend, and, in truth, he hadn't gotten much rest.
As he inched his way across the darkened room toward the hallway, he glanced back toward the bed. He didn't have to see clearly to know his wife slept the sleep of the dead because he'd worn her out only a few hours ago. Actually they'd worn each other out, and they'd been doing that off and on all weekend long. One thing about them, their sex life had always been amazing. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. He hadn't even gone into the office over the weekend, something way out of character for him. It was like he'd been desperate for these moments with her, as if all too soon this magic would end.
Ridiculous as it was when you considered all their frantic lovemaking, he didn't believe things would work out between them. There were still so many problems they hadn't discussed, so many differences. He had never been a man who believed in that adage "opposites attract." Well, maybe they did, but he had trouble believing those opposites could make anything permanent, like a forever-after kind of marriage. And he certainly wasn't a romantic kind of man, so these kinds of thoughts were hard for him.
He walked slowly through the sprawling house toward the master suite, his bedroom. Why had he started coming to her bed these last few nights? Why hadn't he told her to come back to what had been their bedroom? Why didn't she just do it on her own?
Flicking on the light switch as he stepped into the master suite, he looked at the expansive room he'd started spending less and less time inside. Angry after she'd left him, he'd had it redecorated by the same decorator who had done the office. Valerie had always said the office felt cold, distant, and uncomfortable. It was an office; he hadn't cared how it looked other than professional. But, now that he actually looked at his bedroom, he hated it. Where Valerie had soft colors and lightness in the bedroom she'd taken over and redone, this room was filled with dark colors, heavy cherry furniture, and sedateness. He didn't feel comfortable here. Maybe this was why he preferred joining her in her bedroom.
A fact that his body was interested in doing again. He had to stop thinking about his sexy little wife lying temptingly tousled in that big, warm bed filled with the scent of their lovemaking. His rod hardened. Okay, those types of thoughts were not helping.
He headed for the shower, grateful the weekend was over with. No more excuses for staying away from the office. Once he was deep into work he would be all right again. The intense sexual urges would be replaced by his usual adrenaline high in connection with work. He was all about work. And that fact was one of the biggest reasons he doubted the marriage could be salvaged. Valerie had no real focus in her life other than their marriage. His tendency to stay at the office far longer than 8-5 and work weekends as well left her alone and lonely. He regretted that, but he didn't think he could change...even if might want to.
Jett stepped under the blast of warm water and squeezed his eyes shut. His heart hurt. He had to be the sensible one. He would have to find the strength to tell her the marriage just couldn't last.
He rubbed at the ache in the middle of his chest. Yes, he'd end things, but not yet. He needed a little more time.
The phone rang beside the bed and jerked Valerie from a very pleasant dream. Annoyed, she rolled toward the opposite side, sadly aware that the sheets were cold and that Jett must have left a while ago. She slitted her eyes open and snagged the receiver. "Hello," she said sleepily.
"I had to go out of town on an emergency last night. My sister had a heart attack," Abigail abruptly informed Valerie.
Although they weren't and never would be anything close to friends, Valerie said, "I'm sorry. Is she all right?"
"She'll need my help this week." Abigail hesitated and then said as if the very idea were distasteful to her, "You'll need to cover for me at the office."
Valerie sat up in bed, the covers sliding down her naked body. She was deliciously sore in places due to her husband's diligent efforts with her over the weekend. She was sure they were making progress, but she had to be careful with him. Not push him. Pushing him had gotten her a blessedly short experience once again with his belt. So this didn't sound good at all.
"There are lots of temp agencies--"
"Why pay extra money out when you are available. Try to be there no later than nine o'clock. I'll let Aaron know."
"But..." Valerie's protest died away as she heard the sharp sound of disconnection.
A glance at the bedside clock on the nightstand told her it was only seven. Did Abigail really think it would take her two hours to pull herself together and get to the office? Why was she even concerned with that? What irritated her even more was that the woman--like Jett himself, and his partners--thought she had nothing better to do with her time. But then she still hadn't told any of them, especially Jett, about her new career. Her real career. A career that could disappear if she didn't get those promised projects finished soon, and make more progress on the new paintings for her two upcoming showings.
She so did not have time for acting as receptionist at the office! Besides that, Jett would not like her being there. He'd probably see it as her pushing herself more into his life. No, the idea was seriously bad.
The phone rang again. She climbed off the bed, now fully awake and frustrated, and grabbed the receiver. Before she could even respond, Aaron said, "Abigail just told me you'd be helping out at the office this week. I wanted to let you know that I'm fine wit
h it."
"I--"
"Look, I've got a breakfast meeting outside the office in about a half hour. I don't have time to talk. Can you be there by eight? All of the partners will be out until ten or so, but it would be good if the office was open." Then he hung up, assuming she was good with everything he'd said.
Valerie wasn't good with everything, at all. Still, she found herself rushing around and getting ready for what could be a disastrous day.
Jett's eyes burned, gritty from lack of sleep. It had been a struggle to focus on the early meeting, and even more so after that on the meeting at another client's office. Pulling into his parking spot several hours later, he considered just going home and crashing. He wouldn't do it, of course. Partly because he had a nightmarish line-up of meetings scheduled and hours of work to deal with as well. And partly because he wasn't ready to face Valerie again. Thoughts of her had drifted through his mind during both of the early meetings. He just couldn't stop thinking about his wife. He couldn't stop going back and forth on his decision to finally end the marriage he felt certain was doomed.
He climbed out of the car, pulling his briefcase with him. It wasn't like him to be indecisive. But this was a complicated situation. Legally they were still married, physically, too. Physically they were perfect together. Emotionally they were separated, more so on his part than hers. He knew she was really trying to set things right between them. She had even gone so far as to act out a few of his fantasies--and he sure had enjoyed that! But terrific sex, enjoyable games, even respect for one another weren't enough for a good marriage.
They make a damn good base, though. An inner voice reminded him.
Lost in thought, he strode across the parking lot and into the building. Alone in the elevator he had more time to think. What it came down to was he'd been hurt, didn't like being hurt, and didn't want to chance it again. If Valerie stayed around much longer--settled more into his life, the pain when she left just might kill him. Hence the need to end things quickly.
Can you really do that? Walk into the house tonight, tell her to pack, tell her the marriage is done?
That idea nearly buckled his knees. The finality of it all.
Stepping out of the elevator, he felt numb as he headed for the doors to their office suite. His personal life was such a mess. The practice was busy now with more clients than ever before, demanding clients. He did not have time for splitting his focus in too many directions. Why couldn't Valerie have just stayed away? He'd signed the damn divorce papers; he'd adjusted. Sort of.
Seeing her dump those shredded papers on your desk hadn't been a relief? Having her move back into your house didn't secretly please you? Sinking into her warm, welcoming body almost nightly lately hasn't been good? He was really getting tired of that inner voice. He had made the sensible decision and needed to follow through with it. Soon.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Jett questioned, frowning as he gaped at Valerie seated in Abigail's chair.
Rolling her eyes at him, Valerie held the phone to one ear and pointed to it. She watched him sit his briefcase in one of the black leather reception area chairs. His shoulders were rigid with tension; his jaw clenched. He waited--not patiently by any means--until she finished with the caller. Before he could speak again, she said, "Abigail called me early this morning and basically told me that I had to fill in for her this week."
Aaron approached from the hallway and quickly inserted, "I called Valerie, too, Jett. Right after Abigail explained to me that she went to her sister's in Arizona. Evidently her sister had a heart attack Saturday."
"Anyone ever hear of temp agencies?" Jett asked, not sounding one bit calmer.
Valerie shoved back her chair and stood. She had been sure this was a bad idea, and she'd been right. "So call one."
"Now, Valerie..." Aaron tried to intervene, but she glared him to silence.
"Don't 'now, Valerie' me, Aaron Shelby. I knew this would be a mistake. I tried to tell Abigail the same thing. But she was all 'why waste money when I didn't have anything better to do.'" She nailed Aaron with a pointed look. "And you were almost as bad when you called. You just assumed I would drop everything to help out here." She looked from him to Jett. "Both of you seem to think I have nothing to do. Well, you're wrong!"
Finally Jett stepped into the conversation again. "Abigail is always watching our financial back, which is a good thing most of the time. But I don't happen to think this is one of the times." He didn't even pick up on her having nothing to do comment.
She was tired of being seen as the bad guy in this situation, tired of being seen as the only one who had lost faith in their marriage. She was just plain tired. And she hadn't liked Jett walking into the office and immediately yelling at her. Phooey with them all.
She bent down to reach under the desk for her purse. "Fine. You answer the damn phones. Type up your own damn letters. Do your own damn mail. Do it all. I don't care."
Aaron was blinking in shock like an owl. He started edging away, mumbling, "I'll just go back to my office and let you two work this out."
Jett remained silent until they heard Aaron's office door close. His eyes had darkened with his anger. He was not going to intimidate her this time.
She straightened and stiffened her shoulders, but she lowered her voice to hiss, "Just get that I'm going to spank you look out of your eyes. It's not happening, not here, not now. I'm not the one in the wrong here, except maybe for using your hated damn word too much."
His disapproving expression didn't change. "You're right; this is the wrong place and the wrong time for me to burn your bottom. But it will happen, Valerie Anne, be certain about that."
"Oooohhhh, you're impossible!" She stomped around the desk to head for the file room to get her coat.
Jett grabbed her arm first and pulled her to a stop. "Okay, I apologize." It didn't sound like he meant any such thing.
"Well, don't beat yourself up about yelling at me for no good reason." She jerked her arm free. "I was just doing you and your partners a favor. I repeat, I do have other things to do."
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a second, in the way he sometimes did when he was trying to calm down. When he looked at her again, his expression was wary instead of angry. "Like what?"
She wasn't in the mood for this anymore. "If I really thought you cared, I'd tell you. But you don't care what interests me. You never have. The world revolves around Jett Hart, at least your world does."
He looked taken aback, almost sorry. After a second, he said, "I never meant for you to think that way. I just... I'm not good at this relationship stuff. And now everything is so strained between us."
"Not everything," she countered, calmer but still hurt by his attitude. "Just everything outside of the bedroom. You don't seem to have any problem with me at all when you're in the mood for sex."
His brow furrowed in disapproval. "That's pretty crude."
She shrugged. "It's the truth."
The phone rang and she ignored it, letting the line ring again and again. He appeared stunned that she just stood there, until he finally said, "Answer the damn phone."
She shook her head. "I don't work here. You made that pretty clear a few minutes ago. Answer it yourself."
He scrambled around her, a vein pulsing wildly in his neck. "Hart, Shelby and Wilson. Can I help you?" He hadn't bellowed the question, but it came close.
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, Mrs. Hathaway." He looked at Valerie in uncertainty. "Yes, she's right here. I'll get her for you." He put the call on hold. "Evidently she has already spoken with you once this morning. She would rather not talk to me, she very pointedly just told me."
Valerie found it amusing, but bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. But she made no move toward answering the phone.
"I said I was sorry," Jett prodded. The look he gave her warned her that if she made him beg now, a discussion later would not be pleasant.
She remained silent, unmoving, sealing her
fate later but unconcerned.
Through nearly gritted teeth, he pressed, "Please be our receptionist. For today at least."
Certain that was the best she would get from him, she smiled and took her chair again. Still smiling at him, she picked up the receiver. "Hello again, Martha...Yes, Mr. Hart has a bit of an attitude today...Sure, I'll re-schedule your appointment with him for another day...Yes, we'll hope he's in a better mood tomorrow."
"You're pushing me, Valerie Anne." Jett picked up his briefcase. "Like you did last Friday."
Okay, that made her mad and careless again. "Oh, when I forced you to have sex with me for the first time since I came back? You're really a piece of work, Jett Hart."
He sucked in a breath and, thankfully, the phone rang again. She answered amazingly calm, as he all but stomped down the hall to his office. From the way things were going, when he got through with her tonight, she'd be lucky to sit comfortably sometime next month. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she'd get spanked, even if she'd only partially earned it. Sometimes, though, she endured his need to spank her just for his good. She considered it her 'a wife's got to do, what a wife's got to do' duty. Sort of like his motto that he'd told her on numerous occasions: 'A husband's got to do, what a husband's got to do.' Or, by Jett's definition, spank his wife when he felt it necessary.
Jett was enormously relieved when Valerie stopped by his office at five o'clock to tell him she was leaving for the day. He had been watching the clock all day, waiting for this time. He had to admit that she had done an amazing job as their receptionist. Not that he'd been gracious enough to tell her that. Stupid pride thing. Aaron had told her, though. He had even heard Tom almost reluctantly thank her for helping them out today. And before his partners had left earlier, they'd each--separately--asked him to see if she would finish the week here. Neither of them had been excited about having to put up with a temp who would end up asking endless questions on procedures. Valerie already knew the partners and what they liked, and she knew how the firm operated. He had only told them he would consider it.
