The Heartwood Box: A Fairy Tale (32 page)

When hunger and emotional exhaustion finally caused her to sink into a kind of half
-
sleep, she was assailed by strange images of Derek standing before the great desk in the study, flicking that wicked crop of Damian’s, thinking to take her to task for some misdeed while she spat at him, relishing his explosion…
.

She slept long and hard
and would have slept longer, but some instinct managed to penetrate the thick blanket of slumber to warn her she wasn’t alone
.

She je
rked her eyes open to see Derek, silently
removing each weapon
and
carefully cleaning it before putting it away
.
Even from the cot, she caught
an
aroma of sulfur
and knew he was fresh from the battlefield
.

His weapons stowed, he began to undress
.
He removed his jacket and then gingerly removed his shirt, revealing a long bloody gash,
which
stretched from his chest half way around his back
.

“You’re wounded!” she said, jumping up, only to be held in check by the chain
.
“Let me help you, Derek.” 

Unfortunately, she’d not counted on the effects of hunger combined with standing too quickly
.
She swayed dizzily and might have fallen but for his arm gripping hers
.

“You’re dizzy!  When did you last eat?” 
Derek demanded furiously
.
When she didn’t answer right away, he shook her
.
“Answer me now, Genevieve!” 

“Yesterday… morning I think,” she said through her teeth, all worry over his wound evaporating like mist under a scorching sun
.

Derek clenched his hands, breathing in and out as if to keep control
.
“You disobey me at every turn
.
Genevieve, have you any idea…
.
What use is my staying away if the moment I return you begin baiting me?” 

“
I
am baiting
you
?” she choked incredulously.

“From the day you met me!  Did you think I would not react?”

Genevieve let out a loud wail as she picked up
her boots and threw them at him
and then threw herself, pounding him with he
r
fists.

Derek caught her hands
and cuffed them together
behind her back
.
He sat on the cot
and pulled her
over his lap, flipping
up her dress
.
He
delivered five sharp slaps and then forced her to her knees, tightening the chain until she
couldn’t move at all from her spot
.

“Now you will stay!  If you provoke me further, Genevieve, I will give
you
a real spanking, and this time I won’t go ea
sy on you!”

Her rear end burning brutally, Genevieve sobbed silently
.
It shouldn’t be possible for another person to make her this angry
.
Even during the worst moments over the last four years, she’d never actually had an argument
.
Her parents were
as far from irascible as human
beings could be
.
The closest either of them got to anger was a mild querulousness
,
her mother when someone tracked mud in the house, her father when he misplaced his pipe
.
Watching Derek’s awkward attempts to bandage the gaping
claw mark
on his back, she shuddered from helpless rage.

When Derek finished his treatment, he went behind the alcove
.
She could hear sounds of splashing
.
The crying had left her desperately thirsty as well as dizzy from hunger, but she would rather expire than ask Derek for anything
.

He
emerged his hair damp, all traces of blood gone
.
The washing seemed to have calmed him slightly
.
Genevieve tried not to stare, but
he’d not put on a shirt, and
she found herself riveted by the sight of his broad shoulders and the sharply defined muscles of his arms and chest
.

He caught her staring and snarled, “You’re about to collapse.”

He pulled out mor
e packages from the saddle
bags
and unwrapped a sandwich, using a knife to cut it into small pi
eces
.
He knelt in front of her
and held a piece to her lips
.
Of course it was tongue
.

It was all too much
.

“Please Derek,” she sobbed pathetically
.
“Please
,
can I have something else
?
” 

He held her chin forcing her to meet his gaze
.
He nodded very deliberately, conveying that she’d chosen the right approach.

“I’ll give you something else if you promise to answer my questions
—
truthfully.” 

She nodded, past caring what she was agreeing to
.
He put the sandwich aside and went to the shelves and spent some time opening the tins and jars there
.
He returned with a plate piled high with stewed fruit, biscuits, nuts, and strips of dried beef
.
“Every bite, Genevieve
.
Don’t test me again.” 

Too hungry to fight, Genevieve obediently ate every bite he fed her, gratefully drinking down the glass of water he offered
.
He was utterly intent, watching everything, but communicating almost nothing
.

When she
finished, he stroked her cheek almost… tenderly
.
It was the first kind gesture she’d had from him
.
S
he feared she was dangerously close to hysteria
.

He didn’t take his eyes of
f
of her as he quickly devoured th
at
cursed sandwich
.
Once he’d eaten, he cleaned up the
remains of their meal
and then sat down on the cot, making no move to free her
.
“Tell me why Damian chained you
to the bed,” he said softly.

Of course he would ask that!  But she’d given her word to answer his questions
.
“He showed me around
the prison that is my new home
and informed me that I was not permitted to leave the house unless one of you is with me
.
W
hen I protested, he tied me to the bed
.”

“You vowed at
Titania’s
A
ltar to obey
him
.
”

“So I am to have no freedom whatsoever
?
”

“You will have as
much as he chooses to grant you
and no more
.
Be thankful Damian is so lenient with you.” 

“Lenient!” 

“If you were my wife, you’d
never
leave the house but on Titania’s feast day,” he growled
.

“You’re not serious!” she protested.

He came closer
until he was kneeling in front of her
.
That savage, hungry expression was back
.
“I am completely serious
.
If you were mine, then you belong in my house
.
I prefer you to remain
—
that is all you need to know.”

“That’s absurd,” she said breathlessly
.
How could such outrageous words cast such a spell?

“Genevieve, so help me, if you were mine, you would know every second of every day that my will is yours
.
I would not tolerate any hesitation, any arguments from you
.
If you disobeyed me, I would tie you down and spank you until we both were sure the disobedience would never be repeated
.
If you were difficult over your eating, you would take
your
meal
s
on your knees, blindfolded, with your hands bound behind your back.” 

“I would leave you
—
I’d never let anyone treat me like that.”

“You say that, Genevieve, but it’s not true
.
You can’t hide from me
.
I know my words excite you
—
just like I know those cuffs you’re wearing came from your
heartwood
box.” 

“What are you talking about?”
she
demanded
, becoming alarmed
.

“They are Fae-made
—
the workmanship is unmistakable
.
They could only have come from your box
.
Did you try to remove them
despite being forbidden
?
Answer!” 

“Yes
,
”
s
he said through gritted teeth.

“Wise of you not to lie
.
They have been specially charmed so the wearer cannot remove them
.
If you know the trick, it takes but a second to lock or unlock them, but if you don’t, they are virtually unbreakable
.
They also make it obvious when someone has tried to tamper with them
.
You can wear them comfortably for days, with no risk of chafing, and at any time, the rings can be locked together if you misbehave
.
They are the perfect restraint
,
and they appeared in your
heartwood
box
.
Have you guessed why?” 

“No!” 

“The answer is: they were in your box because
one of the
deepest wish
es
of your heart
is
to be
bound by your husband
.” 

“It’s not true, you bastard!” 

“I’ve warned you, and yet you continue to provoke me
.
You clearly
wish for me to discipline you
.
N
o doubt I would find something in your box to satisfy your need
.
I can think of many possibil
ities: a wooden paddle
?
A hair
brush
?
A
leather strap
?
No
?
Perhaps a
riding crop then?”  H
e clearly noticed some reaction
because he seized on it immediately
.
“You’ve fantasized about a riding crop
?
I can think of many things I could do with that
—
do you want me to tell you about them?”

“No!”
s
he
cried out
.

“
Shhh
, eas
y, little one.”  He came closer
and kissed her forehead comfortingly
.
“Your box turned black
—
these desires are part of you
.
You need to stop fearing them
—
or feeling ashamed that you have them
.
You promised to answer truthfully
.
You are no liar, Genevieve, so don’t lie to me now
.
Do you want me to tell you what I would do with the crop?” 

His voice was so gentle, she couldn’t fight him. “Yes.”

“Good girl
.
A riding crop does not work well for regular discipline
—
for that I would use a paddle
.
A crop is
a very sensuous tool, as effective at giving pleasure as pain
.
Nothing works better for interrogation
.
If I wished to use a crop on
you, I would have you standing
n
aked
in the middle of the room, your hands bound and stretched tightly above your he
ad, your ankles cuffed to a bar
to keep your legs apart.”