The Sister and the Sinner (11 page)

He adored spoiling her, because she had absolutely no expectation of any of it. Everything he showed her was new and unique - restaurants, waiters, carriage rides, everything. She had been so cloistered that he just loved watching her reactions as he gave her the world. They took a romantic carriage ride around the city, then ended up back at their hotel.

On their last day in the city, he brought her to a jewelry store. Katie said she loved the name of it as they walked in. "Tiffany. It sounds like it should be made of cotton candy or something."

There she was shown a selection of diamond rings that he was quite certain she had absolutely no idea as to the value of, but then that was his intent. He just wanted her to pick out something she liked and not to worry about what it might cost, since that was of no concern to him whatsoever.

She settled on something that was understated but wonderfully elegant, a three carat solitaire, with emeralds forming a crown around it. Mr. Tiffany himself proclaimed it a perfect choice.

It happened to be the perfect size, and J.D. couldn't help himself. He wanted to brand her as his before some other schlub happened upon her, so he slipped it onto her finger before she could say no.

Katie couldn't believe it. She could barely lift her hand for the weight of the ring, and when they got back to the room, the rest of her wardrobe was waiting for her from Madame Renaud, and she gave her husband-to-be an impromptu fashion show. She had never even dreamed of having a life like this. She would have managed, had she been forced to take a teaching position, or become a governess or nanny after Mother Agnes passed. Instead, she was here, all the way across the country, flitting between New York and Boston, wearing the latest fashions, flashing an enormous new engagement ring that was worth more than everything she'd ever owned in her life and then some, getting married shortly and in a handful of months, to discover the joy of motherhood.

She couldn't believe it.

But she didn't want to just forget about the people who were still trying to carve a life out of the wilderness in Dakota Territory.

"J.D.?"

"Yes?" He focused his attention on her, because it seemed like she was going to ask for something, and she almost never did that.

"There's something I'd like to do."

"And what would that be, my love?" he asked, taking her left hand in his and kissing her ring. "If it's within my power, we will do it."

"I never did thank you for sending me all of those things after you left. It helped me a lot. I want to continue to support the convent, if that's okay."

A huge smile broke over his face. "I think that's a wonderful idea. I think we should support the convent in particular, but also the diocese, too. How about that?"

Katie hugged him tight, and he thought it was probably the first time she'd hugged him impulsively like that. "Thank you. That would be wonderful!"

"I'll call my accountant in the morning and get that set up. Do you have a particular amount in mind that you'd like to send them every month?"

She bit her lip. "No."

"Don't worry. I'll have him figure that out. That's why we pay him."

"Thank you."

"Now. Is there a glass of milk over there that someone was supposed to drink because it's good for the baby?"

Katie sighed. "I don't think your baby likes milk. I think he'd rather I drank Irish whiskey."

"Katie!" J.D. couldn't believe she would say that, or even consider doing something as irresponsible as that.

She giggled, pointing her finger at him. "Got you!"

He managed an indulgent smile, although he wasn't particularly amused. "Drink your milk, dear one. Don't you remember what you are supposed to do when I tell you to do something?"

"Do it," she grumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"Do it," she repeated, although it came out very milky, since she had turned away from him and was finishing her glass.

When she turned back, though, he had that look in his eye. "Don't think that's going to get you out of a punishment."

"But I drank my milk!"

"Not until you were reminded to do so. Now, do I have to get the strap out of my pocket?"

"NO! You don't!"

He had begun to teach her that when he deemed a punishment was necessary, she was to remove all of her clothing and take her place over his lap without having to be prompted or assisted by him in any way. Of course, as the baby grew and her waistline vanished, rules like that could be adjusted, but for now, they remained in place.

So she was already standing next to the bed, stepping out of her stockings and underwear, her chemise and corset, and pulling the pins out of her hair, which he was happy to find was growing out very nicely.

In short order, she was lying naked over his lap, her hands clasped at the small of her back, face turned towards him, legs crossed, where she belonged.

Now came the hard part. She was required to say, "I'm ready for my punishment, Sir." But that was very hard to say, because she knew that the first stroke would land immediately after she said it. So there was absolutely no impetus to let those words tumble out of her mouth.

Except the fact that he had said the longer she waited to say them, the longer the spanking was going to be, and the higher the chance that he was going to go rummaging in his pocket for that horrid little thing he carried around with him.

He had yet to go through with the threat he always trotted out whenever he wanted to calm her down in public - that he wouldn't hesitate to chastise her with it no matter where they were - but she would not put it past him. Not in the least.

And she would never know how long was too long until he reached into his pocket.

So, with a resigned sigh, Katie said what she knew she had to say.

"I'm ready for my punishment, Sir."

The End

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