Bad Boys of London(3)

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ I ask contemptuously.

His eyebrows rise. ‘What the hell is wrong with me? You’re a thief, Layla Eden.’

My cheeks flame, but I am not giving up so easily. ‘I’m not,’ I cry hotly.

‘Then you have nothing to fear. Call your brother,’ he invites.

I bite my lip. ‘Look. I’m sorry I was in your bedroom. I’ll just go downstairs and we won’t spoil anybody else’s night, OK?’

‘OK.’

My mouth drops open at my effortless victory. I close it shut. ‘Thank you,’ I say softly and add a smile of gratitude.

‘After you admit that you stole and … I’ve punished you.’

A bark of incredulity explodes out of my mouth. ‘What?’

‘It’s only fair. You make a mistake, you pay for it.’

My eyes narrow suspiciously. I knew it. I’ve always known it. He is no friend of our family. This is the proof I have been looking for—that he is just low, low, low. He has always been low and he will always be low. Enough even to blackmail me! Perhaps he wants me to reveal some of Jake’s business secrets. ‘What kind of punishment are you talking about?’

‘You should have what you’ve never had … a spanking.’ His tone is terrifyingly pleasant.

I stare at him in disbelief. The idea is too ridiculous to contemplate. I laugh.

He doesn’t. ‘I fail to see the comedy.’

The laugh dies in my throat. ‘You can’t seriously mean to spank me?’ I ask incredulously. I feel a chill invade my body.

He raises a challenging eyebrow.

‘You seriously mean to spank me.’ I repeat stupidly.

‘The problem with you, Layla Eden, is that you were spoiled when you were young. Your Da and Jake were much too much in love with you to exercise any kind of discipline over you. As a consequence, you’ve grown up an unruly weed,’ he explains patiently.

‘How dare you—?’ I begin.

But he interrupts me coldly. ‘This is getting boring. The choice is simple: you apologize and submit to a spanking or we call your brother—or, if you prefer, your mother.’

Jake? My mother? My pseudo fury drains out of me like water from a sink plug. I worry my bottom lip and imagine my mother’s eyes dimming with humiliation, Jake staring at me without comprehension. He has given me the best of everything. When we were young and poor, my mother says Jake would always forgo his share of something if I wanted it.

My actions are inexcusable. I have thoroughly disgraced and dishonored my family. I walked into a Pilkington’s bedroom and stole something from it like a common thief. Worse of all, I have no idea why I did it. I’ve never done anything like this before. It is the stupidest, maddest thing I have ever done.

My gaze slides to his hands. They are as large as spades! My eyes jerk up to his tanned face. ‘Why do you want to do this?’

He shrugs, nonchalantly, his face giving nothing away.

‘There’s nothing in it for you,’ I insist desperately.

He smiles, an action devoid of any amusement. ‘How do you know what’s in it for me?’

My stomach sinks. I look at the space between his legs. It would be undignified, but I could try diving through it. I think I could make it, but it is almost certain that he will catch me, and that would be worse.

‘Look,’ I try to reason. ‘I’m really, really sorry I came in here. It was wrong of me to intrude on your privacy, but if you let me go now I promise I won’t tell a soul about any of this.’ I wave my hand at the room. ‘It’ll be our secret.’

‘That’s a very kind offer, but I’m afraid there are only two ways you’re leaving this room. With a spanking or,’ he holds out his mobile phone in the middle of a baseball-mitt sized palm, ‘or in your brother’s company.’

I stare at the plain black phone. Physical punishment for me, or mental anguish for both Ma and Jake. Not much of a choice. I swallow hard and meet his eyes. ‘I’ll,’ I whisper, ‘take the … punishment.’

‘Great,’ he says softly, slipping his mobile into his trouser pocket and taking a step forward. Suddenly the room seems so much smaller. Instinctively, I take a corresponding step backwards. He kicks the door shut with his heel.

‘How do we do this?’ My voice is clear and matter-of-fact. I have to assert some sort of control.

‘I’ll sit on the bed and you will position yourself on my lap. I will raise your skirt and spank you. Eight times.’

Raise my skirt! My eyes stray to his right hand. God! I feel heat creep over my body. Oh, the shame of it. And yet, to my absolute horror, there is something else sizzling in my core, something dark and hot. Something I’d never dreamed would happen to me. How could I be turned on by such a depraved, dreadful prospect? I look into his eyes. They are blank mirrors. There is nothing to see, only what I am. A thief.