Page 8 of His to Keep
“How do you think?”
I purse my lips. “He’s a spy.”
“Yep.”
“He works for you?”
Gio shakes his head.
“Then who does he work for?” I ask.
“Who do you think he works for?”
I draw in a deep breath to get my rapidly fraying temper in check. Getting information out of this man is a painful process. He’s doing what Jasmine Henry did last night, testing to see if I’m able to work things out for myself. I find it a little condescending, but I guess he wants to see how much knowledge I have of the world we live in. It doesn’t take me longto figure out who’s most likely to have planted someone in the Drummond organization.
“Niamh Donnelly.” I smile to myself as Gio nods in confirmation. Niamh and my oldest brother were friends, and I often wondered if she was the reason he refused to marry Cara Drummond.
“I’m impressed,” Gio says.
“Don’t be. It doesn’t take a lot of skill to listen at doors when your brothers are talking about the people they do business with.” Though I’ve picked up a few snippets of information during my time as Jason’s captive, almost everything I know about the Scottish underworld comes from eavesdropping on Jamie and Alexander.
Gio shrugs again. “Takes skill not to get caught. My four big brothers used to say all sorts of shit when they thought I wasn’t listening, but if they discovered I was eavesdropping, they beat the hell out of me.”
“You have four older brothers?”
“Yes, and a younger sister.”
“I had two brothers and two sisters.” I swallow hard, blinking back tears. Though I’ve thought about them every day for the past four years, I’ve rarely spoken about my family. “I was the youngest.”
“I know.” Gio shoots me a sympathetic look. “But we’re getting off track. I need to punish you for your recklessness.”
“I beg your pardon?” My tone conveys my disbelief. “Punish me?”
“A quick spanking should teach you not to put yourself at risk again.”
When I went out through that window, did I somehow land in the 1800s? There is no way he just threatened to spank me. I may be young, but I’m a fully grown woman and spanking sounds like the sort of thing that should only happen between consenting adults and with strict guidelines in place.
“You can’t seriously think that… oh!”
I don’t get the chance to finish my protest. Gio grabs my wrist and drags me across the room. He takes a chair from the dining table, sits, and pulls me face down over his lap. It happens in the blink of an eye.
As I try to find my balance, my ridiculously tight dress rides up of its own accord to expose my bottom. It’s not until the cold air hits me that I remember I have nothing but a wisp of lace to preserve my modesty.
Apparently the barely there panties conceal too much for Gio’s liking, because he draws them down my legs and drops them to the floor. I’m not a prude, but lying on his lap with my bottom bared is shockingly intimate. We know nothing about each other.
“Gio, you can’t do this.”
“Of course I can. You’re mine.”
I sense no point in refuting that statement since he sounded pretty determined about it, so I focus on his intended action instead. “And that means you can abuse me?”
“It’s not abuse. It’s a reminder to think about your personal safety from now on. I can’t always be there to protect you from your own impulsiveness.”
“Why do you even care?” I huff.
“Did you miss the part about you being mine now?”
“No,” I grumble, “but I missed the part about me agreeing to be yours.”
