Chapter 20

Tess stood by the window without seeing what lay beyond it. She did not want to sit. Her backside still burned. And she had the sense that the worst was yet to come. It was not a feeling, really. It was certainty. She would rather take another beating than be forced among people. It did not matter that she had no idea how many there would be or what they would be like. Aiden was simply forcing her into it without mercy, and that alone felt wrong. Her chest rose and fell too quickly. Her fingers twisted nervously in a piece of the skirt of the evening gown she wore, a dress she was not used to at all.

When the door opened, Tess jumped, then turned at once toward Aiden. He wore a dark blue suit, his silk waistcoat gleaming, his dark hair smoothed back. He was the very image of aristocratic strength and elegance. Every fold of cloth, every step, every glance underscored someone no one defied. He ran his gaze over her as well. He knew exactly why she was standing. He felt no regret. Without a word, he met her eyes and offered his open hand. Not cruelly. Not sternly. Simply calm, certain, allowing no room for any outcome other than the one he had chosen. She placed her hand in his and let herself be led from the room and straight down the stairs. Her stomach clenched painfully. She tried to slow her breathing and failed. The doors to the salon stood open, and already she could hear the piano music drifting out. Unobtrusive. Precise. Perfect. So gentle it reached her even through the haze of panic. And it sounded strangely familiar. The corridor itself lay quiet, their steps muted by the carpet, each one to Tess like the tapping out of a sentence.

Aiden said nothing. He did not regret the spanking he had given her. The kitty had turned into a feral, furious cat, and he had needed to bring her back under control. But what he was doing to her now truly hurt him. Through her hand in his, he felt how wildly her heart raced with fear. Forcing her among people was brutally cruel. Yet he had no other choice. She had already formed her judgment. He could try to persuade her from dawn to dusk, plead, or strike her. She had already found him guilty. His options in that chamber were spent. Only seeing it for herself could convince her now. He could keep the wild creature obedient by strength alone, but that was not enough. He wanted his velvet, affectionate kitty back. And he was certain she wanted it too. The price was a quarter hour of her mad terror. In that moment, he hated himself.