Chapter Three

Joely had no way of knowing what time it was when she woke up, but she knew she was sore and uncomfortable. It was almost completely dark. The ropes were twisted round so her hands were now hard up against the bed-head, the covers were down around her waist and her back and knees hurt. She looked over to where she could see the shape of Dominic under the covers of the other bed. She’d been asleep by the time he came out of the bathroom, hadn’t seem him get into the bed. She wished she was asleep now.

She moaned as she tried to untangle her wrists. They hurt, and if she rolled around to undo the twists, she was just going to tangle herself up more in the covers. And she was itchy, on her stomach, under one arm, and between her breasts. She couldn’t remember ever being more uncomfortable in her life. She moaned again.

“What’s wrong?” Dominic asked, his deep voice sleepy.

“The rope is twisted and the covers are tangled and I’m sore and itchy and uncomfortable,” she said, sniffing.

“Well we can’t have that,” he said, pushing back the covers and climbing out of bed. He stood up and stretched. Joely couldn’t see him at all clearly, but it was obvious from his outline that he wasn’t wearing the robe. Or anything else that she could see. He crossed the short distance between the beds and assessed the damage by touch.

“Oh yes, you’ve made a real mess here,” he said. “What were you doing? An impression of a rotisserie chicken?” He untied knots, feeling through the tangles, talking as he went.

“Where are you sore?” he asked, easing one hand loose.

“My back,” she said. “And my knees.”

“I can do something about that,” he said. “There, that’s the other hand. Now let’s unwrap you.” It took some doing, with the sheet twisted around her legs and around her middle.

“Just stay like that,” he said. “I’ll be right back. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No,” she said, not sure whether she resented him asking. He walked away, and as he flicked the bathroom light on she saw a flash of tanned skin, of the side of his tall, apparently nude body. Then there was an opening and shutting of a cupboard and the light went off again.

“Right,” he said, sitting down on her bed. “This might be a bit cool, so I’ll warm it up in my hands first. Are you lying on your stomach?”

“No,” she said. She rolled. “But I am now.”
”Good,” he said. “Relax. That’s an order.” His hands settled, warm and rough on her back. She could feel calluses on his palms and wondered how he’d got them. He didn’t seem like the sort of man who performed manual labour, even though he had demonstrated his strength on several occasions during the day.

“You have calluses,” she said.

“Sorry about that,” he said, rubbing cream into the muscles on either side of her spine. “I did a lot of digging last week.”
”I don’t mind,” she said sleepily. “They feel good.” He smiled in the dark and kept massaging.
”You’re not used to work,” he remarked. “If a little floor scrubbing and strawberry picking can make you so sore.”
”No,” she said. “I’m expected to work hard at looking pretty and being a social asset, nothing else.”

“Not a lot of calluses in that sort of work,” he commented.

“No,” she said, turning her head into the pillow.

“So you have to sleep in the nude too?” she asked.

“I don’t have to, no,” he said. “But I always do anyway.” That answered that question. She said nothing.

“Does it bother you?” he asked.

“No,” she conceded. “I can’t see you.” And it wasn’t as if she’d mind if she could anyway, she admitted to herself. He was bossy and he did dreadful things to her, but he was undeniably good to look at.

His strong fingers eased the hurt out of the muscles of her back, and she barely even stirred when he continued the massage over her bottom and down the backs of her legs. She protested a little when he told her to roll over, but only because she was so comfortable. Then she sighed as she felt the soothing cream rubbed into her knees. He worked it into her thighs as well, then into her stomach and up and down her arms.

“There,” he said, putting the lid on the cream. “I’m tempted to do the rest of you too, but that’d be taking advantage.” Oddly enough, she liked knowing that he was tempted. She smiled as she rolled onto her side.

“Not so fast, Joe,” he said, pulling the covers up over her again. “I need to tie your hands again.” She whimpered, but was too tired to really put up a fight. He tied them loosely, giving her even more slack in the rope.

“There,” he said. “That should give you enough to allow you to spin around until morning.” He realised as he said it that she was already almost asleep. He brushed his fingers over her face, one fingertip trailing over her lips. Then he climbed back into his own bed and sank into sleep again.

……………..

It was embarrassing to wake up in the morning with the covers down around her hips again, and the fact that Dominic pulled them back up before he sat down on the side of the bed and untied her hands did not make it better. Joely had no way of knowing whether he’d been watching her sleep, whether he’d been taking in the view for some time before she woke up.

He had. The light of day had filtered into the room through a skylight in the ceiling, illuminating her golden hair and porcelain-doll face. Her skin was alabaster white, her breasts full, pink-tipped and tempting, her waist a sweet curve under them. He’d just about decided that she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Then, of course, she’d woken up and started complaining and ruined the image completely.

Their first argument started just after he’d give her the robe and waited for her to put it on.
”I’m going to the bathroom now,” she said. “You can stay here.” He grinned.

“Dominic!” she insisted. “I can’t go anywhere. You’re out here blocking my only escape route. Why can’t I just have some privacy to go to the toilet?”
”Because you can’t,” he said simply. “It’s the rules.”
”So bend the rules,” she said. She tried to work out a way to say what she needed to say without making it any worse. “You know you mentioned about the bran?” she asked. “And the – the thing in the cupboard in the bathroom?” He nodded, his eyes sparkling.

“Well, I don’t need it,” she said. “Now, will you stay here?” He shook his head.

“Aaaarggggh!” she said eloquently, pushing past him on her way to the bathroom. He made the mistake of laughing, and she spun round and shoved him hard, both hands on his chest. He took a step back, then stood still, unmoving as she tried to shove him again.

“It won’t work,” he said, still laughing. “I outweigh you and I’m just as stubborn as you are.” Not wasting time with words, Joely kept pushing at him, trying to move him backwards. If asked, she couldn’t have said what she was trying to achieve, but it felt good to take out some of her frustration in this way.

”What are you doing?” he asked, looking down into her face. She looked so angry, so annoyed, her smooth skin creased in a frown. He quickly raised his hand to touch it, to smooth it away. All Joely saw was a hand coming up, palm towards her, and she shrank back, cowering. Dominic froze.

“What?” he asked. Comprehension dawned. “Who’s been hitting you?” Hands at his side he took a step closer to her. “Joely,” he said. “I won’t strike you. Not across the face – not like that. I might have to take a hand or something else to your behind while you’re here, but I won’t ever hit you in anger. And neither will anyone else, I promise.” He bent down so he could look her in the eyes. “Okay?” She nodded, embarrassed at what she considered to be her own cowardice.

“Good,” he said, straightening up again. “So, who’s hit you?”
”None of your business,” she said firmly. “Let me go to the bathroom, please.” Standing back out of her way, he let her go, and for once did just what she’d asked and bent the rules. Instead of following her in, he made the beds, using the time to think. She acknowledged his consideration when she came out.

“Thank you,” she said. He nodded.

“Time for breakfast,” he said.

……………..

It was silent as always in the dinner hall, but there were lots of smiles. Obviously the monks were morning people, Joely mused. Instead of sitting at the tables to be served, everyone helped themselves to the cereals and pastries and fruit (including strawberries) that were spread out on a long table at the side of the hall.

Following Dominic, Joely picked up a bowl and scooped some cornflakes into it. He did the same, but as he was about to move on towards the milk, one of the other monks, a tall one, reached over and scooped up some tough-looking bran and tipped it on top of Dominic’s bowl. Joely looked up at Dominic, who exhaled soundlessly and looked steadily at the tall monk, who grinned broadly. His grin broadened further when another man, an older one, also leaned across and scooped some more bran onto Dominic’s plate. Joely gained the impression that if noise had been allowed, there would have been a lot of laughter going on. Dominic stepped around the two men and picked up the milk, shaking his head.

They were heading towards the table when Joely saw Daniel and Andy sitting by themselves down one end. She tugged on Dominic’s sleeve and pointed, a question in her eyes. Joely wasn’t a cruel woman, and if Andy hadn’t scared her the previous afternoon, she wouldn’t have yelled at him in the way she had. If anyone was at fault, it was Daniel, for taking her skirt off in the first place. Or Dominic, for not explaining things. But still, she felt bad about Andy. She wanted to make amends, if possible.

Dominic nodded and followed as she led the way there. She climbed over the bench seat awkwardly, trying not to spill her breakfast, and sat down beside Andy. He looked up from his breakfast, a huge bowl of cereal, and started in surprise. He began to move away from her, closer to Daniel, but Joely smiled at him and put her hand on his arm. He stopped. Then he smiled back at her, a big childish beam. Obviously Andy was not one to hold a grudge. One big hand settled on her hand, swamping it.

She looked at her breakfast, then at his hand. How was she supposed to eat left-handed? She didn’t want to drag her hand out from under his, but she needed that hand to eat. Dominic saw her dilemma and solved it for her. He leaned across her to smile at Andy, then pointedly lifted his own hand and began to stroke her hair, long, gentle touches from the crown of her head down over the shiny blonde strands to her shoulders. Andy watched with interest for a few seconds, then lifted his hand from hers and began to do the same thing.

For the rest of the breakfast, Joely was petted as if she were a kitten, Andy’s hand soft and loving on her hair. Dominic ploughed through the bran on his plate, although it was evident from his expression that he wasn’t enjoying it, a fact that provided a great deal of amusement to the monks who had joined them at this part of the table. When they finished, he stood up and took her bowl as well as his. With a smile for Andy, Joely stood up too, his hand sliding away from her hair. To her surprise, she was rewarded with a smile from Daniel as well.

She opened her mouth to start talking about it on the way back, but Dominic shook his head, exasperation in his brown-gold eyes and she remembered in time. She didn’t like it, but she waited until they were in the room.

“This silence rule is stupid!” she said heatedly.

“Yes, of course it is,” he agreed. “It’s worked for this order for three hundred years, but of course it’s wrong. Perhaps you should tell them all at lunchtime?” Rounding to face him as soon as she heard his sarcasm, she responded in kind.

“Well I would,” she said. “Except for one thing…now what is it? Oh yes… I CAN”T SPEAK TO THEM THERE!” He backed off, covering his ears and pretending to be deafened.

“You can sure yell!” he complained, grinning anyway. “That was nice what you did with Andy.”

“It wasn’t his fault what happened,” she said, making it perfectly clear with her expression whose fault she considered it to be. “And what was with the bran?” He rolled his expressive eyes.

“When I first came here as a student,” he said, talking quickly before she could interrupt. “I wasn’t all that well behaved or obedient, and I did not respond well to the regular regime they insist on in all things. I refused to eat the bran, for one thing. I hate bran. Loathe it.” His face made it clear that he was not exaggerating. “After a couple of sessions with the rubber gloves and the torture instruments in the bathroom cupboard however, I gave in and ate the damned bran.” Joely’s eyes were wide.

“You were a student here?” she asked. Dominic nodded.

“A while ago,” he admitted. “I brought myself here, for reasons I won’t go into now, and I signed away my life for three weeks. It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. It was a rude shock, I don’t mind admitting. I thought it was going to be spas and support groups, maybe a bit of housekeeping and basket-weaving and sitting around a fireplace singing boring songs. You probably thought the same thing.”
”No,” Joely responded. “I didn’t. I had no idea where my stepfather was bringing me, so I hadn’t even thought about the place.”

“You had no idea?” he asked. She shook her head. Then she grinned, her first since she’d arrived at the monastery, and Dominic saw her eyes light up for the first time.

“They gave you enemas?”

“Yes, and you can stop looking so amused by it,” he said, grinning back despite himself. “It’s uncomfortable at best and painful and humiliating at worst. It took four of them to do it, and I inflicted some pain in return. Two of them were the ones who put the bran on my cereal this morning. They’ve never left me forget it.”

“I’m glad,” she said simply, turning away to head for the bathroom.

“Oh, that’s lovely, that is,” he said. She turned back to see him standing with his hands on his hips, his eyebrows raised.

“It’s good to know that you were bullied and embarrassed too,” she added. Then, still smiling to herself, she went into the bathroom. When he followed her in, she’d opened the cupboard.

“That must have hurt,” she commented. He leaned past her and shut the cupboard door.

“Enough,” he said, but there was amusement in his voice. “I have enough of them teasing me about that without you starting. I should never have told you about it. Now, I can see that I’m going to have to work to get things back on the proper footing here. Clean your teeth and get ready to work, Joe. Now!” He injected some feeling into the last word, but the look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t totally serious yet. She dawdled for a while, enjoying herself.

When she was into her third minute of teeth cleaning she glanced up into his face again. Oops. Now he was serious.

“Spit it out or put up with the taste of toothpaste in your mouth all day,” he said warningly. She spat it out and rinsed.

“What’s on our full and packed entertainment schedule for today?” Joely asked, surprising herself with her good humour.

“Rug cleaning,” he said. “And since you stayed quiet this morning, you even get to do it with your robe on. Isn’t that nice?”

“Delightful,” she murmured as he opened the door. She followed him down the stairs to the entrance to the main hall, waited while he held the tapestry back for her and then went through. This time, instead of going to the kitchen garden, he led the way to the other side of the building, to a utility area, with drying lines strung up from fence to wall. On the ground outside the door was a pile of rugs. A huge pile.

“You can talk now,” he said as he closed the door. “Right. Now you need to string these up, beat the dust out of them with the broom and then hose them until they’re clean. You can do them one at a time or a few together if you want to.”
”Oh, how will I choose between such wondrous options?” Joely said. It helped to be sarcastic in the face of what looked to be several weeks worth of back-breaking labour. “Are you going to help me?” Catching the sarcasm germ, Dominic looked behind him as she must be talking to someone else.

“Me?” he pointed to himself. “I don’t think so. I ploughed a whole field for vegetables and I dug up the earth for that entire kitchen garden you were in yesterday. I’ve done my share, girl. Now get cracking.”

Thanks to his massage from the night before, Joely’s muscles weren’t sore or stiff, and she was able to approach the task with some enthusiasm. It lasted as long as it took for her to drag one dirty, heavy rug from the pile and throw it up over the line. Dust billowed from it, making her cough and wave her hands in front of her face.

“Oh yuck!” she exclaimed. “You have got to be joking.” She looked at Dominic through the dust. He shook his head.

“I’ll just sit here in the shade and watch,” he said. “Try not to get any of the dust over here, if you can.” She glared at him. Oh yes, it was all very funny, wasn’t it?

He appeared to find it so, particularly when the one rug she’d managed to hang up promptly fell off as soon as she approached it with the straw broom. Already annoyed, she dragged it back up off the ground again and wrestled it up over the line, positioning it more securely this time. Then she stood back, swung the broom and thumped it into it. And choked as the dust rose from it in dark billows.

“How long is it since these were cleaned?” she asked when she’d stopped coughing.

“Don’t ask me,” Dominic said, waving the dust away from himself. “Some time, I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“There are probably spores of the black plague in here,” she muttered, taking a deep breath before hitting the rug again.

It was a dirty, difficult job. The broom wasn’t heavy, but each thud of it into the thick rug reverberated up Joely’s arms to her shoulders and back, and she knocked herself off her feet with one of her swings.

“No, Joe,” Dominic said helpfully. “You’re meant to beat the rug. The rug isn’t meant to beat you.”
”Either help me or be quiet,” she said through thin lips. Her face was covered in dust, her hair was covered in dust and her once white robe was already grey. She was not in the mood for his silly attempts at humour. She climbed to her feet again, picked up the broom again and went to swing again. And stopped.

“What?” he asked. She began to chew her lip, but stopped when she tasted grit.

“Can I have some underwear?” she asked.

“Why?” he responded, obviously working his way through simple questions.

“I need some,” she replied obliquely.
”No you don’t,” he said. “You’re covered respectably. Look at you. You’re covered from neck to ankle.”
”Not respectably,” she countered, leaning on the broom. “The material is thick but it doesn’t…” Oh damn him. “It doesn’t offer any support.”

“Suppor…ohhh,” comprehension dawned, and he grinned. “Well, based on what I’ve seen, you don’t need anything in the way of support.”

“I will if I keep doing this!” she protested, relieved that he’d got the gist of it, but embarrassed anyway.

“How old are you?” Dominic asked. “Twenty-four? You can start worrying in ten years time, girl. Or maybe twenty. But I tell you what. I’ll conduct regular checks throughout the day to make sure that there’s no hint of sagging. There, you can’t do any better than that.” Joely narrowed her blue eyes at him. His grin had a very mischievous quality to it.

“Don’t bother,” she said through clenched, gritty teeth.

“Oh, no bother,” he said cheerfully. She made a point of turning her back on him. If he came near her, she was going to brain him with the broom. On that thought, she went back to beating the rug.

She swung the broom again. And again. And again, until her eyes were gritty, her hands were sweaty on the handle and she could taste the accumulated dust of decades – possibly centuries. The beating should have been the worst of it, but it wasn’t. The hose was powerful, but it had some leaks near the nozzle, and by the time the water was running clear from the first rug, Joely was not only filthy, she was also soaked through.

By mid-morning, she was beyond complaint and out of energy and patience. She looked over to where Dominic was seated on the ground, his arms wrapped around his knees. She prepared to launch into a diatribe, and to hell with the consequences. As she opened her mouth to speak, the door opened behind him and Daniel and Andy worked out. Oh damn, she thought.

“Good men,” Dominic said, standing up. “I won’t be long.” With a quick backward look at the wet, bedraggled creature wielding the broom behind him, he walked off, smiling to himself. He figured she was ready to crack any minute now. Daniel, not being silly, positioned himself exactly where Dominic had been. Andy walked forward, smiling.

“Hello Andy,” Joely said. She didn’t want to speak to Daniel. He’d taken her skirt off her the day before and seen her naked. That put him in the “to be killed later” category, as far as she was concerned, despite his nice smile at breakfast. She didn’t extend the death sentence to Andy, however. He was reaching out for her hair now, but a look of consternation crossed his big, open face as he found it to be dirty and unpleasant.

“My sentiments exactly,” she sympathised, touching it too. “It’s disgusting, isn’t it? All of me is, Andy.” He stood there, looking unsure.
”You don’t have to fuss about your appearance here, child,” Daniel said. “It’s not an important thing to us.”
”It’s my health I’m concerned about,” she responded, not wanting to be guilty of ignoring him and being rude again. “You might like to step back, Andy. The dust really pours out of these rugs.” Daniel called Andy back and he took a few steps, but not enough to prevent him from being caught in the dust cloud. He coughed, spluttered, and then laughed, brushing the dust off his face and robes.

“It’s funny the first hundred times,” Joely muttered, lying. Her shoulders hurt, her arms hurt, her neck hurt and her vanity was in agony. She knew she had never looked so dreadful in her life. She kept thumping the rug solidly for the next ten minutes, determined not to weaken in front of Daniel. Andy laughed every now and then. The door opened and Dominic came back, looking handsome, amused and clean. Joely sent him a look laced with venom. He caught it and turned away to stifle a grin.

“Thanks, Daniel,” he said. “My kidneys thank you, too.” The old monk smiled and called Andy away, and they disappeared through the door.

“You’re a right mess, Joe,” Dominic observed once the door was closed.

“Oh really? And here I was thinking that dust and mud went so well with my colouring,” she responded. “Bastard,” she said under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked. She didn’t bother repeating herself. She just imagined that the rug she was beating had dark, shoulder-length hair, was tall, built like a swimmer, and had annoyingly gorgeous gold-brown eyes. And a cleft in its chin. She hit the rug so hard that it bounced back and knocked her off her feet again. Which just put the seal on things, as far as she was concerned. She thumped her hands down on the ground. Then she realised that Dominic was laughing and she looked up, her blue eyes shooting six kinds of murder his way.

“Strip off, Joe,” he said. “That robe is filthy.”
”I will not,” she said, not bothering to get up.
”Yeah, you will,” he corrected, still grinning. “You’ll either do it yourself or have it done for you, but it’s coming off.” He moved towards her, confident, cocky and, damn him…clean, and Joely lost the last shreds of her temper and restraint.

She dived for the hose, swivelled the nozzle and aimed it at him. She caught him right in the chest before he could move and she shifted it around, drenching him from head to foot, laughing as he turned away from the stream that was now hitting him straight in the face. It felt good to laugh. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long, because he kept coming, and even though she did her best with the hose, aiming it at his groin, then, when that didn’t seem to work, at his eyes, he reached down and wrenched it from her grasp, turning it off and standing above her, dripping.

“Oh, are you going to get it now,” he said, sounding dangerous. Joely looked up at him, at his hair plastered to his head, his robe heavy with water, drops dripping off his thick eyelashes, his nose, his chin, and decided it was worth it. She kept trying to tell herself that as he reached down again, took a firm hold of each of her shoulders and dragged her to her feet.

“When I told you to strip off, I was planning to give you another robe,” he said through tight, wet lips. “It’s just inside the door. I brought it back with me. Want to hazard a guess at what chance you have of getting it now?” Joely spared a thought for what a clean robe would have felt like. Then she looked down at her dirty, wet body and decided that it didn’t matter.

“I don’t care,” she said. “I’ve had enough.”
”You’ve barely started,” Dominic said. “And speaking of bare.” He gave her no warning, he just shifted his grip from her shoulders to the neck of her robe, hooked his fingers in and ripped. Joely shrieked as he bent down and kept ripping, all the way to the hem of the robe. Then he peeled it off her, tugging it out of her grip when she tried to hold onto it. He crumpled it up in his hand and threw it behind him, where it landed with a wet thud.

“See?” he said. “I told you it was going to happen.”

Joely folded herself double, her arms going across herself again. Dear heaven, she was naked again – outside, in front of this man and who knows how many others who were going to take it into their heads to wander out to see what all the yelling and laughing had been about.

“Give me the robe,” she said to him. She bit back the demand and tried again. “Please give me the robe.” He shook his head.

“Not now,” he said calmly. His skin shone with the water she’d shot at him, his eyes looked more golden against the background of the dark hair hanging around them. “And I’m not going to give it back at all if you don’t do what you’re told.”
”I’ve been doing what I was told!” she responded, stung. “I’ve beat rugs and hosed them and cleaned them for hours.”
”And you were doing a good job, too,” he said. “Until you went off the rails, refused to follow an order and then assaulted me with a garden hose.” A slight shake in his voice told her that he did see the funny side in it, even if he wasn’t going to acknowledge it.

“I don’t get any points for the hard work?” she tried. He nodded.

“You do,” he said. “Because of that, I’m going to deliver your punishment right here, rather than in the dinner hall in front of everyone. Unless you push me, Joe. Now, stand up straight.” Telling herself that he’d seen all of her before, that whatever he was going to do had to be better than him doing it in front of everyone, she stood up straight, her arms still across her.

“Put your hands on your head,” he said.

“No,” she said automatically. He rolled his eyes.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself,” he pointed out. “Every time you say no, I’m going to add five minutes, Joe. And my patience will run out soon and I’ll just decide to go with the public punishment instead.” Eyes molten with fury, Joely turned half away from him, putting her hands on her head.

“There, was that so hard?” he asked, knowing the answer. He put his hands on her elbows and turned her back to face him, his gaze travelling down over her wet, dirt-streaked body while she squirmed.

“So…where are you ticklish apart from your bum?” he asked. If it weren’t for his hands on her elbows, she would have had her arms down immediately. As it was, she tried to pull free of his firm grasp.

“No!” she said. “Dominic, you can’t tickle me.”
”Sure I can,” he said. “All I have to do is move my fingertips around on your skin. Here, let me show you.” He grinned as she tried to pull away again. Then he controlled his amusement.

“Joe, you either stand here and let me do it, or you get tied naked in the dinner hall in front of over a hundred men and I do it there. There are hooks hanging from one of the beams that run over that raised platform at the end of the tables, and they’re just perfect for tying people up.”

The image was just too horrible to even allow into her mind’s eyes, but she found it impossible to banish. It was like trying not to visualise a pink elephant.

“How long will you tickle me for?” she asked.

“As long as I think is necessary,” he responded obliquely. “How long do you think I should tickle you for?”
”Ten seconds,” she fired back at him. “Or five. Five would be better.” He laughed.

“And that’s why I’m the tutor,” he said. “Move your feet apart, plant them on the ground, and don’t even think about shifting them until I tell you to. And keep your hands on your head, well clear of all of that wet body of yours. And all of those interesting bits.” With mischief in his eyes, he stepped back while she moved into the specified position.

“Lovely,” he said appreciatively. “Elbows back a little more. Feet a little further apart. Good. Now Joe, if you move from that position, we take this to the dinner hall, remember?” Her breath was coming in short gasps. She really hated being tickled. And she really, really hated standing naked in front of him like this, everything exposed, stretched and waiting.

“Just do it,” she said.

“The Nike approach to tickling?” he quipped. Then he stepped forward, reached out and caught her sides as she flinched. “Soft skin,” he said again. “Even if it is slippery.” And then he began.

There wasn’t much of her that escaped his attention, his fingertips dipping into her armpits, across her breasts, along her ribs, over her belly and down the inside of her legs. There was nothing erotic about the way he touched her, but it was irritatingly thorough. He played up and down her back and bottom like there was a keyboard there, and he gave special attention to behind her knees. Only between her legs and the soles of her feet were spared, because there was no way she could have kept still while standing on one foot. For this she should have been grateful, because her feet were very ticklish, but Joely was not in the mood to thank anyone for small mercies. Or in any state to.

She was a quivering, giggling, miserable mess. He’d tickled her into discomfort within seconds of starting, and it took every bit of willpower she had to stay there under the onslaught of his long, wicked fingers. It wasn’t helped by the fact that he laughed as he did it, looking right into her eyes when he wasn’t focusing on other “interesting bits” as he’d described them. He was obviously appreciating the struggle that she was fighting with herself to keep still almost as much as he was appreciating the helpless squirming of her nude body.

Gasping for breath as his fingers tickled up the inside of her splayed thighs, she managed to speak.

“I’ll wet myself!” she said, her entire body shaking by now. “Dominic, stop it!” He took his hands away.

“You can wet yourself,” he said. “We’re outside, it doesn’t matter. And the ground is wet enough as it is.”
”It matters to me!” she said. “Please, no more.” She had tears running down her face, but they were from the continual forced laughter, not from the rage she was feeling. Her whole body felt squirmy and over-sensitised.

Dominic was silent, considering it. He looked her over, from her tear-streaked face, down over her heaving chest, her nipples hard from his tickling attentions, past her concave belly to the damp wisps of golden hair and down to where her feet were still firmly positioned exactly where he’d told her to put them. After almost seven minutes of solid tickling, that wasn’t bad, he decided.

“All right,” he said. “But if I have to punish you again, I’ll double the time, Joe. Keep that in mind. You can move.” She lowered her arms, surprised at how sore they were, covered herself and stepped round him to go for her ripped, discarded robe.

“No,” he said, an arm across her middle. “I haven’t finished looking at you yet.” She gave a snort of disgust.

“You’ve had your hands all over me,” she protested.

“And I enjoyed every minute of it,” he assured her.

“I didn’t,” she muttered. He grinned.

“But you seemed to having such a good time,” he teased. “Laughing your head off, you were.”

She looked at the hose.

“I wouldn’t,” he warned, seeing where she was looking. Gritting her teeth, she looked away from it.

“Can I have the spare robe now?” she forced herself to ask. “So I can get on with the cleaning?”
”You can get on with the cleaning without it,” he said, his mouth twisting at her sound of protest. Then, to really finish it off, he leaned forward and cupped her breasts in his hands before she could step back. They were slippery and heavy, and gone from his grasp almost at once as she leapt back.

“Doing fine without support there,” he commented, and he backed off before she could act on the impulse he saw in her eyes. She got it under control, picked up the broom and turned her back on him. For the next twenty minutes, the rug suffered a horrible death.

“I really do need to go the bathroom,” she said, reluctant to pick up the hose in case its watery noises would inspire her to disgrace herself.
”I’m not surprised,” Dominic said from his corner. “It’s been hours. Pick a spot and go.” Joely spun to face him for the first time since he’d handled her breasts.

“I will not!” she protested, not sure whether she was relieved or infuriated to see him grin.

“I was joking,” he said, grinning. “Come on, grub. I’ll take you up to the room.”

…………….

It was not a pleasant walk. For a start, Joely was already wet and miserable, and not at all inclined to forgive Dominic for the tickling. Added to that, she really did need to go to the bathroom. Finishing it off nicely was the fact that several monks were gathered in the main hall and that she had to walk right through the middle of them to get to the stairs. Again, as soon as she saw them, she tried to turn round and go back, and again, Dominic blocked her. He cupped her face with one hand, looked down into her eyes and smiled. He meant it to be encouraging, but she took it as gloating, and oddly enough, it gave her the courage to walk forward, arms over her body, right through the middle of the men and beyond, to the tapestry. She felt the weight of the observation of the quiet men as heavily as if they’d all wolf-whistled her.

Dominic, following closely enough to obscure the view of the back of her, scored a number of interesting looks at his own appearance, sopping wet as he was. His robe left a wet trail across the floor. If he had any sense, he’d make her clean it up later, he thought to himself.

Joely’s courage had carried her as far as the stairs, but once beyond the tapestry, it deserted her and she raced up them, determined to get to the relative privacy of the room as quickly as possible. Concerned that she’d slip on her wet feet, Dominic took off after her, but he was hampered by the wet robe, while she was unencumbered by anything. Embarrassment and desperation added speed to her feet, and he only caught her in the last hallway. She yelped as his arm came around her waist, pulling her up against him as he slowed.

“You idiot!” she screamed. “I need to go to the bath…” She quietened as she looked up and saw the worst possible person walking down the hallway. Bernard. He stopped, looked at her, then at Dominic, taking in his wet hair and robes, her nudity. Then he shook his head and held up three fingers to Dominic, who hesitated, then nodded. Bernard walked on, passing them without another look.

Dominic walked, his arm still around her, to the door and opened it, pushing her in.

“Go to the bathroom,” he said, his voice steady and expressionless. Oddly enough, some of the need had passed now, in reaction to what she’d seen on Bernard’s face. She went anyway, surprised when he didn’t follow her. When she came out, he was sitting on the chair, shaking his head. She supposed he’d chosen the chair because of his wet robes.

“What did the hand signal mean?” she asked, walking to the wardrobe and opening it.

“It’s a punishment,” he said. “Shut the wardrobe, Joe. You’re not putting anything on yet.”
”I want to,” she said. She looked over at him. “Come on, Dominic. I’ve been displayed to half of the occupants of the monastery. Isn’t that enough?”
”Oh, you have no idea,” he said, shaking his head again. “Tonight, Joe, you will be going to dinner naked, with your hands tied behind your back. That’s what the three finger signal Bernard gave me meant.” Joely’s breath left her in a rush.

“That can’t happen,” she said.
”It can, and it will,” Dominic said. “Damn it, woman, why did you have to squeal and yell like that? And in front of Bernard, of all people?”
”I didn’t know he was there, and you gave me a fright when you caught me,” she said, still trying to process what he’d said.
”If you hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have had to catch you,” he pointed out. “And if you hadn’t hosed me and made this robe so wet and unwieldy, I’d have caught you before you got to the top of the stairs.” She opened her mouth to argue with that point, then closed it again.

No. There was no way she was going to walk into the dinner hall, in front of all of those men, stark naked, without even her hands to cover herself. Even Justin wouldn’t allow that. Would he? Turning her head away from Dominic, she found herself stifling a sob that was rising, hard and hot, from her suddenly tight chest.

“I didn’t want to have to do this to you,” Dominic said, sounding depressed. “It’s what Daniel wanted me to do to you yesterday, but I really didn’t want to. It’s not a pleasant experience, even for a man, and I can’t imagine what…oh don’t do that, Joe.” He’d realised she was crying, even though she was doing it silently, and for a man who claimed to be immune to tears, he was quick to react. He stood up, walked over to her and scooped her up into his arms, sinking down onto the floor with her cradled on his crossed legs.

“Come on,” he said, rocking her. “You’ll get through it. Once you’ve done this, not much else is going to seem too difficult, now is it?” Despite the fact that she was quite certain that she disliked him, she found herself turning her head into his neck and burying her face there.

“I can’t do it,” she said. “And I don’t see why I should have to. I’m not used to having to be quiet and I needed to go to the toilet and I’ve worked really hard all morning and you deserved to be hosed because you were teasing me.” All of this came out punctuated by small hiccups, and Dominic just patted her back and held her.

“I know,” he soothed. “It’s all right. We’ll get through it.” The realisation that she was sitting naked in his lap with her arms around his neck hit her all of a sudden and she stiffened up and tried to move.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, smiling at her. “I knew the fighting spirit would come back soon. I’m not letting you go yet, though. There’s very little I like more than having a pretty, nude woman sitting in my lap. Even if she is dirty and wet and smelly.”

“You’re dirty and wet and smelly too,” she said, trying to push away from him. His arms tightened around her.

“Not smelly,” he argued. “And not all that dirty apart from where it’s rubbed off from you. But wet. Definitely wet.” He shook his head, sending droplets of water from his hair splashing onto her bare skin and she squealed and pushed harder. He grinned.

“Dear heaven, how did you get mud on you there?” he asked, looking down. Following his gaze, she saw a clump of dirt on the part of her Andy had touched the day before. She brought one hand down smartly and covered the area in question.

“It splashed,” she said. “Let me up, Dominic. I need to clean up.”

“You do,” he agreed. “But not right now.”

“Yes!” she insisted, pounding on his shoulders. He laughed and rolled over, pinning her under him on the floor, his wet robe rough against her bare skin. Her legs were tangled and her hands were held in his.

“Stop fighting,” he said, his face inches from her own. Joely wondered exactly how to deliver a Liverpool kiss. It was only a matter of bringing her head up sharply, as far as she knew. He ended her internal debate by resting his own forehead on hers. It was either that or kiss her, and he didn’t think Bernard would approve of that at all.

“Time for a bath,” he said. With that, he released her hands, pushed up from the floor and reached down a hand to help her up.

Joely found lunch to be a difficult experience, even after washing her hair and her body and donning a new robe. She looked around the room, imagining herself walking in here, naked in front of all of these people. It just didn’t compute. It wasn’t something that she could picture herself doing at all. Her food was tasteless, and even finding out that she didn’t have to do anything that afternoon other than help Dominic sort some books in the big library didn’t distract her. The library itself should have, with tens of thousands of books, many of them dating back centuries. All she was aware of was the dust – more dust, and of the minutes ticking by. Racing by.

At dusk, Dominic took her back up to their room, waited for her to clean herself up, and then instructed her to take her robe off. In a daze, she did it, even putting her arms behind her for him to tie them at the wrists with one of the white ropes from the bed. Her acquiescence was worrying Dominic. He preferred it when she fought and was sarcastic and biting. He turned her round to face him and held her steady, his hands on her arms.

”I want to tell you a few things before we go down there,” he said. He looked into her eyes, held her gaze, then very deliberately looked down, all the way down to her toes and then back up again. Joely felt her cheeks burn. It was so degrading to be surveyed like that. Good, Dominic thought. She was reacting again.

”You’re beautiful,” he said simply, honestly. “When I woke up this morning and looked at you lying on your bed with the covers pulled down to your hips, I thought that you were the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. And I’ve seen some very pretty sights, Joe.” He paused.

“Thank you,” she said, without knowing why she said it. He smiled.

“Of all of the men in this monastery, I’m the youngest by at least ten years, possibly fifteen years if you take Andy out of the equation. Of all of the men here, the only one who’s had sex in the last decade is me. Now, I’m not saying that none of them are going to appreciate the sight of a lovely, naked woman, but I am saying that you don’t have to be scared that this is going to turn into a pack rape situation. They are all celibate. They have eyes, but that’s all they’re likely to do – look at you. The only man in the building you have to worry about is the one who shared your bedroom last night.”

She managed a half smile at that.

“It’s true,” he assured her, holding her eyes with his. “You’re safe in the dinner hall, Joe. This isn’t going to be pleasant for someone as modest as you are, but all you’re going to have to worry about it is a bit of embarrassment, as long as…”
”A bit!” she protested.

“All right, a lot,” he conceded. “As long as you remember to keep quiet. All right?” She bit her lower lip, chewed it for a while, then nodded.

“I can’t do this, Dominic,” she said.

“Yes you can,” he said. “We’ll get you through it.” As it was, he turned out to be right. It became much more of a joint experience than either of them would have predicted or wished for.

……………..

Walking naked into the hall was a horrible, horrible experience, one that made her feel as if she was going to double up and be sick. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, her breasts were bouncing with every step, and she felt as if her face was on fire with embarrassment. With her hands behind her, there was nothing she could do to cover herself, and Dominic’s hand on her shoulder kept her walking forward, towards the long tables of brown-clad men, all of whom were looking her way. And why wouldn’t they be? A naked woman was walking directly into their line of vision.

“Dominic,” she said softly, not moving her lips.
”Sssssh,” he responded quietly, his hand stroking her back. The faces of the monks came into focus, their hoods pushed back – some of them smiling, some serious, but all of them looking at her. Most of them were older men, and there was nothing about them that made her feel as if they were about to leap the tables and chase her around the room, but the sensation of being naked and helpless in a room crowded with men was not one she ever wanted to repeat. She squeezed her thighs together as she walked, desperately uncomfortable, her face and neck blazing.

When the tall monk who’d heaped bran onto Dominic’s cereal walked away from the long table, she didn’t at first realise he was coming her way. He had a big smile on his face, a good-humoured one, and when he came very close she realised that he was one of the two who had held her when she first arrived, not the missing link one, but the other. Caught up in this sudden memory, she didn’t realise his intent until it was too late. He reached out and his fingertip tickled at her navel, where Dominic had removed the body jewellery the day before. Joely saw red. It was just too much.

”Don’t you touch me, you pig!” she yelled. “Keep your fuc…” She didn’t get any further, because Dominic’s hand clamped over her mouth and she was dragged back against him, her abuse muffled totally as he turned her to bury her face into his shoulder. She knew she’d broken all the rules, knew she was in serious trouble. But she didn’t see how anything could be worse than being paraded nude into this room anyway. Until he let her go, let her turn her head around again, and she saw their faces. The quality of the silence had changed. There were no smiles now.

It was like a nightmare. She was held tight in Dominic’s arms, unable to run, the centre of attention and of disapproval. She couldn’t see a friendly face anyway – not even Andy, because he didn’t appear to be there. And then the nightmare sensation deepened as Bernard walked down the length of the table, stepped forward and beckoned to her, a sharp flick of his hand. It was not a welcoming gesture.

She was about to move when Dominic released her, stepped forward himself and shook his head at Bernard. He pointed at himself. Bernard looked steadily at him for a minute, then shook his head. Dominic nodded, insistent, pointed at himself again. Whatever was going on here, it was serious. Eventually, Bernard nodded.

Dominic’s hand returned to her back and she was gently pushed forward, to the right of the table, down along the length of the room to the raised platform he’d mentioned that morning. She’d noticed it the day before and thought it was a strange thing to have in the hall. It was not as if they would be having stage shows in here after all. Then, it had seemed a funny thought. A silent cabaret, perhaps? Now, her gaze travelled up to the series of hooks set in the beam that ran over it, and she didn’t feel at all like laughing.

Dominic guided her up the stairs, then undid the tie on his robe. She watched, an alarmed question in her eyes as he made a loop in one end of it and threw it up to one of the hooks in the overhead beam. He missed the first time, but he got it the second, and then he moved her forward, tying the free end of the rope to the bindings the held her wrists behind her back.

Joely was trying to ignore the fact that she was now centre-stage, still naked, in front of the whole room of men, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the tall monk step forward. He was the cause of all of this trouble as far as she was concerned, and she was horrified to see the long cane in his hand. He was going to hit her? He pointed it at Dominic, who ran his hand lightly down her back and stepped forward. Dominic was going to hit her? She began to struggle against the rope tie. She could move around, three or four steps in any direction, but she couldn’t get free. What was he going to do? Chase her round with the cane?

She sent Dominic a confused, panicked look, and he smiled. Then he took hold of his robe and pulled it up, over long legs and a lean, muscled body, up over his shoulders and head. He turned his back to her as he did it, and she saw that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. It was all she could do to keep quiet. She remembered reading a line from a British comedy show that went something like “he had buns so tight you could bounce him off the wall”. That line could have been written about Dominic, and the rest of him matched it. He was smooth and tanned, with the taut, sleek lines of an athlete. She wished he’d turn around.

His raised his arms above his head to grasp two low-hanging hooks and braced himself, and suddenly Joely realised what was happening. He was taking the punishment for her! Protest welled up inside her as she looked at that unmarked skin, at the beauty of it, but fear of causing more trouble and of being caned herself, kept her silent. The tall monk tapped Dominic on the shoulder and the younger man looked around as far as he could with his arms raised. The monk made a spinning motion with his hand.

Without even a gesture of protest, Dominic lowered his arms and turned to face the tables, to face Joely, putting his hands back up on the hooks. Her eyes widened. If the back of him was well worth looking at, the front of him was breathtaking. His shoulders, his arms, the six-pack of his abdominal muscles…she looked down quickly, taking it all in, missing nothing. All of him was most definitely memorable, and the image of some parts of him in particular was etched into her mind.

When she glanced up, there was a wry twist to his mouth as he looked at her. After all of the times he’d seen her naked, there was a strange irony to this – but the circumstances were certainly not ideal.

The tall monk stepped back, looking over at Joely, then back at Dominic. Then he smiled, stepped forward, and to Joely’s shock, picked up Dominic’s penis and shook it, for all the world as if he was shaking hands. It was certainly a handful, she couldn’t help noticing. Dominic sighed, the breath of expelled air blowing his hair up from his forehead, and the monk smiled broader. Then he moved behind Dominic and took up position.

The first whip of the cane cracked loud into the silence of the hall. Over a hundred pairs of eyes watched as Dominic flinched. Then the cane cracked again. And again. Twenty times it came down, Dominic’s face tightening more with each swing, the muscles in his arms and thighs bunching hard. Joely counted every stroke, felt every one of them, tied where she was, an unwilling front-row audience.

And then it was over. The monk stepped back, Dominic straightened up and lowered his arms. He looked over at Bernard, who nodded. Then he bent down slowly and with obvious difficulty, and picked up his robe, pulling it on over his head and down over his body. He untied the rope from Joely’s hands and tried to flick it off the hook, but it wouldn’t slip. He tried three times, the look on his face showing the pain it was causing him. He left it there, was leading her away when the tall monk flicked the rope off and handed it to him.

Dominic smiled his thanks, causing Joely to burn. He was thanking the man who’d just caned him? Who would have caned her? That anger got her through the walk back to their places at the table. She was there before the realisation that she was still naked in a hall full of men hit her again.

She went to sit down, but Dominic’s hand on her arm stopped her. He shook his head and indicated that she was to stay standing, right at the end of the table. He sat down carefully, slowly, pulled two plates towards him, and began to cut up the food on one of them.

With everyone else seated, Joely was, if anything, felt even more conspicuous than before. Dominic speared a piece of meat on a fork and held it up to her. Not far enough up for her to reach without leaning, however, and she would have rejected it, refused to bend, if she hadn’t been feeling so bad about him taking the caning for her. She bent, her breasts swinging down, to capture the mouthful. He smiled at her and speared some more food.

The meal seemed to last forever as she stood, exposed and shamed, as much by his generosity as her nudity. Everyone present knew that she had been about to be punished for speaking – yelling in this public place, and that Dominic had taken the punishment in her place. The looks directed her way were of censure and disapproval, and many of those who would normally have spared her blushes now made a point of looking her up and down, making her discomfort as bad as possible.

Finally, after two courses neither of them had tasted, Dominic stood stiffly, nodded around the room, and led her away, across the wide room and out. She stayed silent all the way up the stairs, along the hallway and into the room.

And then she turned to him and realised she had no idea what to say.

“Dominic….” she tried. He just looked at her. Then he smiled.

“It’s all right,” he said. “But I swear, if you do that again, Joe, you’re on your own.” He turned her round and undid her wrists as he spoke, but his words sparked a torrent of self-justification from her that even not being able to face him didn’t stem.

“If he hadn’t touched me I wouldn’t have spoken,” she said. “Even though that was so awful, having to be in there in front of all of them like that, but I wouldn’t have done it, because I…oh Dominic!” Her hands free, she turned round and threw herself at him, burying her face in his chest. His arms came round her while her hands curled into fists on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you for taking the caning instead of me. I thought you were going to cane me for a while, that you’d argued with Bernard that you should be the one to punish me.” Dominic managed a laugh.
”I wouldn’t have had to argue for that,” he said. “I would have been expected to cane you.”
”You would?” she lifted her face from his chest. He nodded.

“And I would have hated it,” he said. “Putting marks on that soft, white skin of yours would have made me sick. That’s why I didn’t spank you yesterday.” A thought occurred to her, and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling for the marks left by the cane. He winced and began to back away.

“Let me see,” she insisted, trying to turn him.

“No,” he said. “It’s all right.”
”It’s not all right,” she said. “Take this off and let me put some of that soothing cream on. The stuff you used on me.”

“You just want to get my clothes off,” he said, quoting her from the night before. She almost smiled, then remembered that she was still naked herself.

“Can I put my robe on now?” she asked.

“Not if I’m taking mine off,” he responded. And he did just that, pulling it over his head again, catching his breath as the stretch of the movement pulled at his skin. Joely headed for the bathroom cupboard.

“Lie down on your bed,” she ordered, wanting to look at him again, but wanting to heal his hurts more. She came out of the bathroom, clutching the container of cream, and saw him lying down, as ordered. And almost burst into tears. Red lines crossed his backside and the backs of his thighs, intersecting, fiery lines of pain that marred the perfection of the skin she’d admired before.

“Oh, Dominic,” she said, her breath catching.

“It’ll heal,” he said, turning his head on the pillow. “It has before. Now, are you going to put that stuff on me, or am I just providing you with some viewing pleasure here?”

She rubbed it on him gently, tracing each line with her fingertips, willing the raised skin and the welts away. As her fingers traversed the tight lines of his backside, his skin tightened further, and he kept his legs firmly together when she tended to his thighs.

“Relax,” she ordered. “I’ve seen the rest of you too, remember?”

“Yes I remember,” he said. “Thanks to Duncan. I thought that since you were there, I’d turn the other way, but he wasn’t going to let me get away with that, the mongrel.”
”Is Duncan the tall monk who caned you?” she asked. “The one who shook your…” Dominic made a sound of amusement.

“That’s him,” he said. “One day I’ll tell you the story behind that.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Joely said, scooping out another dollop of cream. “I think.”

He slept naked that night, face down on top of the covers, his head turned towards her. As Joely turned out the light and settled into her bed, untied, she looked across at him, knowing that he was going to have an uncomfortable night and wishing she could magic it away.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he responded. She vowed to stay awake till he slept, even if it took all night.

Unfortunately, the day’s hard work defeated her, along with the weight of the emotional rollercoaster she’d gone through, and she was asleep within ten minutes. Dominic lay awake for much longer, moving occasionally to find a more comfortable position, wondering what had possessed him to take the caning for her. He finally drifted into sleep just before dawn.

…………………

He woke not long after, his skin tight and sore. The cane hadn’t cut him, and he knew he’d be fine within hours, but he also knew from experience that he was unlikely to get back to sleep now, given how uncomfortable he was. He was thinking about getting up, maybe having a bath, when Joely stirred and sat up. He remembered that he’d forgotten to tie her hands.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he assured her.

“No you’re not,” she said. “You’re hurting, aren’t you?”
”Not really,” he said. “Well, maybe a little, but nothing to worry about.”

“I’ll get the cream,” she said. “Lie still.”
”I need to go to the bathroom first,” he said. “I’ll bring the cream back.” She used the time while he was away to debate whether or not to put her robe on. Once the bathroom light went off, it would be dark again, so he wouldn’t be able to see her – not that there was any of her that he hadn’t seen already. She’d just decided to do without it when the light went off and he came back.

“I don’t really need it,” Dominic said.
”You’re getting it anyway,” Joely said firmly, reaching her hand out for the tub of cream. She saw a flash of his teeth as he grinned and handed it over.

“We’ve got some role reversal happening here,” he said. Nevertheless, he stretched out on the bed again, making room for her to sit beside him.

His skin felt hot under her fingers and he jumped as the cold cream came into contact with him.

“I can’t feel any welts now,” she said, running her hand over his backside.

“I heal fast,” he said, shifting a little under her touch. Before, it had been soothing. Now, it was something else.

“Joe,” he said, concentrating on keeping his voice steady. “I really am okay. You don’t need to do that.”

”Save your breath,” she said. “If I’d had my way, I would have become a doctor. I used to medicate and bandage all of my dolls. And my cat. And the occasional tame servant.” He smiled into the pillow.

“Why didn’t you become a doctor?” he asked.

“Justin wouldn’t let me,” she said. “And I was never allowed to go to a proper school anyway. I had tutors, but that was it. He wants me to be decorative and useful to his political career, nothing else.” Her fingers slipped into the cleft between his buttocks and he shifted again.

“Why?” he asked, willing her to move onto his legs, away from the sensitive skin of his butt.

“My looks are the only things he values about me,” she said simply.

“I can’t believe that,” he said.

“Believe it,” she said. “And the fact that I’m my mother’s daughter.” Dominic nodded, although she couldn’t see it.
”Jane-Anne Mistrall,” he said. “She was something.”
”She was,” Joely agreed. “She was a wash-out as a mother, but I’m told she was a good actress. And very beautiful. I never got to see any of her movies. Justin doesn’t believe that movies are a good influence.” Dominic stored that piece of information away. It wasn’t a total surprise to him.

“Your father was a director, wasn’t he?” He already knew the answer.

“Yes,” she said. “Sol Roberts. A very good director apparently, although I haven’t seen his pictures either.”
”He was,” Dominic said. “One of the best.”
”And very ugly, if his pictures are accurate.” That made him laugh a little.

“Well you obviously take after your mother,” he said. “Joe, move your hand from there, please.”

Joely blinked in surprise, then smiled.

“What, here?” she asked, running her fingertips lightly under each of his buttocks, back and forth.
”Yes,” he said, shifting again to accommodate an erection that was becoming uncomfortable to lie on. “My legs are sore. Put the cream there.”
”Soon,” she said sweetly, continuing to run her fingers over him, up over his butt and back down again, tracing each line thoroughly, softly. He gave in and laughed.

“Stop it, you brat,” he said.

“Are you ticklish?” she teased.

“No,” he answered, only lying a little. He wasn’t ticklish there.
”So why do you want me to stop?” she asked. He sighed.

“Just do it,” he said, moving away from her. Her hand followed him.

“All right,” she relented, enjoying herself. “I’ll do your legs now. Lie still.” Shifting yet again, Dominic did his best to follow her instruction. He did a good job of it, such a good job that Joely became convinced that he’d gone to sleep.

“Dominic?” she asked after she’d dragged out the massaging of the cream into his thighs for as long as she possibly could. “Are you asleep?” He decided not to answer, partly because he was still focusing on reducing the blood supply to a certain part of his body. The touch of her hands on the back of his thighs hadn’t been much of an improvement in that regard.

“Good,” she said, satisfied. She stood up, put the lid on the tub of cream and put it down on the bedside cabinet. Then, on an impulse, she bent down over him and kissed his cheek.

“Sleep well,” she said. She could just make out his features, the line of his jaw, his chin. She dipped one fingertip into the cleft.

“Who are you?” she asked him. “You are so gorgeous, you have to be someone.” Dominic controlled the urge to smile as she bent down, rested her arms on the bed and looked at him. Her finger trailed onto his face again, feeling the stubble on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the growth was rough and sharp. She shifted her hand and touched his hair, rubbing one curl between his fingers.

”You’re a horrible man, but you did such a nice thing for me,” she said softly, talking safely into the darkness as far as she knew. “No-one has ever done anything like that for me before. All of those times that Justin hit me, no-one ever even said anything to him, although they must have known. They were all too scared that they’d lose their jobs. I don’t think you’d be scared, Dominic.” Her voice was tired now. She was tired now, and depressed when she thought about Justin. She started to climb up, ready to go back to sleep. His arm lifted from the bed, as if he was moving in his sleep, wrapped around her and pulled her down beside him.

“Dominic?” Joely asked, appalled that he might have heard what she’d said. She was relieved when he didn’t answer. She settled herself more comfortably on the mattress while she decided how to get out from under his arm. It was warm and heavy and it was lying around her hips. She thought that if she sort of lay down beside him, she might be able to wriggle out from under it. She had half-executed this move, was half-lying, half sitting beside him, when he moved again and rubbed his face against her. More specifically, against her breasts, which were resting on the pillow beside him as she tried to extricate herself from his hold. She had no way of knowing that he’d been watching through slightly opened eyes, timing his move.

“Dominic!” she protested softly, not knowing whether to laugh or be horrified when his lips brushed against her, parting, and she caught her breath as he captured her nipple, softly trapping it. Well now what was she supposed to do? If she woke him, it would be hard to explain how this had happened, how she came to be lying on his bed beside him. But to stay here while he was doing this, his arm around her, his mouth moving on her, warm and wet now, his tongue sliding over the sensitive nub of flesh, was almost impossible.

Catching her breath, she eased her head down against the headboard and decided she’d better just wait it out, until he stopped what he was doing and she could resume her wriggling escape. In principle, it wasn’t a bad plan. In practice, it became very difficult to deal with, the gentle, wet tugging on her breast causing corresponding tugs in her belly. She found herself moving her hips involuntarily, slowly moving them within the circle of the arm he had slung around her. He released her nipple with a wet kiss, then pressed his face against her, nuzzling down, into her cleavage and then lower still, blindly (as far as she knew) searching for the other breast. Without knowing why, Joely found herself shifting to accommodate him, to allow him access, and she gave a soft gasp as he found her there, too. His stubble was rough against her, his mouth hot. It was when his tongue came into play, circling her nipple, laving it slowly, thoroughly and expertly, that she realised she’d been had.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Joely asked, knowing the answer.

“Oooh yeah,” he said, laughter in his voice as he slickly moved his mouth away from her breast. He tightened his arm as she immediately tried to pull away.

“You…you…” she struggled, squealing as his hand closed flat over her bottom and pulled her back. He laughed softly.

“Ssssh,” he said. “Give me a kiss and I’ll let you go.”
”No,” she said firmly. “You’ve had more than enough, you bad man.”

“Ah well,” he said. “I’ll just go back to kissing here again.” He rubbed his face against her breast, to make it clear what he was referring to.

“No!” she said again, louder this time. “Stop that!” Another soft laugh.

She gave in.

“You have to let me move if you want me to kiss you,” she pointed out.

“No I don’t,” he said. Instead, he moved. Keeping his hand on her backside, he shifted himself up the bed, letting his chest brush against her breasts, still damp from his ministrations. He ignored the tightness of his sore skin and tried to ignore the insistent demands of his groin. He kept his hips well back from her. Just one kiss, then he’d let her go, he told himself.

As he loomed up over her, Joely felt a brief sensation of panic. She was naked in bed with him. He was bigger than her and much stronger than her. And, despite everything he’d done to her over the last couple of days, she had an undeniably physical attraction to him. She was also very grateful to him for taking the punishment for her. She just had time to ask herself whether she was more worried about what he was going to do to her, or about what she was going to do to him, before his lips touched hers.

“Ssssh,” he said again, feeling her shake. He turned his head so he could angle into her lips better. Just a soft, simple kiss, he told himself. And then she opened her lips, softened against him, and he gave up. Propped against the bed-head, he pulled her into his arms properly so he could deepen the kiss, and she lay over his chest and stopped worrying as his tongue dipped into her mouth. Warmth travelled quickly into heat, his hand tightening on her backside, her hand tangling in his hair, their bodies moving against each other’s.

Dominic broke the kiss and took a breath.

“Dear heaven,” he said. “What am I doing?”

“Whatever it is, I like it,” Joely murmured. He laughed.

“So do I,” he said. “But we’d best stop it now. Go on. Go back to your own bed, Joe.”

Perversely, now that she’d sampled that kiss, she was in no real hurry any more. She snuggled against him, moved her hand down from his hair onto his shoulder, then down his long, strong arm.

“I think I’m too tired to move,” she teased. “Perhaps I should just sleep here.”
”And perhaps you shouldn’t,” he said. “Go on, you little tease. Get back to bed.” Smiling, Joely gave in and got up, but not without taking a quick trip across his lower body with her fingers. Her eyes widened at the same instant as he grabbed at her hand and removed it.

“Dominic!” she said, stunned. He made a sound that was somewhere between laughter and a growl.

“Sleep, woman!” he said.

“Well, if you’re sure you’re okay,” she said, enjoying herself again. It was so nice to have the upper hand, after all. If he’d pulled her back onto the bed at that point, she’d have shrieked and struggled, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was the one who had to show restraint here, which meant that she could have fun. It was just a pity that she was so tired, really.

She walked around his bed, climbed into her own.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over here and tie me up?” she asked suggestively. Dominic grinned appreciatively in the dark.

“Sleep!” he said again. He rolled onto his side, facing away from her bed, and attempted to follow his own advice. Well, at least he’d managed to distract her from her thoughts about her stepfather smacking her about, he told himself. Now he just had to decide what he was going to do with that piece of information.