them, seeming to
rock the world.
Chapter Five
Miranda woke to the quiet sounds of two staff members leaving their cabana. A tray
with tea and scones and a new bowl of fruit was on the table. From the gentle angle
of the sun she guessed it to be around eight o’clock. Roan was just stirring beside
her.
She blinked. She’d spent all night in his arms. And she didn’t feel like getting up
and running off, back to her apartment in the staff quarters—her hideaway. No, in
fact, she was as content as she’d ever been in her life.
Crazy.
She started to sit up but Roan grabbed her and pulled her roughly back down.
“Where do you think you’re going, beauty?”
“To find a toothbrush.”
“Hang on.” He sat up with her still in his arms, pulling her with him. “Tea service,
Miranda. Now.”
“Tea service? You must be joking.”
“I never joke,” he said, yawning.
How did the man manage to look so damn sexy with his dark hair ruffled and stubble
on his jaw?
Had to be the stubble.
She laughed. “If you say so. Fine. Tea service. What do you take?”
“I’m English. Milk and one sugar. And Miranda? I wanted to ask if I’ve gained your
trust?”
“What? Yes. You have. Is that a prerequisite to tea service?”
“No, but it may be to other things. By the way, see you put the milk in the cup first.”
She clucked her tongue. “Picky, picky.”
“It’s a Dom’s job to be picky,” he said, yawning again.
She prepared his tea, handed him the cup. “You know, if you keep yawning you’ll ruin
that whole authoritarian tone thing.”
The next thing she knew he’d grabbed her and pulled her across his lap—she had no
idea where his teacup had gone—and tore her sarong off to give her a sound smack on
the ass.
“How’s that for authoritarian?”
“Much better,” she said, her body beginning to purr.
“I should hope so. Pour your tea and drink some. Then we’re going to bathe in the
ocean.”
They had their tea and a few of the scones, which were excellent, having come out
of her kitchen like the bread they’d had the night before. Then they got up and wandered
down to the water, Roan holding onto her hand. She realized he’d hardly let her go
all night.
The foam curled around their feet, and they stood for a while, enjoying the morning
sun on their skin, smiling to each other for no apparent reason. She didn’t want to
question it too closely. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this good,
this relaxed, and she didn’t want to ruin it.
Roan pulled on her hand, raised one dark, elegant brow, then picked her up, threw
her over his shoulder and strode into the waves with her.
“Roan!” she squealed.
“I said it was bath time. Quiet now or there’ll be another spanking.”
“How is that a threat?”
“Excellent point. But do you have any idea how much more an open hand stings on wet
flesh? Let’s find out, shall we?”
She was laughing, struggling, but he was so strong—it was easy enough for him to strip
her bikini bottoms off and dip her down into the crashing waves until she was thoroughly
soaked. Then, standing again, he smacked her bare bottom hard.
“Oh!”
“Bad?” he asked. “Poor girl.”
“Your attempt at sympathy is falling short, Roan.”
He smacked her again, a quick volley of stinging slaps that made her smile, her body
filling up with the lovely endorphins.
“Good girl. Nice and quiet.”
He lowered her into the water, holding her in his arms. Her body was buzzing with
need, and as he pulled her closer, she felt the hard ridge of his desire against her
belly. The mood shifted in a flash and she sighed as she pressed closer. He fisted
a hand in her wet hair, pulling until her head tilted back, his green eyes gleaming
in the sun, making her breath catch. He bent his head to kiss her, but she grabbed
his chin, stopping him.
“Roan, wait. We need to
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