"Of course he did not. Eirik was most kind to me. He was gentle, and... and... he would have made a fine husband. I miss him very much."
"Yet this is the first time his name has arisen between us."
"Why would I talk to you of my betrothed?"
"Did you spread your legs for him?"
Brynhild sat up, wincing as her weight settled on her punished buttocks. She glared at Taranc, outraged at the question. "How dare you ask me such a thing? What gives you the right?"
"Did you? Was it he who convinced you that you would not do such a thing again?"
Does he forget nothing? Am I to be challenged on every unguarded remark? Is every last one of my secrets to be scrutinised, examined, analysed and explained? This is insufferable!
Her temper simmered. "May I suggest you mind your own business, Celt? I shall not press you on the intimate details of your relationship with my brother's bed-slave, and you shall not pry into my life."
"You may not suggest that, and you will have a care how you speak to me unless you are prepared to present your pretty bottom for another spanking. You will answer."
"Why? Why should I? What is it to you?"
"You are in my care."
"I... I am not. I am your prisoner, for now, that is all."
He sighed and reached for her, then drew her close to his chest. Brynhild lay stiff in his arms, the threat—or promise—of a spanking not lost on her. He nuzzled the top of her head with his lips.
"I would not wish you to consider me unduly harsh. How would you feel about an honest exchange? I shall tell you of my relationship with Fiona, and you shall tell me of your Eirik."
"I have no desire to hear about Fiona. She is nothing to me."
"Liar. You asked how often I tied her up and spanked her bare bottom."
"And you told me you never treated her in such a way, yet you will ill-treat me as you please."
"A man does not spank a woman for whom he cares nothing."
"You are speaking in riddles. Did you not care for your betrothed?" She could not believe this. He had seemed so concerned, so outraged on Fiona's behalf when he believed the little Celtic slave to be in danger.
"I did care for her, but as I would a sister. We spent much time together as children..."
"How long were you betrothed?"
"There was an understanding of sorts between her father and mine from when we were both quite young, but the arrangement was only formalised two years ago, just before my father died. He wanted matters settled, I suppose."
"But you did not wed."
"No, we did not."
"She was a virgin, when my brother first had her."
"Yes."
"You and she, you never..."
"Obviously."
"Why not."
"We were friends, but there was nothing more between us. We would have done our duty, I daresay, eventually. Your brother's intervention changed all of that."
