EXTRACT FOR
Honeymoon In Bondage
(Lizbeth Dusseau)

Part One



Chapter One

Honeymoon Blues



Clouds hung heavy over London, a foggy rain dampening the air. Alain Danvers looked from the hotel window into the bleary lights of the city; he could almost feel the wetness on his skin, his brow, his hands, as if it were creeping through the walls, deliberately turning his flesh cold. Events of the last day ??" the last two hours, in fact ??" put him in a mood as grey and dreary as this miserable night. Twenty-four hours before, there had been a brilliant sun and blue skies to welcome them to England, and later after sunset, a rather warm evening for an autumn night in England. But how fast things change.

	Alain turned from the window and gazed around the empty hotel room, worried, perhaps; wondering where she was, definitely. His new bride Meredith had taken off in a fit of anger. Not that he hadn't expected as much. This was to be their honeymoon, a stopover in England to visit a dear friend and then two weeks in Southern Italy, which was all he could spare in his busy schedule. And now, the two week honeymoon had turned into no more than an idle daydream, diminished to little more than a day. Maybe if he hadn't answered the phone call as they were leaving for dinner...but of course he had, and the call was urgent. Unexpected developments in an ongoing and very sensitive investigation would force their return and a premature end to their trip. She'd been so excited. The new bride, flushed from the romance of her wedding...the quaint chapel...the long slim gown...the veil, the flowers...their first dance. 

	He was pissed, too, over the swiftness with which their plans changed. But this was the life of a Police Captain and their return to the States was unavoidable. Almost predictably, however, Meredith retreated to one of her more childish behaviors once Alain stated the facts and she fled the hotel room in tears. She should have just stomped her feet and screamed ??"  that might have felt better for them both. 

	Though their disappointment was palpable, he'd be damned if he'd run after her. Yes, give her time to stew awhile, calm down, come to her senses and hopefully return, that was Alain's initial inclination. She knew better than to make him suffer, since he had plenty of ways he could make her truly suffer if he were so inclined. He'd rather she come back to him on her own; that would produce a much better result for them both. But forty-five minutes later with Meredith still missing, Alain was growing restless. It appeared that the new Mrs. Danvers, his beautiful brunette waif, was waiting him out; probably nursing a drink in the hotel pub. 

	But what if she wasn't there? he wondered.

	Another fifteen minutes ticked by, restlessness turned to anxiety. Another dreary gaze out the rain-drenched windows. He'd waited long enough. 



***



Meredith had walked in the cold London rain for over a half hour before finally retreating to the hotel pub. Her slight, well-formed body was shivering now, even after the long draught of brandy she'd gulped down. She could think only of how stupid she was, how her emotions had won her over, making her fly down the stairs like an ill-tempered six year old ??" the elevator just wasn't fast enough. She'd stumbled on the last step and ignored the burning pain in her ankle, thinking she'd just walk it off while she drank in the fresh air. She hadn't realized how bone-chillingly cold London could be on a rainy November night. If she hadn't been so stupidly rash, she'd be snuggled close in her husband's arms, soaking in the warmth of his body, enjoying the tenderness of his kisses. He was sometimes a difficult man and a hellish master, but he was so good to her and he loved her so. How she ever got him to marry her remained a mystery. The great difference in their ages was enough to have their relationship seem like an unlikely match. And yet, the age factor actually worked to her advantage. She was the submissive female he'd always longed for, while he was the forthright authority to which she was determined to submit. She was his project to love, to lead and to guide. But even though Alain had tried hard to reform her in the last several months, she was obviously still a miserable mess. 

	'Calm, you have to be calm, Meredith...' she told herself. 'When you're calm, you go upstairs, you apologize, you make things right...everything will be just fine...' She repeated the mantra hoping that eventually it would work, and she'd have the courage to return to their room. 

	Taking another swallow of brandy, she chanced to look up from her corner of the pub, past the drinking patrons and the long gleaming, well-stocked bar to the open door where instinct drew her eye. A shudder far colder than the London night caused her entire body to quake as she saw her husband gazing across the room. His being enveloped her immediately. This was nothing new. Alain's most pensive, stoic expression was what she would have expected for the occasion. How like him in every way. A staunch Police Captain, a crack detective, a man of self-control, of handsome, classic good looks and an elegant breeding that made her middle-aged husband more beautiful to her than all the hard-bodied young studs women of twenty-four were expected to lust after. No man but Alain could make her shudder as she did now, or raise that tingle of excitement in her crotch, or ignite such a serious fear in her gut. Anxiety and emotion started to rise so fiercely that they were clutching her at the throat.

	Oh, how she wanted the next hour to be over! Her mind fast-forwarded to the moment when they would finally tumble in bed together and repair what had been broken between them in the last hours...and yet, the part of her that had singled out Alain Danvers as the man she needed, as a man she could dare love, would savor every one of the next formidable minutes facing what he had to say. She imagined the dressing down, the stern lecture, the punishment, the necessary pain and the eventual catharsis that would make everything right. This was how it worked between them. As her husband approached, her mind flashed through the scenes with another shuddering rush of energy. 

	Anguished tears formed in her eyes and her shoulders hunched up like a frightened child's. She winced once he reached the table. 

	"You know, Meri, even when you look like a drowned rat, you're still beautiful?"

	The comment instantly cut through the moment of panic with a bit of sanity.

	"Am I?" She sank back deeply into the leather booth and gazed up through wet lashes at Alain's face. He seemed not half as angry as she expected him to be.

	"Of course." He smiled. 

	"But you...you are angry, aren't you?" She really needed to confirm this fact.

	"You're right, I'm not too happy with your behavior."

	"And...you'll...spank me hard, won't you?" she asked in her weakest voice.

	"If that's what you need."

	"I'm so sorry, Alain."

	"I'm sure you are, Mrs. Danvers." His voice had been low and comforting, but now there was an edge that they could both feel in a visceral way. "Come now." He held out his hand for her and she slowly peeled herself off the leather seat, his arm going protectively around her waist as he led her upstairs to their room.