The Arrogant Author
By Amanda Dashwood
Copyright 2012 Blushing Books Publications and Amanda Dashwood
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 by Blushing Books® and Amanda Dashwood
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Dashwood, Amanda
The Arrogant Author
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-424-2
Cover Design: ABCD Graphics
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Chapter One
Alexandra felt a gust of cold air against her bare shoulders as she took her coat off and handed it over to the man in the wardrobe. She was dressed in a crimson dress that hugged her upper body, it had spaghetti straps and a lovely wide skirt. The fabric was shiny satin and it really made her feel special. She didn't get that many chances to dress up so she was excited about this party.
It was a launch party for a book she had been working on. Alexandra worked at a publishing house and was just a tiny part of the team that had been working with the book, nothing more than a glorified secretary that aspired to be an editor. One of the perks of the job was that she could go to this kind of parties. She didn't care much for the author of the combined travel and food book they had published, nor for the book, but it was still a party.
She smiled at the man who took her coat and went for the door to the hotel's ballroom. She walked awkwardly on her, a tad too high, heels. The type of dress she was wearing demanded heels but her feet weren't happy.
She felt good as she entered the room, one or two guests turned their heads as she passed and she got the impression they liked what they saw. Alexandra wasn't too spoiled with that and it made her forget her hurting feet.
She found her colleagues, and went over to them. They were standing in a corner, drinking champagne. They were the ones who had done most of the editing and design of the book but it was the CEO and the Chief Editor and, of course, the author, herself, who got all the attention. Alexandra didn't mind it that much but she could see that Claire, who had done most of the editing, was a little annoyed.
Claire looked smashing in a blue dress and silvery droplets and Alexandra envied her ability to look so casually elegant all the time. Still she liked Claire. She liked her as much as she liked Kevin, Tanya, Brian and Sophie, the others in the team. She decided to stay with them for a while and listen to the welcoming speeches, but then she wanted to mingle and circulate and just feel the atmosphere.
The CEO talked too long and so did the Chief Editor. The only one who kept it short was the author herself. At last Alexandra felt free to move around and see if there were any interesting people to accidentally bump into.
As it happened, someone bumped into her, and did it in the literal sense of the word. She had just grabbed a second glass of champagne from a tray when she was suddenly shoved from behind and almost dropped the glass.
'Oh, my apologies,' a voice said behind.
Alexandra turned and looked into a pair of grey eyes. The fact that the man, with the grey eyes, smiled friendly at her, didn't manage to remove her sense of annoyance.
'No problem,' she replied and gave him a stiff smile.
He looked at her, kept her with his gaze, and she felt that the mood changed. The man turned from being apologetic to curious, his smile from disarming to eager.
'I am John, John Burden,' he said, still smiling, holding his hand out, 'I am an author.'
'I am not,' Alexandra replied and took his hand.
'Can I get you something?' He asked.
'No, I am fine, you didn't quite manage to ruin the champagne.'
She could not hide the coldness in her tone. She was not happy with this man. He looked at her in a way she should be flattered by, but something in his manner made him seem very arrogant and superior.
'And whom do I have the honour of talking to?'
She didn't want to reply, she didn't want to give him anything.
'Oh, I am Alexandra Fletcher, I'm in the team that publishes Mrs Law's book.'
She cursed herself for being so polite. She had wanted to snub him, to give him some cold and forbidding reply. Instead she was being helpful. She was too weak, too insecure and she hated him for it.
'I hope you did a good job. Your firm is publishing my book too.'
She hated the way he said 'my book'. He was just another of those self centred writers who thought they were the answer to every publisher's prayers.
She didn't ask him about his book, she pretended she didn't care, but he didn't let her gaze go. She couldn't help staring back at him. He kept her with his glittering grey eyes.
'I hope to see more of you, during the evening,' he said, brazenly, nodded and left.
Alexandra was furious. He had made her feel small. She did not enjoy being humiliated by some self proclaimed celebrity. She looked at him as he went and was further annoyed when she saw that he was both tall and slim and moved with a grace she would have fancied, had it been anyone else.
She found some nibbles and some more to drink and, as she moved as gracefully as she could manage through the throng, she felt her anger abate. This was too nice an evening to be spoilt by John Burden, author of some useless book.
A little later the band began to play and Alexandra joined Claire and Kevin at a table. She was happy to sit down for a while and rest her feet. She had some more to drink and felt nicely tipsy. She didn't care much for Claire's and Kevin's bitching about the unfairness of the publishing industry, the evening was far too nice to be disturbed by that kind of thing.
'Does Ms Fletcher care for a dance?'
For the second time, this evening, she looked into the grey eyes of John Burden. He smiled.
'Why not?' she replied and rose to her feet. She saw the curious glances from her friends as she let herself be escorted onto the dance floor.
She didn't want to dance with this man. She had said yes out of politeness and was already planning her escape. He didn't take any notice of her reluctance, instead he put a firm arm around her waist and swung her around in a foxtrot.
Alexandra loved to dance and, for a moment, she let herself be moved by the dance, forgetting what an annoying man he was. She looked at him and saw how handsome he was but hurried to dismiss those thoughts when she remembered what kind of person he was.
'You are a good dancer,' John Burden whispered in her ear.
'Are you trying to be nice to me?' she snapped.
'Yes, but it is true, all the same.'
'Don't be ridiculous!'
'I am not ridiculous.'
She stopped dancing and looked at him. He smiled and she saw how much superior he felt himself to be.
'Thank you for the dance,' she said, coldly, 'I will return to my friends now.'
'As you wish,' he said and looked disappointed for a flicker of a moment.
She walked briskly back to the table and sat down. Her friends, who had now been joined by Brian and Tanya, looked at her with surprised gazes.
Alexandra sat for a while, wondering why she was so annoyed with this man. The only reasons she could think of, were his smugness and arrogance, as if he took her for granted, that he thought she would be flattered by his attention. Maybe she was, maybe she liked the attention, but something in his ways made her furious, made her want to be mean to him and show him she had confidence enough to reject him.
Brian asked her for a dance and she accepted. He was not her image of the ideal dance partner but she wanted to dance so he would do. Alexandra knew Brian well, she was very used to seeing his face. He had the desk closest to her at the office.
Brian was a little chubby but he was a good dancer. Alexandra was surprised, but for the moment she didn't care, letting him move her around the dance floor. She was much happier when they returned to the table.
She was dying for something to drink and was just about to start off for the bar to get something when she heard a voice behind her.
'Can I get you something?'
She spun round and looked up into the face of John Burden. He didn't give up. Alexandra felt her heart beating hard.
'No, thank you, I am fine.'
'I thought I would try to do something right, tonight,' he replied with an unusually friendly smile. This infuriated her.
'No, thank you,' she snapped, 'I don't want anything from you.'
His face stiffened a little and then he made a hint of a bow and left.
'I hope that was the last we saw of him,' Alexandra said to her friends at the table.
'I think he seemed nice,' Tanya tried.
'Why don't you go after him, then?' Alexandra replied.
Tanya looked deflated.
Alexandra felt tired and angry, robbed of a nice launch party. Why couldn't he leave her alone? She just wanted to enjoy herself. Not even a second tour on the floor with Brian could lift her spirits and when they returned she had decided to call it a day.
She said goodbye to her colleagues and left. She walked through the room towards the stair to the lobby. She just wanted to go home. But something happened on the way that changed her evening.
'Come here,' a, now, familiar voice whispered in her ear as she felt a hand grip her arm. She was turned around and once again she was facing the man who had made her evening a miserable one. She stared into a face that was no longer friendly, but hard and relentless.
Before she knew it, he dragged her through a door. She almost tripped and fell. She managed to avoid the disaster but couldn't stop John Burden from keeping his grip on her arm.
They had entered a small corridor and soon they went through another door, into the kitchen. Alexandra was gathering herself for a protest but the sheer power in the man's grip and the determination with which he was dragging her behind him, made her hesitate. There was something terrifying in the whole thing. It was so unexpected, so unusual.
There were very few people in the hotel kitchen, but the ones who were there, mostly waiters preparing trays with drinks, looked at them both with surprise. Alexandra wondered if they thought they were being witnesses to a domestic drama, an irate husband taking his misbehaving wife home.
They went through the kitchen and through a door that led to a back alley. The air was suddenly cold against her skin as she was spun round again, now facing her abductor.
'What are you doing?' she gasped.
'Something that is long overdue,' he replied.
His face was as grim as before, his lips pressed together.
'You have no right...,' she began, her voice sounding angry now.
'Who cares about rights?'
'Who do you think you are?'
'I am just a man,' he said.
He dragged her along a bit further, towards the wall at the other side of the alley. Alexandra noticed that there were two men standing some distance away. They wore the white jackets of the kitchen staff and she saw that they were smoking, taking a break.
John Burden put his leg on the stair to a dingy door in the building opposite the hotel and with a powerful movement he swung her round. He let go of his grip on her arm and placed a powerful hand on her back. With the other hand he gripped her neck and, with one swift movement, he bent her over his leg.
Alexandra almost fell forward but his leg stopped her from hitting the ground. Instead she found herself half leaning on, half bent over it. She was speechless and stunned by the suddenness and brutality of his way of treating her. Images of rape and other terrible things flashed through her mind.
'Someone should have done this, a long time ago,' he said in a low and menacing voice.
'Let me go,' she gasped.
'No way,' he replied, this time he sounded amused, 'not before I am done with you.'
Alexandra had no clear idea what was happening to her and she felt a surge of panic as he took hold of her skirt and pulled it forward. The night air was cold against her bare legs. She tried to turn around, his leg against her belly hurt and she had no intention of staying in this position. But he was stronger and held her in place.
'Matching knickers, how tasteful.' His voice was mocking but sounded much more cheerful now.
Alexandra remembered she had chosen her red silk knickers to match her dress. She had even laughed at herself for the silliness in it, thinking that it wasn't likely someone would get the chance to notice it. Now she knew that John Burden was aware. And perhaps also the two smoking men from the kitchen staff.
Alexandra didn't understand what was going on. Why did he lift her skirt? Was he going to rape her? Surely the two other men would stop him.
He wasted no time. As soon as he had commented on her choice of knickers, she felt his hand grip the waistband of said knickers and pull them down. Now she was scared.
'No, you can't do this,' she cried.
'Oh, yes, I can.'
Whatever she had expected next, it wasn't what occurred. She was completely unprepared for his hand as it landed on her bottom, hard.
She drew her breath. It had hurt. Then he hit her again, this time on the other buttock. It hurt as well. Then again, a little harder this time.
She couldn't believe it. She wasn't going to be raped. She was being spanked. Her head was spinning with shock and disbelief. Then another smack brought her back to a rather painful reality.
'You have had this coming for a long time, I am sure,' he gasped as he landed another stinging blow on her bottom. She jumped. He hit her hard. This was for real. She was being spanked for real and she couldn't get her head around how surreal the situation was.
Then she thought of the two kitchen staff. They must see it all. They must even get a very good view of her naked bottom being smacked. Surely they would interfere?
Nothing happened. Except another smack. And another.
'It hurts,' she wailed, overcome by the sensation and pain.
'It is supposed to hurt.'
Afterwards she realised it hadn't continued for very long, but at the moment it seemed like an eternity. Smack after painful smack landed on her bottom. She couldn't say what was worst, the pain, or the embarrassment, the humiliation of being spanked in a dingy back alley by an arrogant man like John Burden.
Then it was over. He took her by the shoulders and raised her to standing. She turned to him but no words came over her lips. She just stared at him.
He looked at her with something wild in his eyes.
'But,' she finally managed to say, 'but, why?'
'You deserved it,' he said, something of the old arrogance and cockiness returning to him, 'in fact, I am not done with you.'
'What do you mean?' she said, hearing the genuine surprise in her voice.
'You need more. This was just the beginning. Come to me when you are ready for the rest of your punishment. Good night.'
He bowed and turned around and went. She was stunned and stood looking at his back, as he disappeared into the darkness. He was, indeed, a tall and powerful man.
Then she remembered the other two men. She turned and saw them by the door. They were smiling, obviously delighted by the performance they had been witnessing.
She wanted to get away. She turned around and started to walk away. She then felt her knickers, still around her knees. She had to stop and pull them up. She thought she heard the men chuckle, but she didn't stay to listen. She hurried away, away from the back alley, away from the hotel and John Burden, and her humiliation.
She wanted to go home. She didn't even dare to go into the hotel again to collect her coat. As she hurried home she thought she could come back for it later, another day, another life.
She was shivering in the cold autumn night, feeling too exposed, too unclad, for the weather. She wanted to take off her damned heels but she didn't fancy walking on the cold ground on bare feet so she stumbled on.
Life was unfair. She had to walk, having left her purse with her colleagues. There was a spare key, hidden in a flowerpot at home, so she would be able to get in, even if her flatmate was out.
It wasn't just the cold air against her bare legs and shoulders that made her tremble. More than that she was upset. She was choking with anger. She didn't want to think of what had happened in the back alley. It was too terrible, too humiliating.
She wanted to cry. Worse than the anger was her sense of shame, of having been treated like a child. Not that she had ever been spanked as a child but the very idea of this man correcting her, taking the right to show her she was wrong, was preposterous. He was deciding for her what was right and wrong, and then he had the audacity to demonstrate it on her body.
It was a violation, no doubt about that. She should go to the police. It would surely spoil the man's career. He deserved it. In this day and age, a man can't treat a woman like that.
She thought of other times, older times, when the man was the head of the household, when he had the right to chastise his children, servants and wife. When a rule of thumb meant that a man wasn't allowed to beat his wife with a stick thicker than his thumb.
She shook her head. Society had come a long way since then. She should go to the police. She almost stopped and changed direction. She should do it.
Then she thought of it all. She remembered the kitchen staff, the men who had stood smiling and leering at her. They obviously saw it all as a great amusement. Maybe the police would think so too. Of course they would have to take her accusations seriously, but behind her back they would smile at her.
And what happened if the press got hold of the story? Even if John Burden wasn't the celebrity he thought he was, the tabloids would jump at the opportunity. Men all over the country would read about it and smile to themselves. Maybe they would look at their wives and think about the rule of thumb.
Alexandra knew she was being paranoid. Now she saw the whole world populated by men who thought it their right to chastise women, men who only out of politeness granted them civil rights. She knew she was just being upset. But she decided against going to the police. It could wait.
She got home and found that her flatmate was not there. She had to extract the spare key and let herself in.
Alexandra shared her home with another woman, a friend from university. Catherine was a lecturer in Ancient History, blond, tall and confident. She was the kind of woman who could dress in tweed and a pearl necklace, but still show the world that she was an attractive and interesting person. Her confidence and authority didn't scare men away and Alexandra was both amazed and envious.
At this moment, she wanted to confide in Catherine and was miserable that she wasn't there. She had wanted to tell her everything, be comforted by her and listen to the advice she would, surely, give. She needed that. Now she was alone.
She took a long shower, as if she wanted to wash away all the memories of the evening, John Burden's touch, his grip on her arm, his fingers on her knickers, the terrible pulling down of her knickers, and the humiliating spanking he had subjected her too.
She wondered what had gone wrong. He had been so arrogant, so insolent. The worst thing about it all was that he was so very handsome. He really had eyes she could drown in. He was tall and powerful and moved with a grace she had seldom seen in a man. His mouth, when not hardened with arrogance, was lovely and his hands were strong and warm. It was a pity that he should be such a bastard. She hated him.