His Indecent Revelations (Bound and Shackled to the Billionaire BDSM Erotic Romance) Read Free Page B

just water and prayers. He needs antibiotics and an intravenous drip. But she is forced to make do with eighteenth century methods. The little house is sparse and filled only with things for basic living – a kettle, plates, cutlery, and swaths and swaths of cloth. At least she can use some of the cloth for bandages.
    Unless she does something more drastic, Channing will die.
     
    *
     
    Ferreting under the kitchen sink for more detergents to wash the sheets, Susan is struck by a bluish mold that covers the piping.
    Mold.
    There is something she needs to remember about mold. Something eighteenth century people didn’t know and therefore could not harness. But she’s a twenty-first century woman with a twenty-first century education.
    Bluish-green mold. Penicillium notatum.
    Penicillin .
    But the mold here isn’t refined. It is raw and unprocessed, and possibly filled with minute impurities that can render Channing sicker than he already is. Or possibly even give him a severe allergic reaction which can kill him.
    Nevertheless, it is the only chance she has to do something different – to stop him from sinking into the eternal pit of his own uncompromising hell. Her spirit lights with the flames of hope for the first time in days.
    With vigor, she scrapes the mold off, mixes it with water and drips the concoction through his withered lips.
    And kneels by his bed to pray.

5
     
    Susan wakes up to a rustling sound.
    She snaps open her eyes in alarm. The last time this has happened, she woke up in a strange and foreign place. But she is lying on the floor of the cottage on a makeshift mattress, her back stiff and her bones sore. The shadow of Channing’s sickbed still looms ominously beside her.
    A hand moves down to caress her hair. And a pair of beautiful blue eyes gazes down at her lovingly.
    “Got anything to eat?” Channing says with a weak smile.
     
    *
     
    Slowly, Susan rehabilitates him. He is still extremely weak and his limbs have lost all their muscle tone. So she makes him eat in increasing proportions. And she helps him to do toning exercises to build up his body strength again.
    Every day, Channing asks to see Hugh. And every day, the burqa-clad woman makes the same negative gesture – she blesses herself, shakes her head and scuttles away.
    “I guess they intend to keep us prisoner here for a long, long time,” Channing remarks.
    “You don’t seem overly upset.”
    “We’ll get out of here somehow.”
    “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
    He flashes her a sad little smile. “I’m afraid that if I tell you, they’d torture it out of you. So it’s best I don’t tell you until it’s time.”
    He reaches out to stroke her face. His gestures are tender.
    “I’d die if anything happened to you,” he says softly.
    Likewise, she thinks. But she doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to jinx it.
    Strangely enough, she is glad for this time they have together. She has never really had the time to get to know Channing before. He had always been her distant boss for many years. And then he had been her dom in their brief and weird dominant-submissive relationship. But now for the first time, he is becoming her true lover.
    She is getting to know him inside and out, exploring the deepest reaches of his mind.
    There is so much she wants to know about him, but she touches only on aspects not pertaining to his Iraqi past. Her mind has imposed a barrier. I don’t really want to know . . . because the more I know, the more miserable I will be. She is happy with knowing what she knows right now, and she prefers to maintain the pristine knight-in-shining-armor image of Channing that she has right now.
    Yes, maintain the fantasy. Be damned with the past. Because she is certain that his innate goodness will prevail. Surely a man can’t have changed all that much from what he was ten years ago? He must have been good then, as he is good now. Anyhow, he is who he is today – and she