Devlin finally put down his paper and leaned over, picking up his coffee cup. It was made of elegant china, gold rimmed. He took a sip and put it back down in the delicate saucer and then looked up at her.
“Good morning, Anna,” he said, almost cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?” The sound of Devlin’s voice shattered Anna’s resolve to be strong. Tears welled up inside her. She nodded dolefully at the man’s pleasantry and murmured a stifled, “Yes, Mr. Devlin.” The sound of her strangled voice made her swoon with shame.
“I see that you’ve been a naughty girl,” the man continued. “Did you learn your lesson?”
Anna was not sure whether the man was referring to her bound hands, her gag, or the red stripes that she wore across her breasts, belly and thighs. Probably all three. Her unhappy answer
