The Chinese Lantern Bride Ch. 02

"An artist impression of Yang Gui Fei, the epitome of Chinese beauty."

"Yes," Gianna swallowed. She looked nothing like the lady in the painting and from the way his eyes roamed over her form, she was sure that he had considered this as well. "She is beautiful."

Turning to face her, Anthony placed both his hands on her shoulders.

"And you are beautiful, too."

Tucking a stray hair behind her ear gently, he leaned towards her. For a moment, Gianna wondered if he was going to kiss her. Instead, he whispered into her ear.

"In your own different way."

Shit. Before she could truly experience the fear that coursed through her veins, he was leading her through a great room with a large fireplace and a leather sofa set. The walls were lined with bookshelves and paintings that obviously originated from China. A large crystal chandelier hang as the centrepiece of the room.

"This is the penthouse. It is my private home within this hotel."

Tilting his head towards the door on the right, he told her, "That door leads to the bedroom."

"But for now," he continued as he led her towards the door on the left. "I thought we'd have our conversation in my study.

Retrieving a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door with a decisive click.

"Right this way," he gestured for her to follow him.

Stepping in, Gianna walked into the room and gasped. The room looked like a museum, with a range of oddly intimidating knick knacks, some hanging on the wall and others placed in glass displays. There was a large marble desk in the dead centre on the room and a leather armchair on either side. Sitting on one, Anthony waved her towards the other.

"Please take a seat." Gianna eyed him warily as she perched herself on the oversized chair. His words were polite but there was an edge of steel behind them which made her nervous.

"So," Anthony leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs in a lazy fashion. "Where should we begin? I want to know more about my lovely bride to be."

Her heart thumping an odd rhythm in her chest, Gianna replied, "As do I about you."

"Fantastic," there was something a little unsettling about his broad grin. "Before we start, there's just something you should know about me."

Anthony leaned forward in his chair, beckoning her closer. Gianna shuffled to the edge of her seat, unable to take her eyes off that hypnotic blue gaze.

"I don't like liars."

Frozen on the spot, she dug her fingernails into her palm so hard that she was surprised she didn't break her skin.

Anthony sudden snort of laughter made Gianna jump.

"Well, that's not exactly an exciting way to begin this little tête-à-tête, is it?"

Gianna forced herself to laugh along. Oh, he was an unsettling man, going from scary seriousness to mischievous mirth.

"I do apologize, lovely one. I'm an old fogey. In fact, my daughter is always taking the piss on me."

"Your daughter, sir?" Gianna brightened. "Was she the little one I met at the lobby?"

"Oh goodness, no. No, my daughter is a mother herself. She's perhaps some seasons younger than you. You are twenty, aren't you?"

Surprised, Gianna nodded. She had estimated that he was quite a bit older than herself, but this was unexpected. He's old enough to be my father? Try as she might, she couldn't prevent the slightest curl of her lip.

"Does that bother you?" Anthony cocked his head to the side. "Knowing that I am so many years your senior?"

"No, Mr Davies. It... it doesn't bother me in the slightest."

Gianna jumped as Anthony pounded his fist on the table. "Remember what I said," he enunciated each word deliberately. "I. Don't. Like. Liars."

Feeling her temper rise despite herself, Gianna snapped. "Then yes, it does unsettle me, knowing that you're probably as old as my father."

Anthony laughed, throwing his head back. "Well, well. The little sparrow has some bite to her. Don't worry, Gianna. I might be forty, but I can assure you that I am in excellent health, both mentally and physically. My finances are well in order, as is my reputation in this town. You will be very well taken of, if I marry you."

Gianna snorted inwardly. She had serious doubts about his mental health, given his somewhat psychotic mood swings. However, it was the word "if" that fixated her. If I marry you, he had said, not when.

Opening his desk drawer, Anthony retrieved a set of documents. "This is the marriage paperwork. Our signatures on this will confirm our matrimony. Half of my assets will be in your name, and the rest of it will be divided amongst Annie and any children we might have."

Children! Gianna almost choked. She wondered how she hadn't thought about something so obvious. She had been worrying so much about keeping up this face that it never occurred to her that motherhood was something quite close in the horizon.

"Now," Anthony held his pen over the paper. "I need to fill in our names, so it would very much oblige me if you could tell me your name."

Lifting her eyebrows, Gianna stammered. "My... my name? I thought I told it to you."

Anthony cocked his head. "I'm an old man, remember?" He stared at her unwaveringly. "Your name, please."

Taking a deep breath, Gianna looked him straight in the eye.

"My name is Feng Ling."

++++++++

Anthony threw his pen down on the table, watching in satisfaction as the girl jumped. Despite his anger, he couldn't help feeling impressed by her vigor in sticking to her little tale. He had been deliberately unsettling but somehow, she had always recovered her composure. Was she doing this for money? Was she a seasoned con woman?

Walking over to her slowly, he stared her down. She looked so tiny and fragile in the chair.

"I'll give you one last chance. What is your name?"

In spite of the slight tremor that animated her white face, the girl's voice was steady as she spoke.

"My name," she repeated. "Is Feng Ling."

His temper flaring, Anthony pulled the girl to her feet, ignoring her gasp of surprise and pain as he drew her close to him.

"You must think me a fool," he said with his jaw clenched. "To think I would fall for your little tale. You're as Chinese as I am a talking frog."

"Let me go," she struggled against his iron grip. "You're hurting me."

Anthony barked in laughter. "Hurting you?" This girl is going to be so easy to break. Gathering her up in his arms, he sat back on the table as he laid her face down across his knee. She struggled against him wildly as he pinned her down on his lap. The short skirt of her dress rose up high above her upper thighs, offering a tantalizing peek of her bottom. He felt his groin awakening with interest.

"I have given numerous chances to own up to your deceit," he said, satisfied as he felt her stiffen. "But fine. I'll give you one final chance to convince me that you are who you say you are."

"Let me up," her voice was strained as she tried to turn her head towards him. "Let me up, and we can have a decent conversation about this."

Thwak!

The girl squealed as he brought his hand down sharply upon her shapely derriere.

"The time for mutual respect is over. Say your piece, or I will discipline the truth out of you."

When the girl spoke again, her voice was laced with anger.

"I am Feng Ling. My mother is Italian, and my father is Chinese. I have my mother's eyes and my father's name."

She cried out, as his palm went down again.

"My contact spoke with your mother on the telephone," Anthony lied colourfully and he took pleasure at how she paused her struggling. Obviously, this was news to her. "Seems funny to me that an Italian lady would master Chinese so perfectly that there was no trace of an Italian accent in her voice. Unlike you, I must add."

He could almost hear the gears in the girl's head whirring as she replied, "She met my father in China so it's no wonder that she picked up the language there. Mr Davies, I must ask that you let me up so that we may speak like civilized humans."

Anthony seethed. He wasn't sure which outraged him more: her blatant lies, or her petulant little demands. He slipped his hand under her skirt and drew the fabric up over her naked behind. He marvelled at the smoothness of her olive skin that bore a slight reddish flush. He caressed a full butt cheek and squeezed it softly. Her bottom was so perky and full that he could feel his erection straining at his pants. At the sound of her outraged gasp, he brought his hand down on her naked behind, much harder than before.

"Let me make this clear," he soothed her wounded skin with the back of his hand. "You, my lovely, are in no positions to make demands."

Pain seemed to make her braver than before as she snapped, "You, Mr Davies, are nothing but a brute."

"A brute, am I?" Anthony laughed in surprise.

"Yes," she spoke clearly and slowly. "I must demand that you let me go."

"And that I will," he agreed sombrely. "Just as soon as you tell me the truth."

"I have told you nothing but the truth," she insisted.

"Fine," Anthony felt a surge of need to own this lying little tart. "Have it your way."

He reached across his desk for his favourite bedroom tool -- a wooden paddle. He brushed the smooth polished surface over her bum that was now patterned with red hand marks.

"This is how we discipline our women in the west," he whispered bringing the paddle down on her with a satisfying loud thwack as she screamed.

++++++++

Gianna could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks as she screamed in pain. Her face burned with anger and shame as she kicked her legs in a wild attempt to inflict some form of damage on him. Any favoured notions that she had of him were long gone. It took every ounce of strength and resolve to remember why she had to stick to her story and be married to this brute instead of following every instinct in her body to run away, as far as she could.

As she kicked out, she took a savage satisfaction as her legs finally came into contact with his shin, causing him to cry out.

"Why, you little wildcat."

Blow after blow descended upon her injured behind, and each smack of the paddle left a stinging impact that burned. She felt as though her skin was on fire as every nerve was awakened and ablaze by the assault on her delicate skin.

All of a sudden, the spanking stopped. The room was filled with silence, save for the sounds of her heavy breathing as Anthony rubbed his hands over her sore behind. His touch was gentle, almost a welcome caress on her wounded skin.

"Are you ready to sing, little sparrow?"

Before she could stop herself, she snapped, "Are you ready to let me go?"

"I will, just as soon as you admit to your deceit."

Taking a deep breath, Gianna sent a silent prayer to the heavens for mercy as she said firmly, "I am Feng Ling, your sore, beleaguered and shamed bride."

"Sore and beleaguered you are," Anthony continued to molest her, alternating between caresses and squeezes. "But do you know shame?"

His hands wandered downwards, and she twitched in alarm as it came into contact with her woman parts ever so gently.

"Anthony," she said urgently, her distress rising as she guessed at his intent. "You must let me go."

Ignoring her plea, he caressed her the soft folds of her vulva softly. In spite of herself, she felt a heat pooling around the area. It caused her discomfort, but in a much different way. She blushed in frustration and shame. No one had ever touched her there, and yet here he was, brazen as day. His fingers were soft in their touch, yet rough in the calluses formed from his daily work. She had never experienced such strange sensations against her virgin flesh.

All of a sudden, he unexpectedly slapped her outer lips causing her to cry out. It was more the shock at the outrageous act since he hadn't used remotely as much force as he had on her behind. Despite the fact that it didn't hurt as much, this seemed even more degrading and she redoubled her efforts to get away. Her struggles were punctuated with more slaps to that area and she gave in to the sobs that racked at her.

"Stop this," she wept, angry tears coursing down her face.

"Stop. Lying. To. Me."

She shook her head, squirming and struggling against his iron grasp.

"For heaven's sake," he shouted. "Tell me the truth or I swear I will send you back."

Gianna froze as her worst fear put into words.

"Anthony, no," she whispered. "You can't send me back."

"Oh, but I will."

Thoughts raced through her head. From the resolution in his voice, she knew that he meant what he said. It was also clear that she could repeat her lie a thousand times, in a thousand different ways and he wouldn't accept her story. It left her with one final option. She slumped in resignation.

"Fine," she said softly. "My name is Gianna Delucca."

++++++++

Anthony felt a sense of relief mingled with triumph. Finally, he had her confession.

"And who are you, Gianna Delucca? Are you an accomplished con woman? A practitioner of deceit? A wannabe Catalogue Woman?" He asked her sore behind that was starting to bruise beautifully. Patches of purpling pink flowered across her soft skin, and he knew that she was going to have trouble sitting tomorrow.

She bristled, as though out of indignation.

"I am none of those! I did this to help my family," she bit off a sob. "My friend had this arrangement made, only it was against her will. She agreed to give me the money I needed to treat my father's illness if I agreed to take her place."

"You did this for your father?" Anthony frowned.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice so soft he almost couldn't hear her.

"He's dreadfully ill, and my mother didn't have the money for his treatment. I was slated to be a governess but the agency ran away with my savings, so I couldn't send her what she needed."

Despite himself, Anthony felt a twinge of pity. Still, he had to press on. "And so you decided the best thing to do was to lie? Have you no respect?"

"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I don't have the money to pay off the settlement if you broke off the arrangement. I had to try, even if it was all in vain."

Anthony lifted her off his knee and helped her stand. Her face was tearstained and flushed, whether with distress, shame or anger, he couldn't tell. Perhaps it was a mixture of the three. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face towards his. Her tear stained eyes looked up at him, flashing with anger.

"At least I know that I've tried my best. Perhaps the hunger and homelessness wouldn't be so bad."

Try as she might, her voice held a tremor. He could tell that despite the bravado in her voice, she had a genuine fear of what would happen if he turned away.

Anthony was torn. On one hand, she had been out to deceive him and she was annoyingly rude. On the other hand, her story raised some sympathy in him. Years of interacting with people from all walks of life had cultivated his uncanny talent to know when people were lying. She was finally telling the truth.

Besides, it did help that he found her incredibly attractive. She was physically beautiful, that was obvious, but there was something else that drew him to her. Perhaps it was her bravery, or that sheer will in her. Either way, he had made up his mind. Turning away from her, he walked back to his desk.

"I'll sign the papers."

She was so silent, that he had to lift his head to look at her. Her face was alight with astonishment.

"What did you say?" She wondered aloud.

"I'll accept you as my wife, Gianna Delucca." He signed the paper with a flourish and beckoned her over. Wincing as she made her way over to him, she picked up the pen he offered her and signed her name in a delicate script next to his.

"There. Now we are husband and wife," he gathered the papers into a neat pile and placed them back in his drawer. He eyed her dishevelled form.

"Did you pack anything else other than ridiculous outfit?"

Anthony fought a smile as he could see her visibly struggle to not retort back at him.

"Yes," she forced a smile. "I packed a dress or two of my own in my suitcase."

"I'll show you to the bedroom. There is a tub in there that you may use to freshen up. I'll have your suitcase sent up."

Leading her to the bedroom, he stepped back as he opened the door for her.

"Thank you, Mr Davies." Again, he could hear the slightest hint of a sarcastic bite in her polite words. No doubt she still held the spanking against him. Oh, she was such a delightful challenge. For the first time, he was happy that she had been sent to him instead of the Chinese bride his friend had ordered. He couldn't resist another jibe at her.

"Oh please," he laughed. "Call me Anthony. I must say, I rather enjoy hearing my name coming out of your lips, especially when uttered with such emotion."

He saw the surprise and outrage ripple across her face as she took in the meaning behind his words.

"Have a good bath, my new wife."

He smiled as she entered the room and slammed the door behind her.

Oh this was going to be fun.