Page 71 of Hard Lessons

“The police would have found it. I’m not disputing hiding most of it wasn’t a good idea. My problem is that you spent it all.”

Serena was silent. An idea was forming. A way out of her spanking and a way to realize a future for them.

If he’d even listen, if he’d even contemplate a life without crime.

She sucked in a breath. There was only one thing for it and that was to lay her cards on the table. Luca was the man for her, she knew that, and changing a man wasn’t an option—unless he wanted to change that was.

“What if I tell you something,” she said.

“Tell me what?” He finished his coffee and set his mug aside.

“That I only spent half the money.”

He laughed. “Then you’d only get fifty spanks. Half the amount you owe my palm.”

Serena frowned. “No, I don’t want any.”

“You’re getting one hundred. That’s the punishment for spending two hundred thousand pounds, woman. Really it should be two hundred but I’m being lenient considering the already delicate situation your ass has found itself in.”

She stood, scraping the chair legs on the floor. Setting her palms on the table, she leaned forward, so their noses almost touched. “Fifty spanks if I show you one hundred thousand pounds, right now.”

“What are you saying?”

“Agree to my deal, Luca.”

He shot his hand to her ass and squeezed.

Serena gasped and clenched her buttocks.

“You don’t have one hundred thousand pounds.”

“Try me.” She tightened her jaw. A swarm of pain traveled over her ass cheeks. “Go on. I dare you.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Okay. Half the spanks if you produce half the money. Right here. Right now.” He released her and sat back.

Triumph ballooned in her chest as she marched to the bedroom. She snatched up her bag and returned to the table by the window.

“Clear this.” She nodded at the breakfast stuff.

Luca quickly stacked the tray then set it aside.

“One. Hundred. Thousand. Pounds.” She pulled the zipper on her bag then tipped it upside down.

Her purse rattled to the table along with her cell phone minus its sim card. A lipstick, a small container with an emergency tampon, her Kindle, and a Big Ben keyring, no key. Then a plastic bag, within it, rolled up tight with a red elastic band, a wad of cash, then another and another. Soon they were piling on top of each other and rolling to the edge of the table.

“What the fuck?” Luca stood. He picked up a roll and ripped open the bag. He took out the money and snapped the elastic band. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“No. You told me never to joke about money.”

“Fuck,” he muttered again, peeling a note from the wad in his hand. He held it up to the window.

“It’s real,” she said.

“Si, it is.”

“One hundred thousand pounds. Enough to start a new life.”

He turned to her with a frown. “And you were going to take this on a plane to the United States. You really think it would have gotten through security... customs?”

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