Blushing Cheeks Volume 1

Blushing Cheeks: Volume One The Good Man by Carolyn Faulkner Cade by Paige Tyler Her Personal Trainer by Starla Kaye Copyright 2010 by Blushing Books

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Copyright © 2010 by Blushing Books 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. Published by Blushing Books ®, a subsidiary of ABCD Graphics and Design 977 Seminole Trail #233 Charlottesville, VA 22901 The trademark Blushing Books ® is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office. Carolyn Faulkner, Paige Tyler, and Starla Kaye Blushing Cheeks: Volume One eBook ISBN 978-1-935152-99-6 print book ISBN: 978-1-60968-045-9 Cover Design: ABCD Graphics and Design

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Thank you for purchasing Blushing Cheeks: Volume One from Blushing Books. We hope you’ll really enjoy this collection of three complete novellas from three of our top authors. These are not some short samples - this is three novellas, sixteen chapters, over 60,000 words - for 99cents. Why are we doing this? Because we want you to try our books and our authors at almost no risk to you! Blushing Books publishes romances… with a twist. If you love old-fashioned romances where the feisty heroine ends up not only in the hero’s bed for hot loving, but occasionally over his knee for some even hotter (and usually well-deserved) spanking, our novels and novellas are for you! Do you want to know if he can REALLY tame that brat? You’re in the right place. After each novella, you’ll find a list of more novels and novellas by that author. Or.. you can visit our website at BlushingBooks.com to see everything we have available. Enjoy!

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Table of Contents The Good Man by Carolyn Faulkner Cade by Paige Tyler Her Personal Trainer by Starla Kaye

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6 29 83

The Good Man by Carolyn Faulkner

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Chapter One Oh, the joys of summer, Emily Robertson sighed, cursing the heat and blowing a long breath up her face trying to dislodge the bangs that were sticking determinedly to her forehead as she made a mad dash for the elevator. It was her annual pilgrimage to City Hall to register her car, and she had barely made it. The clerk had put up her closed sign right after he finished collecting an exorbitant amount of Emily’s hard earned money – it was, after all, five o’clock in the afternoon. Heaven forbid he should have to stay late, and perish the thought that Riverside should actually decide to drag itself kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century and offer online registration – oh no, that would be waaaaay too convenient for residents of the sacred "County". Gotta see how many parking tickets we can issue when people give up fighting for the one available space within ninety miles of the building . . . She was still mumbling angrily to herself, preoccupied with the trip down there that ate into the whole five seconds of vacation she got annually from the Bank as she stepped into the elevator, turned, and punched the button for the lobby. It took her a few seconds to register that she was not alone, and to realize, to her horror, that she knew the other person who was standing just a scant few feet behind her, and he was the last person in the world that she wanted to be alone in an elevator with, even for the few seconds – well, with this building being the oldest in town, more likely a few minutes – that it took to get to the ground floor. Well, she thought, standing straighter than before, I’ll live through it and go on with my day. Emily wasn’t about to let running into Daniel "Mac" MacGregor spoil the rest of the day . . . Oh, but she could feel those baby blues boring into her back . . . at least, she hoped it was her back, anyway, frowning. Emily was concentrating so hard on not letting him bother her while she singlehandedly willed the elevator the strength to speed the twelve floors to the lobby in the blink of an eye, that she jumped when his familiar bass rumble caressed her ears. "Shouldn’t I be the one who’s not talking to you?" Emily felt a familiar wrenching ache in her stomach at his dead-on comment. "Aren’t you even going to say ‘hi’?" Reaching for an innocence that she never could pull off, especially not with him, Emily turned and feigned surprise. "Oh, Daniel. Hello, I didn’t see you there." The perfect, cool tone. Good going, girl! One bushy gray brow rose to practically cling to the bill of his ever-present baseball cap – this one advertised that he was an assistant-chief and volunteer fireman at the Gouger Hill Station in Powell, which was a rural settlement outside of town. His full mustache turned down at the corners, and his chin sank to his chest as he locked eyes with her. In that instant she knew that he knew that she had just out-and-out lied to him. A shiver ran up Emily’s spine at what that would have once meant: dire consequences for her bottom when they got home. Within seconds of entering his big rambling farmhouse, before she got more than two steps away from him, she’d’ve been upended over his lap, her panties would have been around her ankles with his hand lighting into her bare, vulnerable bottom like he meant business, and he always did. 7

There was no escaping a determined man that size, darn it. Oh, he had always been exquisitely careful of her; always very conscious of his own strength and the differences in their sizes. Mac had never, ever hurt her any other way but to spank her. That was quite enough for Emily, thank you very much! He always had her crying and begging within the first five strokes; and his damned hand was so big it covered her whole butt in one whack – Another shiver she did her best to suppress - without much success - jerked her out of her reverie. "Hello, Em," he drawled, leaning back against the wall of the lift, one blue-jeaned leg bent so that the sole of his huge, construction-booted foot was flat on the wall, the other leg straight, with those huge arms crossed over an impressive chest, striking a typically masculine pose that indicated that he hadn’t a care in the world. Emily frowned at his habit of shortening her name, which Mac knew well and good that she hated – it made her sound like "Auntie Em" from The Wizard of Oz, and she wasn’t anywhere near that old! He did it deliberately – not much came out of Mac any way other than slowly and deliberately, even in the bedroom – she stopped herself right there before her mind wandered a little too far down that dangerous trail. Lacking anything else to say, and desperately not wanting to get into any kind of conversation with the hunk of seething testosterone that lurked casually behind her, Emily’s eyes darted away from his to stare anywhere but at him. She noted that the carpeting needed to be vacuumed, that the paneling looked old and weary – surprise, surprise – and she ended up concentrating on the display of floors they were slowly creeping past. Ten . . . Nine . . . Eight – Lurch! Jangle! Lur – Jangle! Eight and three quarters . . . Eight and a half . . . Eight and a quarter . . . The elevator stopped, dead in its tracks. The unexpected turbulence threw Emily back against Mac and he reached out to catch her against him one-armed, letting her use him as a cushion to stop her fall as he used his other arm to steady himself. And what a cushion . . . Emily was thinking. He didn’t have much more give to him than the wall did, hardbody that he was, and she blushed because she knew that wasn’t a banana in his pocket; he’d always been quite happy to see her. Mac, however, was thinking about how much he’d missed having her in his arms. Emily lay full against him, and probably realized that he was aroused, as always around her. It was a condition he’d learned to accept, once upon a time, back when he’d had the right to do something about it. Now it was just a nuisance reaction to the tantalizing memory of her softness, and that teasingly familiar floral scent of one of her multitude of perfumes. Mac remembered the first time he saw the her vanity in her room, the pink marble top covered with bottles and bottles of different sizes and shapes, each one a favorite perfume. She was like the Baskin-Robbins of perfume, he’d thought, only Emily probably had more than just thirty-one flavors. Maybe she was more like that famed "box of chocolates". When he’d pressed his mouth to that shivery spot on her neck, burying his nose just behind her ear and breathing deeply, he never knew what intoxicating fragrance he was gonna get. Their ride started to rock in place a little, creaking so loudly that Emily let go of him and put her hands over her ears until she felt his foot hook around her calf, pressing firmly until he’d knocked her off her feet. She couldn’t control the squeal of pure terror 8

that escaped her mouth as she started to fall backwards, but then she realized that Mac was in complete control of their descent, following her down and making sure that she landed gently on a combination of him and the floor. Emily was all right with that, until he started to position himself on top of her. "What the hell do you think you’re doing, Daniel?" she fairly screamed at him, her hands pressing uselessly against his chest while she tried to squirm away. It was like trying to scramble out from under a ton of bricks. At first the only answer she got was a deeply satisfied male grin, but as her struggles became more panicked, Mac calmed her by saying, "We’re on the floor because with all of this jarring we’ll end up there anyway. Might’s well get there unharmed. I’m on top of you so that if something – like the roof – of this thing comes down, it’ll hit my back and not you." Leave it to him to mange being both practical and annoying at the same time, Emily thought nastily. Mac adjusted himself a little, unabashedly taking advantage of the fact that during her struggles, her legs had naturally come open and the green and purple flowered jersey dress she was wearing had ridden up most conveniently. He settled himself more firmly into the natural cradle of her hips, feeling as if he had come home after a long absence. Emily drew a startled breath when his zippered prominence made direct contact with her barely-there summer panties. "I don’t care if the fucking world is coming to an end," came the angry hiss from between clenched teeth. "Get off me!" "Watch your language, young lady," Mac warned automatically. There was a time when he would have done a lot more than just say something to her . . . A long second passed as he noted her flush – which was not all from anger – and the almost frightened look in her eyes. Her tone was just shy of hysterical, and it made him frown – she’d never been afraid of him before, why now, he wondered. As soon as he shouldered himself to one side, Emily was off and across the room – all of five feet away - gathering herself into a ball in the corner and hugging her knees to her chest. Mac got up and went over to the panel that housed the numbers to push for each floor, and flipped open a compartment beneath them, revealing a phone. After a long moment, someone answered that he apparently knew – of course - and he gave their status, letting the person on the other end know that they were physically all right. "Okay, well, get to us as soon as you can, buddy." After putting the phone back in its compartment, he took a seat leaning against the nearest wall, one leg drawn up with his wrist dangling over his knee, just watching her, which was a long-standing favorite pastime of his. Emily didn’t know why she’d reacted that way to Mac. It wasn’t as if she thought he was going to rape her or anything. She knew he was too honorable a man to even contemplate doing something like that, and besides, she admitted ruthlessly to herself, it wouldn’t have been rape regardless. And if it wasn’t Mac she was afraid of, then the logical conclusion was that she was scared of herself – that she liked being beneath him with the proof that he was still attracted to her pressing against what she knew for a fact was a pair of rapidly dampening panties. Crap, crap, crap! Of all the people to be trapped in friggin’ elevator with, it was just her luck that it was the devastatingly sexy man she’d dumped two years go!

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Chapter 2 Mac and Emily had grown up together. Their families’ farms were side by side, and their parents were best friends, so they naturally grew up playing together – everything from football to pretend weddings. If play weddings counted, they’d been married since they were about six and four, respectively. Mac always knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life – he wanted to be a farmer, and he made no apologies about it. There would be no college for him; he didn’t need it. His father would teach him everything he needed to know to be a successful farmer in Northern Maine. Why waste the money, when he could be banking it? Mac was the only one of John, Sr. and his wife, Susan’s children that showed any interest in farming. Although the rest of them didn’t much want to leave "The County", they didn’t want anything to do with farming. Allie, the oldest, went to the University of Maine at Presque Isle, got a degree in Elementary Education, had a job for one school year then got married to her high school sweetheart and was happily pregnant and unemployed by the end of the next year. J.R. – John Harrison MacGregor, Junior (or "Number two", as his older brother liked to call him teasingly) came next, and he became a fireman for the town of Riverside as soon as it was legal, which was, his father had hated to admit, another long standing family tradition. J.R. already knew most of the crew at the station he was joining – there were two uncles, three cousins, and assorted other kin already working there. The youngest in the family was little Eileen, who was almost a decade younger than the rest of the children. It was Mac who latched onto the idea that she was an unexpected package – if much loved and doted on - and he insisted to this day on calling her "Surprise", much to her consternation. Emily only had one sister, Tammy, who was married to a long-haul trucker. Although their family was small, they were very close, and Emily and her sister had stayed close even after their parents died. Despite her idyllic childhood, Emily had wanted out. She wanted to see more than Maine provided: broccoli and potato fields and black fly filled summers, and the inside of the house and fourteen-foot snow banks all winter. She wanted to travel and meet people and learn exotic things and get into trouble, which she did regularly enough right at home, anyway, but not the adventurous kind of trouble. No one around her but her Mother could understand her desperate need to get away from all of this smothering familiarity . . . most especially not Mac, who was all set to propose to her on the day she turned eighteen, until he had a long talk with Emily’s father. Charles Robertson was the only other man Mac had met that he respected as much as his father. He had built his family farm up into something to be proud of, honestly, with sweat and hard work and pure love of the land. But Charles also knew human nature, and he knew his daughter better than most. She had her mother’s wanderlust. Oh, Diane had never and would never give him a cause to worry that she was going to up and leave him and skitter across the country in wild abandon. But he knew that she’d always had a hankering to do more and see more than she’d seen in her life, and she’d passed 10

that insatiable curiosity for what was around the next corner in the road on to her youngest. Not that Diane was unhappy. Far from it. But he’d seen the travel ads she drooled over in the Sunday Monitor, although he never heard a peep from her about it. So Charles had counseled the young man, whom he knew had an engagement ring burning a hole in his jeans pocket, to give his intended some room before pouncing on her with ring in hand. He knew that if Emily stayed here and got married to Mac right out of school, she might grow to resent him for not letting her go and do as much as she could, while she had the chance. Charles also knew that, deep down, home and family were as important to his little girl as it was to Mac, and he had no doubt that she’d be back, sooner than later, and Mac could pop the question then – to a more mature, contented, and well-traveled young woman. So, with her parents’ enthusiastic blessing and Mac’s reluctant one, Emily had gone to college in Boston to study French and Spanish and any other language they would let her near. She’d always had an ear for languages, and graduated summa cum laude four years later, while Mac impatiently bided his time and monopolized hers every break from school. But instead of coming home after graduation, which was what they had talked about, albeit as casually as Mac could put it, she got a grant and went to live in Paris for six months, then moved to Madrid for the same length of time, returning home almost a year later than Mac would have said she should have. Now, Mac was usually a pretty affable person. Not verbose by any means, but generally easy going with a wickedly dry sense of humor. He was soft spoken and had excellent manners, and was most especially courteous to women, thanks to his Mom. But the affable side of his personality disappeared entirely during the time that Emily chose to be away from him and her family, doing nothing, as far as he was concerned, that had anything to do with getting an education. He was ornery as a bear with hemorrhoids; his normal good nature completely vanished until Emily rushed home from Spain when her Dad had a heart attack, and, despite her best intentions to the contrary, she ended up settling in and getting a teaching job at the local high school so she could be close enough to do her share of caretaking for her ailing parents. Emily was miserable about having to move back, but resigned to her fate. She had tried to escape, but had been dragged back by the fickle finger of fate, and now it looked like she’d be here for a while. Mac, on the other hand, was over the moon, and instantaneously easy to live with again, which made his family heave a collective sigh of relief. They picked right up again where they’d left off, with Mac monopolizing her time every moment that he could spare from the farm and she could spare from her parents and work. They generally went out Friday and Saturday nights, or stayed home together and watched movies, and he usually found some reason to see her mid-week. Mac would never be the type to give her cards or flowers unexpectedly, or to be overly affectionate, but he did remember her birthday and Valentine’s Day without any prompting from her. Emily and Tammy took turns taking care of their parents until they could no longer give them the care that they needed, and then they found the best nursing home they could. Mac helped as much as possible, growing more and more concerned as Emily became more and more worn down by the long jaunt back and forth every evening to see her parents after working a full day at school. He wanted to make things as easy as he 11

could on her, so he suggested that she move in with him at the farm. His mom and dad had passed several years ago, and none of the other siblings wanted the family business, so he had bought them all out and now it was his alone. Mac’s pride of ownership shown in the way everything was taken care of. A drill sergeant would have been proud of how clean the barns and silos were – heck, you could practically eat off the floor, if you really wanted to. But the house was big, and Mac wanted a family to fill it – a wife and eventually some kids. When he thought of starting his own family, he always thought of Emily. He’d never considered that any other woman would be the mother of his children. It was her or no one. And he was bound and determined that it would be her. Together, they decided that she would come live with him, and Mac moved her in himself, in between his own chores. Emily helped by boxing up as much stuff as she could, but she staunchly refused to touch anything that was her parents, as if she expected them to get better and return to the house that they had built and filled full of love for so many years. He found her there one afternoon when he returned from running a truckload of things over to his place – she was kneeling in the middle of the living room, a photo album from better times open on her lap, her head buried in her hands. Mac hadn’t hesitated a second, hunkering down and wrapping his big body around her, holding her tight and rocking her as she cried. That was enough for him. He had let her stay in the house until the very last moment, but this was it. She was with him now, from that day on, as far as he was concerned. When they brought the last load of the day over to the farm, he helped her out of the truck and into the big open kitchen, where he had a big pot of chowdah going, knowing she wouldn’t want anything too heavy. Hell, she’d barely been eating anything lately, she was so depressed. Mac ladled a couple of scoops into a small bowl for her, then got a bigger bowl and filled it for himself. There was bread on the table as well as Diet Coke for her and iced tea for him. Emily only took a couple of bites before pushing the bowl away, even though she adored his thick, creamy clam chowdah. Nothing much got by him, especially anything that concerned her. He didn’t want to jump all over her, but she needed to eat. Tempering his tone so that it was a cajoling growl, he said, "You’ve got to eat more than that." "No, I don’t." Her pouting lip was visible a half a mile away. Well, her parents might have put up with that – not often, but to more of an extent than Mac ever would – but he wasn’t going to have any of it, and now was as good a time as any for her to realize that fact. "Emily." The cajoling note was gone, and only the warning was left. Although she was pretty much numb, Emily was still smart enough not to push him. Daniel MacGregor on a tear was as dangerous as a bull moose in rut, and when he wanted something he got it, one way or another – not by making a fuss or yelling or screaming, simply by force of personality . . . and the fact that she knew he had a hard palm he wasn’t in the least afraid of applying to her bottom at the slightest provocation. Being the older of the two of them, he’d been in charge of riding herd over her for so long that he’d grown up spanking her occasionally, and her parents had never questioned his judgment – Mac had always been disgustingly level-headed and mature for his age. Practical. Responsible. Downright stodgy, even. 12

Unbidden, tears flooded her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, breaking his heart in half but not his will. "Just eat a couple of more spoonfuls, baby. Then I’ll put you to bed." Emily snuffled and blew her nose on a paper napkin, reluctantly taking a very small spoonful of the thick soup until he cleared his throat and she brought up a healthier helping. "You can’t put me to bed until you take me home, Mac." "You are home, darlin’. I made sure I brought over your nighties and undies and some clothes for school tomorrow and some jeans and t-shirts and your toiletries. You’re staying here from now on, where you belong." He’d cleaned his own bowl and got up to get another helping, the matter settled in the best manner possible, as far as he was concerned. Truthfully, Emily was too tired to argue the point . . . now. That’s how Mac knew how really wiped she was. If she had been her normal self, she’d’ve lit into him for having the audacity to do all of that without getting her okay first. Well, she’d learn to live with it. In his house, with him. She could get as riled as she wanted, as long as she climbed into his bed at the end of the day, and as long as it didn’t get vulgar or disrespectful. They had never slept together – not out of any sort of antiquated morals, but more out of respect for her parents. And they certainly wouldn’t be doing anything physical tonight, that was for sure, but that was also fine with Mac. He would be content - for now - just having her next to him. After he made sure that she had downed a few more goodsized spoonfuls of chowdah, he took her hand and led her upstairs to the master bedroom, which was fairly large but still dominated by the huge California King bed. Emily disappeared into the bathroom to complete her nightly ritual, but hadn’t remembered to grab any pj's. When she reappeared, he was standing there with a lacy cotton gown in his hand. Mac had made sure on one of his trips over here with her stuff that her nighties had taken up residence in the opposite side of the dresser from his underwear. Emily reached out to take it from him, but Mac wasn’t going to let go. "Relax and let me take care of you, Em, you’re dead on your feet." Emily’s teeth worried her lip as she looked up at him. Mac had never given her any cause to be afraid of him, but every female alarm she owned was going off at this point. She’d never let any man besides her doctor see her with no clothes on – and her doctor was a woman! And here he was, wanting to undress her and stick her in bed with him! "Em, it’s me? Mac? The one you used to share a bathroom with? And a bath – " She smacked his shoulder. "We were five years old, for cryin’ out loud!" A crooked finger tipped her chin up. "Are you really afraid of me, Punkin’?" That thought was abhorrent. He might spank her – no, he did spank her. But hurt her? No. Emily dropped her hand from the nightgown, too exhausted to fight him anymore. In truth, he gave her no further cause for alarm, undressing her as lovingly and carefully as he could. The last thing he did was take her hair out of the scrunchie she’d had it up in all day, brushing its length out as she sighed contentedly. "Hop into bed, sweetie," he whispered against the top of her head with a kiss, and Emily found herself obeying him automatically, without thinking. Although she’d never slept with another person, except those occasional all-girl sleepovers in her childhood, she ended up cuddled against his left side as if she’d been there all her life, and fell asleep 13

only moments after he tucked the covers in around her. Mac sighed, happier than he’d been in a long time, despite the fact that holding her in his arms all night was going to drive him crazier than he already was, and that he was probably going to die of heat since, to cater to her tender sensibilities, he was wearing pajama bottoms when he usually slept in the nude. But he was more than willing to forget pretty much any inconvenience. All was right with his world – Emily was with him, and he had no doubt she’d soon be his in every sense of the word – including wearing his name. The next morning, just before dawn when Mac had to get up, he made love to her as naturally as if she’d been his for decades, and of course she had in every sense except this one. Emily had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and then he took his own turn, gathering her close when he got back to bed. His mouth drifted down from her forehead to settle on her lips, and she found herself relaxing against him. This was Mac. She’d loved him all her life. What more natural expression of their love could there be? Despite the multitude of chores that awaited him, there were no hurried gestures, no flurries of kisses. He was going to claim all of her, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it in three seconds flat, no matter how long he’d waited. Their kisses were deep and slow, with her tongue shyly meeting his as her hand crept up his bare, lightly furry chest to cup his jaw, stroking his full, gray mustache with her thumb. Mac took his time pulling away from her, his mouth leaving a wet trail down the side of her neck to the scoop front of her gown, to just at the beginning swell of her breasts. He heard her tentative breath as his fingers began unbuttoning the buttons they found there. His mouth nuzzled hers again as he murmured soothing nothings, his fingers working busily until he could separate the two parts of the front of her gown to reveal those wonderful mounds of tight-tipped flesh. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, breathing her name in such a reverent manner that she couldn’t muster embarrassment, and almost flushed with pride that he found her attractive. A tanned hand began at her collar bone and ventured south at a crawl, as if they had all the time in the world. He didn’t want to startled her, didn’t want to make her feel threatened in any way. No, he wanted her to feel cherished . . . desired . . . loved. At first, he simply reveled in being able to touch her like his, that rough-skinned hand rubbing over every inch of exposed flesh with tender possession. Mac’s chest swelled with pride when he deliberately caressed each hard nipple with his palm and she whimpered. He repeated the motion and she moaned slightly, stirring restlessly beneath him, not really knowing what she wanted, just that he was making her ache in more ways that she ever imagined she could. His lips descended, not to hers but to suckle at those teased nipples, standing hard and ready for his warm, wet mouth. Mac thought she was going to buck him off when he claimed a tip and tugged avidly, but his weight was too much for her to move. Emily had to settle for moving her head back and forth on the pillow as Mac pulled and licked then gently nipped at her, creating such a feeling of pressure and pleasure that she didn’t think she could stand it, and she said so out loud. Mac bestowed an evil grin on her that might have had her worried if he were not being so gentle. "We’ve just begun, my Emily." He leaned more of his weight onto her, resting some on his elbows so that he could take a breast in each broad paw and bring the nipples to his mouth in turn, all the time watching her with loving eyes, her every

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response both soothing and stimulating to him, making his already fully capable body harden and pulsate and ache to be buried deep within her just that much more. With a nipple held tightly against the roof of his mouth, Mac reached between them and undid the buttons of her nightie, pushing it partly off to the sides, but mostly leaving her in it. When his right hand moved down over her tummy and even lower, Emily found that, because of the gown, she couldn’t move her arms enough to grab him, or even hold him. Suddenly concerned, although her intellect told her she didn’t need to be, she called to him anxiously. "Mac?" He was absorbed in the freedom he had to touch her intimately, but not so far gone much that he didn’t hear the very real concern in her voice. Although his hand didn’t stop its possessive descent, cupping the heat of her body with every care, as if it was a tiny bird in his hand, he did want to reassure her. "Am I hurting you, baby?" Mac asked, his long middle finger gently parting the folds between her legs, sliding between them with exquisite tenderness to find her moist heat. "N- N – no," came the very tentative reply as that same finger backtracked a little to flick over the sensitive bundle of flesh, making her arch up, seeking, wanting, aching for more of that same touch but almost afraid to at the same time. Emily again tried to pull her arms away from her sides, but she couldn’t. "My – arms – Mac" Mac could see her struggling and stretched out beside her, his fingertip still in its intimate cove, rubbing slowly, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he kissed her deeply, all the while tracing over and over that tender nub, making her writhe and moan and enjoying every second of his sensual power over her. "You don’t need to move your arms, my love, just your hips. Come for me, Emily. Let me pleasure you." She couldn’t stop him and he wasn’t about to stop voluntarily. She was trapped against him, her arms useless, and he had unrestricted access to all of her, even the most private part of her body – and the most sensitive part. Emily writhed and moaned, and near the end almost sobbed as her body instinctively answered the demands he was making of it, that taut button swelling and rising to meet that torturing finger while he created a tremendous ache by a mere flicker of movement. She flew apart when his lips settled at her nipple again to suckle strongly, almost painfully, adding another unbearable element of feeling that set Emily to thrashing uncontrollably. When she came, Emily thought she was going to fly apart physically as well as emotionally, but Mac was there to catch her and hold her together as she shuddered violently, her hips bucking; a loud, long moan rising from the back of her throat. There was no way he could hold off a second longer. He had to be inside her. Mac freed her arms, but she was too sated to move. He shrugged out of his pajama bottoms and moved between her legs carefully so as not to startle her. With the tip of his penis at the entrance to her body, those nipples drew him again and he couldn’t resist another long drink of each as he began to work his way inside her. Emily thought she’d never move again, even once her arms were free, but then he was between her legs, pressing himself into her, and her body leapt to pleasure once more with a sizzle coursing through her veins - until she felt the size of the thing he was trying to put inside her. It made her tense, even when Mac kissed her and told her it would be alright. There was only a slight pain as he truly began to open her, thanks to years of horseback riding, but the feelings – the nerve endings he was rubbing against as he stretched and filled her were at least as sensitive as the ones he had been teasing before. 15

The pressure and ache were unbearable, making Emily try desperately to move away from him, pushing her bottom into the mattress, but he followed relentlessly, inching himself deeper and deeper into her. She clutched at his rock-hard biceps as Mac reached beneath her with one hand, lifting her hips to him, seating himself inside her to the hilt. Emily’s knew she wasn’t going to live through this, and she begged, "No, Mac, I can’t stand it – " She was moving so wildly on him of her own accord that he was having a hard time controlling his urge to thrust. But Mac wanted to give her some time to grow accustomed to him, to the new feeling of accepting him into her body. He stroked her hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Does it hurt, baby?" he asked, concerned. "N-no – I – I – it feels so – so – " she swallowed hard, unable to find the words to tell him what she was feeling, or the strength to still her restless body. Mac understood completely. "Shhh, honey, I promise you it’ll get better. It’ll get better." He had reached the end of his rope; his patience snapped and he turned himself over to his instincts, thrusting at first gently but then less so, heeding the dictates of his body that made him drive into her over and over. In a part of his mind that was still rational, he worried that Emily might be frightened or upset at his single-minded pursuit of his own goal, but then he realized that her legs were wrapped around his waist and she was right there with him, riding him back, heeding her own instincts, clenching internally around him in her own ecstatic end. When it ended for him, when he climaxed for the first time deep inside her, Mac thought it would go on forever, his body pulsing for long, pleasurable moments as he spurted his seed into the woman he loved. The errant thought of a baby drifted through his mind and he fervently hoped it was an omen of things to come as he collapsed on top of her. She was truly his. Finally.

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Chapter 3 Although he would have said he was totally used up in just that one fantastic bout of lovemaking, Mac proved himself wrong by making love to her again before he absolutely had to get up, then coming back after the morning chores were done to take her again and again all morning long. Neither of them got anything constructive done that day except to catalogue a whole lot of sensual knowledge about each other. Eventually they settled into a routine of sorts, but each and every night was filled with sensual exploration. Mac was entirely insatiable, and Emily was an apt student, shy but eager, and completely trusting of him. Mac initiated her into the ways of physical love with a tender amusement, making certain that she knew that she could share anything with him – that there was nothing they could not explore within their bed. If it turned her on, it would turn him on automatically. Mac was a sensual, earthy, entirely insatiable lover who demanded even more of her than he did of himself once he discovered that his little love was multi-orgasmic. From that point on he become almost obsessed with making her dance that pleasurable dance on the tips of his fingers or within the moist heat of his mouth over and over. As they lived together and their relationship grew more settled, Mac enforced certain inalienable rules that he felt helped keep Emily safe and out of trouble – the seatbelt rule (always wear one), the budgeting rule (always follow the one he sets up for you), the speeding rule (definitely don’t), and the swearing rule (don’t, at least not in front of him). When he spanked her, fairly infrequently, but frequently enough, she always knew that he really didn’t want to have to do it. Although Mac never let his reluctance dissuade him, Emily knew that he hated to cause her pain; he was so much more interested in driving her crazy with ecstasy. But when he had expressly told her not to order another thing from QVC and she did anyway, or she slipped during an argument and used a vulgar word - his old fashioned tendencies definitely extended to not allowing his woman to use foul language - or if she got cranky and was disrespectful to him, even if she apologized immediately and tried to butter him up or distract him with sex, Emily could see that determined look in his eye that meant she was going to get it. Mac usually spanked her in their bedroom, although he had occasionally done it at the "scene of the crime" – the kitchen or the living room. Normally, though, he would point the way up the stairs and say, "Get your fanny up to our room." If she wasn’t fast enough, he’d accent the order with a healthy swat to her bottom, making her rub it even as she headed upstairs, before the actual spanking even began. And there was a lot more where that came from, she knew from experience. He never made her wait long, wanting to get it over with so that it was not be between them any longer. Mac was an excellent disciplinarian – firm, consistent, and loving, but strict. He wasn’t trying to beat her under any circumstances – his big gruff heart was way too tender for that. Generally, the only position he put her in was over his 17

lap, which was both terribly intimate and terribly humiliating. It was almost always his hand that reddened her bottom and the backs of her thighs good and proper, although sometimes, after reducing her to tears just with his hand, he would make her get up and get her own wooden hairbrush from her vanity to bring back to him, or, less frequently the paddle that hung in her closet that had her name on it that he’d taken from her parents’ house. Twice he’d put her over several pillows on their bed and used the belt from his pants – that was reserved for serious disobedience, things like when she’d put herself in serious jeopardy health-wise by letting a head cold become pneumonia, and when Mac had found out she’d hitchhiked her way home from a friend’s house when her car died. When he had to use his belt on her, she knew he felt almost as badly as she did through the whole thing – and when his arms went around her once he’d thrown the belt across the room after the last stroke, he was always shaking, and usually crying, too, vowing over and over how much he loved her and how sorry he was that he had to punish her like that, and asking her please not to make him have to do that again. But usually, it was a very private, intimate thing when he came upstairs and sat on the edge of the bed with an exasperated sigh. "C’mere, baby," he’d say in a quiet voice. Emily would stand in front of him and he would either pull her jeans and panties down to her knees – he always spanked her on the bare – or strip her entirely, which usually meant he was going to put her to bed after her spanking. Then he would put her over his knees, with her bottom well up in the air so that she was somewhat off balance and had to grab his leg or put her hands on the floor to steady herself. He found that that kept her from being even more naughty and reaching back to protect her roasted bottom. Then, in that humiliating position, she would have to listen to his lecture, and God forbid he should think she wasn’t actually listening – then he’d start to spank during the lecture, which he didn’t even consider to be a part of the "real" spanking. Mac approached Emily’s punishments the same way he approached everything else: slowly, thoroughly, and deliberately. The broad flat of his hand scorched every inch of the creamy flesh in front of him, up and over each hillock and down the backs of her thighs. Now, this is not what he would choose to be doing to her bottom, given the choice. Oh, he was rock hard while he spanked her. Mac couldn’t be within a ten mile radius of his lady without becoming very interested. And he would much rather have been making love to her, making her scream with joy rather than pain, but Mac would never shirk his duties, and he considered this to be one of them. He was extremely conscientious about making sure that he applied all of his attention to fulfilling each and every one of his duties – especially those that pertained to her - and this was no exception. When he finished with her hand spanking, and that was it, he would either hug her tightly and rock her while she cried it out in the safety of his arms, or he would tuck her into their bed with a kiss to cry herself to sleep on her tummy. That was one of the hardest things he did – leave her crying in their bed. But sometimes he felt she needed a delay in the comforting that he knew was so important, so that she could reflect on the naughtiness of the behavior that had brought about the punishment. Mac would sneak in later and wake her up with a kiss and a hug, usually making love to her to reaffirm their bond and his absolute love for her.

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If he had determined that another implement needed to be used to reinforce the lesson, she was required to get whatever he requested, and then he would apply it to her posterior once she’d draped herself back over his lap. Usually, because the implements hurt that much more, he’d have to hold her hands at the small of her back, knowing how hard it was for her to stay still while the hairbrush or the paddle seared her tender flesh. Because of Mac – and even because of his implacable punishments - Emily was certain that there was no woman in the United States who was more loved than she was – in any interpretation of the word. Mac was her rock in more than just the physical sensation of the word. He helped her and held her through the death of her parents, also doing as much of the administrative things as possible. Mac didn’t like the idea of strangers buying her parents’ farm, so he bought it. Since he intended to marry Emily, they would own both farms together. He liked to think that Charles Robertson would have liked that idea, too. So Mac was happy, her Mom and Dad and their best friends were happy and together in Heaven, raising hell, she was sure. Tammy was happy . . . the whole damned world was happy. Except Emily. Oh, she didn’t have any of the usual problems – her finances were fine, thanks to Mac and his tighter-than-the-bark-on-a-tree mentality – and his tendency to enforce budgetary rules on her bare bottom – her job was fine, she lived with a man who thought that the sun rose and set on her command, and he showed her that every night when he brought their bodies together in heated passion. He was rock solid, staunch, slow, deliberate, practical, and pragmatic – frankly, all of the things she’d fought to get away from. He was also rabidly sexy, funny, occasionally lewd, and a veritable powerhouse in bed. And he loved her with every ounce of his being. She knew it like she knew there would always been death and taxes. She loved the stodgy old stick-in-the-mud, too. It was what kept her with him despite her ranting intellect. But was that enough? To give up a lifetime of Paris, New York City, art galleries, trendy clubs, and eclectic conversation for life on a farm in backwoods Maine, where the routine is the same, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, day in, day out – relentlessly and unapologetically rural and dreary and drab. It was Valentine’s Day, and she had gotten him a set of coins he had wanted for his collection, along with a suitably mushy card. Mac had wanted for them to have dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the area; in fact he had even suggested it in more than enough time for them to get reservations. But Emily didn’t want to go out for Valentines Day, and she was able to talk him out of it by enticing him with his favorite meal – garlic and white wine marinated pork roast with apple sauce, homemade bread, green beans, and garlic mashed potatoes. Emily didn’t mind cooking for him – she loved to cook – and for some reason she felt it was imperative that they not go out for dinner tonight. She was afraid that Mac was going to ask her to marry him tonight. And she was going to turn him down. She didn’t want to do it in front of most of the County, who would also be out for the romantic holiday. And she had been dead right about his plans. After presenting her with a dozen beautiful red roses and a big heart-shaped box of chocolates, and opening the set of coins 19

that he enthused over, Mac ate the wonderful meal she’d cooked for him, then, when the dishes had been cleared, he brought her into the living room and sat her down on the couch, assuming a position on one knee in front of her and holding an open ring box that held his grandmother’s diamond ring. "Emily Katrina Robertson, will you marry me?" Her eyes had filled with tears immediately as she gazed into the clear blue eyes of the man she loved. Her fingers delved into his full head of gray hair; Mac had started going gray at eighteen and was fully gray by his early twenties. But that never made any difference to Emily. He could have hair that was sky blue-pink or be bald as a cue ball as far as she was concerned. Hair or the lack thereof would never, ever make him any less of a man. Before she had a chance to say yes or no, he’d already put the marquis diamond onto her finger, kissing her hand in a courtly gesture. She got up, her eyes on the ring; her heart ripping slowly in two and falling apart inside her like a puppet whose strings had been snipped. His arms wrapped around her from behind, hugging her close, whispering hoarsely, "I’ve loved you for so long, my Emily. You are so special to me. I want you to be my wife. I want you to be the mother of my children." Emily hugged his arms, enjoying what would probably be the last time she felt so safe and loved and cared for, with him warm and strong behind her. She was going to hurt him terribly, and he would probably never look at her again in this lifetime except with contempt. She didn’t know how she was going to do it. How could she do that to him when he’d never been anything but loving and sweet to her, even when he blistered her bottom? She pulled away from him slowly and turned around, holding his face in her hands. She said it quickly, like ripping off a band aid, but it didn’t help. "I can’t marry you, Mac. Living here for the rest of my life would drive me crazy. You deserve someone who can be happy - " Mac’s forehead was winkled in a deep, pained frown, and he deserved the courtesy of a better explanation, but Emily didn’t think she could say anything that would help stop the hurt, so she took the ring off her finger and pressed it into his hand, folding those callused fingers around it and kissing them reverently. Then she sprinted out of the house to her car. He hadn’t tried to follow her for which she was eternally grateful; maybe he was too shocked. That was the last time she’d seen him. Mac wasn’t about to come crawling to her under any circumstances. Emily left town the next day before finishing the school year, which didn’t give her a reference from that job, but then the job she got at an art gallery in New York didn’t care much about that anyway. They wanted her language ability and her knowledge of modern art. She didn’t even go back to his house to collect her stuff; Emily started over with everything new in the city, and that was okay with her. There would be nothing around to remind her of him. Yet everything did. Absolutely everything, for more than a year. Especially the long, lonely nights.

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Chapter 4 "Well?" Emily asked, her eyebrow raised. Laconic as always, Daniel took his time answering. "Jesse Barlow, maintenance assistant for the building. He’s gonna go get Ed Ketchum. If he can get him before he leaves for the fourth, then we’ll be outta here within the next hour or so. If he can’t, it’s likely to be a coupla hours." "Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath, blithely ignoring Mac’s immediate frown. "What did I just tell you?" How many times had she heard that phrase and known that she was seconds away from getting a good, hard licking? Hell, her bottom was already tingling in anticipation, and he hadn’t touched her in nearly two years! Jeez, that man made a lasting impression! Emily sniffed and answered confidently while digging in her purse for her cell phone which ended up being at home in a different purse, "Nothing that I have to pay any attention to any more." She might as well have waived a red flag in front of an angry bull. Before she knew it, her purse was commandeered out of her hands, and she was in that uncomfortably familiar position over his lap, although this time she was way too up close and personal with the carpet that desperately needed vacuuming. The skirt of her light summer dress was pulled up and draped over her back while Emily struggled, getting nowhere rapidly, not that she really expected to. But she squealed loudly and redoubled her efforts at escape when Mac’s fingers hitched themselves under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down to her knees, his hand then resting on her vulnerable bottom as he easily controlled her jerky, ineffectual attempts to roll off his lap. "Don’t you dare, Daniel MacGregor!" she hissed, quickly becoming exhausted and getting nowhere. Mac didn’t say a word, just raised his hand and spanked. Two years might as well have been two seconds to him. Emily was still his. She’d always be his, whether or not she cared to acknowledge it, and he was not about to put up with vulgarity from her, regardless of the provocation. Because of the size of his hand and his incredible strength, it never took long for her to be reduced to tears, but they had never so much as slowed him down, nor did they now, nor did the scissor-kicking or the promises of better behavior. Mac didn’t ease up on her until her little fanny and thighs were a sore-looking crimson, and when he stopped she didn’t even move, remaining over his lap and hiccoughing sobs. He never could stand to hear her cry, even if his spanking was the direct cause of it. Mac turned her towards him, cuddling her in his arms, rubbing her back, soothing her gently as she tried to regain the control of herself that she lost to him during a punishment. 21

"You – don’t – have – the – right," she breathed, unwilling to forgive him for the humiliation of being taken over his knee – again - knowing she should by all rights be fighting her way out of his arms. Mac sighed, his breath blowing over her tear-wet cheeks as he faced the fact that he still loved and wanted this annoying woman. "Honey, I’ll always have the right. You belong to me; you always will, even if you don’t want to accept that fact - or my love." That made Emily sit up quickly, then stand, pulling her panties up from her ankles with an embarrassed air. She reclaimed her neutral corner, hissing in pain as her sore bottom connected with the floor of the elevator, and then yelping as she felt something sticking into her finger. A stray tack. "What?" She didn’t answer him, but put the abused digit into her mouth, sucking on it. "Nothing." "Emily." How could he put such a wealth of warm reproach into just that one word? Too tired to fight him, sullenly, "I pricked myself." His humor came to the forefront. "That used to be my job." Emily turned and saw his sad smile. He deserved much better than the way she had treated him, and she would regret her behavior for the rest of her life, but she didn’t entertain any foolish hopes that he would ever take her back. But she might as well get it over with. "I’m so sorry I hurt you, Daniel. You were the last person in the world I ever wanted to hurt and yet the one I kept hurting . . . " Emily had grown up a little in the past two years – a year and a half of which had been spent hiding from exactly this confrontation. Nothing. No response, which made her nervous, which made her ramble. "I – I was just afraid, you know, of – of you – " he looked surprised and concerned, but remained quiet. " – not of you you but of what you represented – oh, God, I’m putting this so badly, and I’m not trying to make excuses for the horrible way I acted I just . . . " she swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I just wanted something more than I thought I could find here, with you, getting married . . . having the house, the hubby, and the requisite two-point-seven children." And I was dead wrong, she thought vehemently, but she didn’t say it. Mac sighed, tasting the familiar ashes of defeat he’d had in his mouth since she’d run from him like a frightened rabbit on a night he had naively thought they would spend making love and making plans for their future together, thinking to himself, And you were dead right. He knew that he was about as exciting to her as yesterday’s oatmeal – except in bed – and that life on the farm with him wouldn’t have all of the hustle and bustle of the city life she seemed to crave, or the culture or the galleries or the thee-uhtuh. He knew that all he could offer her was himself – his undying love, the security of having money in the bank enough to pull them through a bad year or two, his strong arms to cuddle in with hands to spank away any bad behavior, his babies, his family . . . a humdrum life full of the day-to-day hassle of home and children and bills and work. But then why was she here, in town? Why had she come back to the place she supposedly hated? Mac had known the moment she’d arrived – every busybody in town had delighted in filling him in as to where she was living – in a small apartment in one of the beautiful old houses on Main Street – where she was working – First Maine Bank not 22

more than a block from where she lived. What a come down, they enjoyed crowing at him, thinking he would also want to revel in the obvious misery of the woman who has spurned his proposal and run off in the dead of night to do who-knew-what in the Big City. Mac had done no such thing, but it had haunted him every long, lonely day that she hadn’t come to him since she’d been back. Not for apologies, and not for recriminations on his part, but because they were old friends. It had taken a rickety old elevator to get her to talk to him, and even then it was only at his pointed prompting. Finally, he said, "I don’t want apologies, Em." Emily swallowed hard, eyes and throat aching with unshed tears. She understood. Mac wouldn’t want any part of her now, regardless, which is why she’d deliberately stayed away from him since she’d returned. Not that she could blame him one iota. She didn’t want to rub his nose in it, and, although she’d realized sometime during the haze of that eighteen months without him that it was her fondest wish that he would forgive her and put that ring back onto her finger, Emily knew there was no way in hell he’d take her back. "But that doesn’t change the fact that I was wrong and I am sorry." "I know you are. But I should have known – I should have read you better." Emily snorted. "None of the blame about that evening was yours, Mac. You’ve never in your life done anything that wasn’t the absolute right thing to do." There was a certain amount of resentment in that statement, and they both knew it. Mac, however, had made the spit second decision that it might be worth it to stop being so proper and gentlemanly just now – better late than never. He’d been good so far; when she’d pulled away from him he hadn’t followed the dictates of his body and gone after her as he was literally aching to do. But he was sick of being good and going without because it was the "right" thing to do. Mac couldn’t count the number of times during the past six months that he found his hand on the front doorknob, or he’d slowed down in the middle of Main Street hoping to catch a glimpse of her, or the tractor stopped mid-field while he talked himself out of storming down to her place, waling the tar out of her bottom, then making love to her until she begged him to take her back. The "right" thing was always to be inside her, to let his body love her as it craved to, to wallow in her humor, her smile, her cries of ecstasy. There could be no wrong in that, as far as he was concerned. Well, here was the perfect opportunity to indulge himself a little, and when Mac decided to do something, he did it. One minute she was concentrating on fighting back tears, drowning in both of their sorrows, sucking on her finger and absently wondering where in hell the cavalry was, and the next minute she found herself straddling him. He reached under her bunched up skirt and ripped her panties off, then opened his pants and arranged himself so that she was cradling his hardness intimately. Emily drew in a startled, angry breath, getting ready to blast him, but his finger crossed her lips, then moved boldly to take its familiar place in the folds between her legs. She knew she should fight him, but she didn’t really want to. Oh, she put up a token struggle, but he bent her down to him easily and kissed her out of it while stroking her in just the right way, just the way he knew she liked, holding those soft lips apart to fully expose her love button to the insistent ravishment of his finger. Emily was wet. Being spanked had always turned her on, even when he went hard on her. 23

"Mac, no, we – we – " Cripes, she couldn’t think straight when he was doing that to her! " – we sh-shouldn’t!" His "mmmmmm" in response came out as a tortured groan as Mac moved side to side a little, holding her hip in his free hand, guiding himself to her opening as he continued to torment her, flicking and rubbing non-stop, even as he slid home within her. Emily’s heart stopped as he filled her, her head back, hair tumbling over her shoulders as he strained to get up inside her, stretching her, making her moan but never easing the pressure until he was fully seated and she hung on him, impaled like a rag doll over his hips. Mac pulled her down to him again by winding a lock of hair around his hand, kissing her deeply then lifting her dress over her head with eager help from her, capturing a taut nipple in his mouth, all the while stroking in and out of her and over and over that special spot, making her writhe and moan and finally, scream his name in complete abandon. Less than a minute later, he joined her in ecstasy, taking her hard and fast because it was the only way he could stand it, screaming her name back at her – "Hey, are you all right in there?" A strange male voice asked from above. It was definitely not God, Emily thought, because God would not have such a smug tone to His voice – whoever it was knew exactly what it was that they had been doing, to her complete mortification. Still, she couldn’t move until Mac moved. "Yeah, we’re fine, Ed." "I imagine you are," came the sniggering reply. Cripes, Mac thought, Ketchum was one of the biggest gossips in the County. Word of this would be all over the state of Maine before they were even rescued. He’d bet his bottom dollar on it. But he still hadn’t moved. It felt too good to be back where he belonged – deep inside his woman, with her legs at his waist and her nipples still peaked against his chest. Trying for diffidence, Emily commented sarcastically, "You’d better get off me before Ed begins the live feed to the eleven o’clock news." Mac chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose, then levered himself to a standing position. Emily sat up and found his hand in front of her face to help her up, which she accepted gratefully. Mac spotted her panties in the corner of the small room, in pretty much unwearable shreds. He smiled at her with no remorse, snatching them up and stuffing them into his pocket. Emily was about to protest, but what was she going to do with them besides throw them in the trash? If he wanted some sort of weird souvenir from a time when they both went a little crazy, who was she to deny him? The elevator seemed smaller than ever in the awkward silence, but a quick glance at Mac found him staring at her with a stupid, satisfied grin on his face. He didn’t look like he was feeling in the least bit awkward or embarrassed, damn him. He looked like the cat that ate the canary, and it made her want to hit him, hard – injured party or not. "It’s fixed," they heard Ed yell down. "It’ll jerk ya’ around a coupla times at the beginning, but you’ll be fine down to the Lobby. We’ll let you out there." "Famous last words," Emily muttered, looking around nervously just before she was again tossed unceremoniously against Mac again as the elevator finally started its descent.

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His arms closed around her automatically, squeezing tight. "If there’s one thing Ed knows, honey, it’s this building and its crotchety machinery." Ed was right, thankfully, and, after the initial turbulence, the ride down was uneventful. Emily tried to separate from Mac, but he wouldn’t allow it, keeping her clamped to his side with ridiculous ease as the doors opened. Ed was standing there grinning in much the same way Mac was, with the younger – but still middle-aged - Jesse Barlow giggling like a schoolboy who had seen his first Playboy. Emily had never been so humiliated in all her life. If things had been different between them, she would have buried her face against Mac’s chest so that she would not have to see the looks of male understanding on the two men’s faces, but she no longer had that right, so she had to tough it out. All she could do was try to get to her car as fast as possible. And Mac, she didn’t even want to see his face . . . If she had, though, it would have been a revelation. He looked fit to kill the two of them for embarrassing Emily, and she, in turn, was trying to run away from him again, as fast as her little legs would take her. If it hadn’t been for the need to corral her as she sprinted ahead of him, Mac would have dropped each of them with one satisfying punch. But he wasn’t about to let her get away from him a second time. Once they were out of the building and down the steps, Emily found herself swept up into Mac’s arms. "What do you think you’re doing?" she asked in full-blown indignation, even as her arms settled around his neck. Mac stopped short and kissed her, hard. "I don’t know about you, but what we did in the elevator was just an appetizer. I’m takin’ you home for the main course." ~~~ Later, much, much later that evening – actually, closer to early the next morning Emily lay cuddled against Mac’s broad chest, his hand rubbing slowly up and down her bare back, but not far enough down to touch the sore redness of her bottom. Mac had given Emily the spanking of a lifetime somewhere in the middle of all those lovemaking sessions, and she had submitted to it with as little fuss as he’d ever seen her take a punishment. He hadn’t gone easy on her – his heart wouldn’t let him, and for the first time ever he used both the paddle and his belt on her poor cringing cheeks as she sobbed and chanted her apologies, then finally just sobbed as the belt fell and fell. Then he had soothed her, as only he could, loving her with his mouth and his tongue and his lips and his fingers and his hands and his whole body, overwhelming her with himself and the pleasure he brought to her, as no one and nothing else could. They had each declared their love for one another frequently in the night, before, during, and after their passionate coupling, and it was almost like they had never been separated. Almost. Suddenly, Mac rolled away from her a second, then rolled back, grabbing Emily’s left hand and putting his grandmother’s ring back on the third finger, where it belonged. Emily was aghast and sat up, even before he pulled her out of bed and practically threw her into her rumpled dress, stepping into jeans and shrugging on a shirt, then stomping into boots and dragging her out of the house and into his truck while she was still trying to get her sandals on. "Where are we going at two-thirty in the morning?"

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He didn’t answer her, but drove with a single-minded concentration that frankly worried her, until they pulled into the driveway of a familiar house. "Daniel, it’s the middle of the night – you are not going to do this!" He came around to her side of the truck and she flatly refused to get out, trying to keep her voice down as she hissed at him. "I will marry you. I’m keeping the ring. See?" She showed him that it was still on her finger. Mac was unmovable, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his feet planted wide, as if he expected a physical fight. "Either you get out of that truck right now or I’ll help you out. Your choice." "But there’s no need for this – " She didn’t even get her sentence completed before she was out of the truck and back in his arms. He held her quietly and she muttered under her breath the whole time they stood at the doorway after he rang the bell. "We’ll be damned lucky if he the only thing he does is arrest us, you know – " Mac was in the process of scowling fiercely down at her when the big mahogany door swung open to reveal Judge Halverston tying his considerable paunch into a robe. He didn’t even seem surprised to see them, in fact, just stepped to the side so that they could go to the parlor where he usually presided as a Justice of the Peace. It was already lit romantically with candles, and Mrs. Halverston was there beaming in her own robe and slippers. "Oh, my dear," the older woman said, patting Emily’s arm. "I am so happy for you. Why when we heard – " She stopped mid-sentence when her husband shot her a warning look. "We’re both very happy for you," she repeated. Mac had yet to put her down, so she began to wiggle. "Stay still," he commanded, in a more no-nonsense tone than usual, tightening his arms, and she did. It was the fastest wedding ceremony Emily had ever seen, ruthlessly boiled down to the basics by the poor Judge who obviously wanted to get back to bed in a reasonable timeframe. There were no rings, and Mac felt the lack, but he looked at Emily and promised that they would pick them out as soon as possible. He wanted a wedding ring on her finger, but at least they were getting the legalities down. There would be time for rituals later. "You may kiss the bride." Mac took his duties as a married man very seriously, as anyone could tell by that kiss. Finally, the Judge "harrumphed" loudly in the background, before the couple decided that his Persian carpet looked comfortable enough for their needs. Congratulations were said all around then Mac turned with his wife still in his arms and carried her out to their truck. He repeated the procedure when they got home, carrying her over the threshold and on up to their room. Emily, whose feet hadn’t touched the ground since some time this afternoon, both figuratively and literally, was again lying against Mac’s, only this time she was also cuddled against her husband’s side. Just before they went to sleep, Mac sighed contentedly. "There. Now I’ve finally got you, and I’m not lettin’ you go." Emily leaned forward and kissed him on the lips gently. "I don’t want to be anywhere where you aren’t. I know now that I’ve got myself a good man, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to be his good woman."

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Also by Carolyn Faulkner from Blushing Books: Talus: A Demon Story ISBN: 978-1-935152-54-5 Grace, the house sitter, is in for a very interesting surprise. The supposedly empty house is far from it. And what occupies the house is not your every day mouse, either. Talus first comes to Grace in a dream, granted the most erotic dream of her life, but a dream nevertheless. And then some very strange things start to happen, and the dreams become more and more vivid. Finally, Grace realizes that demon or not, Talus is real. And Talus has some very interesting sexual tastes. He's not only a demon lover he's a dominant demon lover, very much so. The edge between pain and pleasure is a thin one, Grace learns - and much much more. This is an extremely sexually explicit story, with severe BDSM themes and anal play. Submissive Desires: ISBN: 978-1-935152-26-2 Submissive Desires relates the tale of Simon and Maura, and the awakening of a fully-realized D/S relationship. Simon is an ex-Navy Seal and he knows what he wants when he finally finds it, and Maura is it. The problem is that Maura "thinks" she`s submissive, but all she`s ever done is play with it. Simon is the real thing. Moving back and forth between their first encounters five years earlier and the present day, Submissive Desires recounts Maura`s awakening at the hands of the VERY dominant Simon. She struggles intensely between her love for Simon and trepidation over the path down which he is leading her. This is an extremely explicit and very severe story, containing intense spanking and caning, breast, anal, and genital punishment, as well as bondage. The MacNaughton Bride: ISBN: 978-1-935152-64-4 Headstrong Aislinn Montgomery isn't used to strong men. Her uncle and father the only two men in her life - care of nothing more than marrying her off. So when she finds hwerself wed to Lord Kell MacNaughton, she's in for a rude awakening. For Kell means for her to obey. Or else. Kell, faced with a bride who was an inexplicable combination of virginal innocence and headstrong stubborness, is up to the challenge. But when some of Aislinn's secrets seem to go beyond girlish defiance to rend very fabric of their marriage, Kell's decision threatens to destroy them both.

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A Hard Man is Good to Find: ISBN: 978-1935152-52-1 When Kelsey Donohoe is included in the will of a dearly departed friend, she can't help but be shocked at the terms. The eccentric Calliope Jenks has left her house to Kelsey and Clint Duncan ... on the condition that the two of them can live there together for the period of eighteen months. If they both make it, they split the proceeds. If one leaves, however, he or she forfeits the house to the other. It had been Callie's hope that Kelsey and Clint would end up as a couple, but how can the strong-willed Kelsey be expected to fall for a tough-as-nails cop like Clint? While she is physically attracted to him, she has no patience for his bossy demeanor. On the other hand, Clint has even less patience with the headstrong Kesley, as she soon finds out when he puts her over his knee. Bound by Love: ISBN: 978-1-935152-50-7 "Bound by Love" contains three steaming hot novellas from Carolyn Faulkner in one trilogy package. In "The Angel of Sudden Hill," the Angel is a prisoner of man she`s never seen. Virginal Irina has never so much as been alone with a man to say nothing of being bound naked in front of one. But Bryce de Keive doesn`t care. He`s heard about the Angel and wants her for his own. So he takes her... and now he will teach her what it really means to belong to a man. (Three chapters) In "The Centurion," Brietta is well and truly prisoner to the Roman Centurion Lucius. He knows she's a barbarian, he's heard she's a Celtic witch, and he's determined to break her without falling under her spell. Brietta is taken by the harsh Roman, taught to obey his every command. Yet, he finds himself more under her spell every day... Who will be the ultimate victor in their battle of wills? (Eight chapters) In "Sold!" an innocent young woman in sold into bondage in the old West. Slavery is no longer legal, is it? Try explaining that to the harsh mountain man who buys Carolyn at auction then takes her days into the wilderness. (Four chapters) How thin ARE the lines between pain and pleasure, love and hate, bondage and freedom?

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Cade: The Cutler Brothers Book One by Paige Tyler

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Chapter One “Cutler, my office! Now!” At the order, Cade looked up from his computer, his brow furrowing. Shit, he thought. He’d barely been at the job two weeks and he was already being called into the boss’s office. Figuring he couldn’t have done anything this soon that would get him fired as a U.S. Marshal, Cade pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Extremely aware of the other Marshals looking quizzically at him, he crossed the room and walked into the Deputy Chief’s office. Still wondering what he’d done that would have his boss bellowing across the office for him, Cade was tense as the older man closed the door and walked over to his desk. “I’ve got your first assignment for you,” Pete Conner said, picking a folder up and tossing it down on the desk in front of Cade. A middle-aged man, he had graying hair and a stocky build that made him look like he’d be right at home on a football field. “A woman in the WitSec Program called in saying she thinks her identity has been compromised, and I want you to go check it out,” he told Cade. “She’s probably making a fuss about nothing, so I think it’s a case you can handle on your own.” The momentary high that Cade had felt at the mention of an assignment for the Witness Security Program, or WitSec as it was called, disappeared in a flash. He tried to control his disappointment, though. He had known coming into this that he was going to have to prove himself. How well he had done on the Marshals’ written exam or the physical fitness test didn’t mean a thing to the Deputy Chief. Neither did the wealth of experience he had brought with him from the Dallas Police Department. He was starting from the bottom rung again and being the new guy, it wasn’t like his superior was going to give him the best assignments right off the bat. But just because he knew that didn’t mean he liked it. After all of the stories his father and older brother, both of whom had been Marshals for years, had told him, he’d hoped things would be a little bit more exciting. All he’d done since he’d been hired was sit at a desk all day. Cade frowned as he opened the folder and glanced down at the file. Might as well do this by the book regardless of how unimportant it was, he thought. “Why do you think she’s overreacting?” he asked, scanning the first page of the thick folder. “Because she’s been moved almost half a dozen times in less than five years,” the other man replied. “None of her claims that someone had tracked her down could ever be verified, but she insisted, so we had to move her. As you can guess, that’s kind of earned her the reputation for being paranoid. Since this is the fourth call to our office in the six months she’s been in our district, I’d have to agree.” He sighed. “The others all turned out to be wild goose chases, so this one probably is, too. Just take her statement and tell her that we’ll look into it. That should keep her satisfied for a little while.” Cade nodded. “I’ll get right on it.” Though new to the Marshals Service, Cade could understand his supervisor’s frustration with the woman. Regardless of what Hollywood depicted, the Witness Security Program was very successful. No one in it had ever been harmed while under 30

the protection of the Marshals, or even had their new identity discovered. The Program was a well-run operation, so it was highly unlikely that Riley Barnett, or Katherine Jones, as she was now called, was in any real danger. But he would check it out. At least it would get him out of the office for a little while, he thought. Taking the file his supervisor had given him back to his desk, Cade read through it quickly. Finding the name of the district attorney that had prosecuted the mobsters Riley Barnett had testified against, Cade gave the man a quick call to see if there was any reason to think the woman was in danger. The DA had seemed surprised by the question and told him that the organization Riley Barnett had testified against was completely defunct and that there was no one interested in going after her. Thanking the man, Cade hung up. Even more convinced that Conner was probably right about Riley Barnett overreacting, Cade wrote her address down on a piece of paper, and then headed over to her apartment. Riley Barnett lived just north of Seattle, and since traffic leaving the city wasn’t heavy at that time of day, it didn’t take long for Cade to get to her apartment. Pulling into an empty parking space, he got out of his SUV and walked over to the building, taking in the surroundings as he did so. He did it more out of habit than because he thought there might be a threat, but nonetheless, he automatically found himself making mental notes of the area as he walked up the front steps and into the building. Certainly, nothing seemed out of place, he thought. Riley’s apartment was on the second floor, and as he made his way upstairs, Cade wished he had taken the time to read her file more thoroughly. Not that he needed to, he supposed. Pete Conner had been doing this a lot longer than he had, he reasoned, so if the other man thought Riley Barnett was being paranoid, then she probably was. Taking out his badge as he came to a stop in front of her apartment, Cade reached out to ring the doorbell. A moment later, he heard a woman’s soft voice. “Who is it?” Her tone was cautious, even a little nervous. But then Cade had expected no less. “Cade Cutler, U.S. Marshals Service,” he said. As he spoke, Cade held his badge up to the peephole so that she would be able to see the silver star on it. He waited patiently, figuring that if she was as paranoid as the Deputy Chief seemed to think, it would take her a while to open the door. When she finally opened it, however, it wasn’t to let him in, but to peak out at him through the crack. “Hand me your badge,” she directed. Cade’s brow furrowed. He had to admit that he was a little taken aback at the question at first, but he should have realized she’d be a little suspicious. Flipping his badge closed, Cade handed it over to her. He expected her to give his photo-ID a cursory glance, and then let him in, but instead, she closed the door in his face. He was just starting to wonder if she might be calling the District Office to check him out when he heard the chain being slid from the lock. A moment later, the door opened. The apartment was small and simply furnished, with few personal touches. Which made sense, Cade thought as he let his gaze roam over the living room and eat-in kitchen adjacent to it. She had just been moved half a year ago, so it might take her a while to get comfortable. Of course, he suspected that even after she did settle in, it was 31

likely that the place would never feel exactly homey. When witnesses were relocated, they left their old lives behind, so that meant no family photos or keepsakes from the past. “I called you people yesterday. What took you so long to get here?” Cade turned to find Riley Barnett holding out his badge, an annoyed look on her face. Despite the fact that she was glaring at him, Cade couldn’t help but notice that she was extremely attractive. For some reason, he hadn’t expected that. Tall and slender with curves in all the right places, she had long, blond hair and big, blue eyes, and what he decided were the most kissable lips he’d ever seen. Whoa, get a hold of yourself, dude, he chided harshly. Focus on the job, not what the witness looks like! “Well?” she demanded impatiently when he didn’t answer her question fast enough. Cade reached out to take the badge from her outstretched hand, telling himself to stay cool. “I came as soon as I could, Ms. Barnett,” he said, slipping his badge inside his jacket pocket and taking out the small, spiral notebook he carried. Riley folded her arms with a disdainful snort. “I suppose that’s your way of saying I’m no longer a high priority,” she sneered. Cade felt his ire rise at the derision in her tone, and he had to clench his jaw to bite back the sharp retort that immediately came to mind. This was his first assignment, he reminded himself. He wasn’t going to blow it because he lost his temper. “Well, I’m here now, Ms. Barnett,” he said calmly. “Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me what the problem is.” For a moment, Riley didn’t move. Everything that had happened over the past five years was finally beginning to take its toll, and the fact that the Marshals no longer seemed to be taking her concerns seriously wasn’t helping. She had been at this long enough to have developed an intuition about this kind of thing, and someone was definitely out to get her. But yelling at this cute Marshal wasn’t going to help her cause, she told herself. So, she might as well do as Cade Cutler had suggested and sit down. Realizing the man was waiting for her to do just that, Riley gave him a nod and gestured toward the couch. At the movement, he edged around the coffee table and took a seat on the overstuffed couch. Cade Cutler was different than the other Marshals she’d met, Riley thought as she sat down on the opposite end of the couch. For one thing, he was younger than the others, probably three or four years older than her own twenty-eight, she decided. And good looking, too. Actually, that was putting it mildly, she thought. Tall with broad shoulders and dark hair, he looked like he’d be better suited to modeling than law enforcement. In fact, the reason she’d taken so long to let him into her apartment after he’d handed over his badge was because she’d been staring at the photo on his ID. Even though the picture was barely bigger than a postage stamp, she’d been fascinated by his chiseled features and wide, sensuous mouth. On the opposite end of the couch, Cade flipped open his spiral notebook and looked at her. When he’d first come inside, Riley had thought his eyes were dark, but up close, she could see that they were more gold than brown. Wow, she thought. She’d never seen eyes quite that color.

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“So,” he said. “What makes you think that your identity has been compromised, Ms. Barnett?” He spoke with a slight accent – a drawl, her mother would call it – and Riley wondered where he was originally from as she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen a black SUV parked outside my apartment building every night for the past week,” she explained. “And then yesterday, I saw the same vehicle parked across the street from the bank where I work. That was when I knew I had to call you.” Cade waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t he pointed out, “A lot of people have black SUV’s, Ms. Barnett. Are you sure it was the same one?” Though his tone in no way suggested that he didn’t believe her, Riley still bristled. She was frustrated that no one in the Seattle office seemed to believe anything she said. Each time a Marshal had come out, they had displayed less and less concern. “Of course, it’s the same one,” she said sharply. Cade glanced up. “Did you get a look at who was inside?” She shook her head. “The windows were tinted.” He scribbled something down on the notebook he was holding. “What about a license plate?” Again, she shook her head. “I didn’t see it,” she told him. “What about the make and model of the SUV?” he asked. Her brow furrowed. She’d been too frightened to even think about looking at stuff like that. Besides, she wasn’t very good with cars. She shook her head. Cade closed his notebook and slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “We’ll look into it, Ms. Barnett, and get back to you,” he said, getting to his feet. Riley did the same, her frown deepening. “How are you going to look into it? Will you be posting Marshals outside my apartment building then?” She really hoped so; she hadn’t slept well the past couple of nights. He inclined his head. “If we determine that you’re in danger, then you’ll be given protection,” he told her. “But I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about. As I said, a lot of people own black SUV’s.” Riley stared at him in disbelief. Did she have to end up at the bottom of some river somewhere before they believed her? She opened her mouth to argue, but Cade Cutler was already walking toward the door. Annoyed, she followed after him. “How will you know if there really is a threat from the SUV if there’s no one here to see it?” she persisted. In the small entryway, he turned to give her a placating smile. “Like I said, we’ll look into it.” She folded her arms to glare at him. “You’re not going to do a damn thing, are you?” she said sharply. “Now that you people have already gotten my testimony, you couldn’t care less about what happens to me.” His jaw tightened. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, ignoring what she’d just said as he turned to leave. He was just reaching for the doorknob when the greeting cards on the table along the wall caught his eye. Riley watched in confusion as he picked one up and read it, and then did the same to another and another. But before she could ask what he was doing, he turned to fix her with a hard look. “What the hell are these?” he demanded, holding up the cards. 33

Her brow furrowed. “Birthday cards,” she said, her tone implying that it should have been obvious to him. “I can see that!” he growled. “But this one’s from your mother! And these,” he added, gesturing with the others, “are from the rest of your family! She shrugged. “Duh! Who do you think sends birthday cards?” His eyes narrowing, Cade tossed the stack of birthday cards back onto the table and strode toward her. “How about, duh, you’re in the Witness Protection Program? Which means that you’re not supposed to tell anyone where you are. That includes your family! You’re so worried about your identity being compromised and here you are broadcasting it to the world!” Ignoring the implied insult, Riley lifted her chin to glare up at him. “My mother would never tell anyone where I am,” she told him coldly. “And neither would any of my sisters.” His brows drew together. “Really? How reassuring,” he scoffed. “What about the people who might be snooping through your family’s mail to find out where you are? Have you thought about that?” She frowned at the words, wondering if that could be true, but then told herself it was ridiculous. Nobody, not even Albert Donatti, the main mobster she had testified against, would bother with digging through the mail just to find her. Besides, even if he had, her family had addressed the envelopes to her new name. Riley gave Cade another shrug. “That would be impossible because my mom and my sisters didn’t put my real name on the envelope,” she said. “I’m not stupid, you know!” “That’s debatable,” he retorted. “So, how many relatives does your family have living on the West Coast?” She gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?” He held up the card from her mother. “It doesn’t matter what the name on the envelope says,” he told her. “The card says Happy Birthday to My Daughter on the front. I think people will figure out that it’s you.” Before she could say anything, he added, “I’m going to have to call my boss and let him know about this.” “Good,” she muttered. “Because I want to talk to him, too. That way I can tell him that you don’t know what the hell you’re doing, and that he needs to send someone out here who does!” At her words, Cade paused in the act of reaching into his pocket for his cell phone, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, that does it!” he growled. Riley braced herself for another one of his snide comments, and was totally surprised when Cade grabbed her by the arm and marched her over to the couch instead. “What are you...?” she began as he sat down, but the rest of what she’d been going to say came out in a rush of air as he gave her arm a quick tug that sent her tumbling headlong over his knee. Riley was so stunned that she simply lay there draped over his lap as she tried to catch her breath. When she finally came to her senses a moment later, it was to push herself upright, but a strong hand on her back held her down. What the hell was he doing?

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Outraged, she turned to glare over her shoulder at him, only to let out a startled gasp when she felt his hand come down hard on her jean-clad bottom. Oh my God, the brute was spanking her! “Of all the...owwwww!” she cried as his hand connected with her other cheek. “Let me go right now! You can’t do this!” Cade only ignored her demand, instead smacking her ass again, even harder this time. “No, I’m not letting you go,” he ground out. “And I can do this. You are without a doubt the most irritating female I’ve ever met and I’m damn well going to do something about it!” As he spoke, Cade punctuated every other word with a hard smack that had Riley squirming and protesting after each blow. “I’ll...owwwww!...have your...owwwww!...badge...owwwww!... for this, you jerk!” she yelled. Riley had hoped that threat would be enough to make Cade stop, but to her dismay, he continued to spank her. Over and over, his hand came down on her upturned bottom, first one cheek, and then the other until they were stinging! And the more she squirmed, the tighter he held her. He was so strong that there was no way she could break out of his grasp. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! On and on and on it went until her bottom was really starting to sting from the relentless punishment. Despite the fact that her struggles had absolutely no effect on him, she refused to give up. Reaching back with one hand, she beat against his leg with her fist. It didn’t do any good, of course, but it certainly made her feel better. “It seems obvious to me that someone should have done this a long time ago,” Cade told her. “If they had, maybe you wouldn’t be such a brat right now.” Even though he had been spanking her the whole time he was talking, he stopped lecturing her briefly so that he could focus on applying some really hard smacks right to the part of her bottom where her cheeks met the tops of her thighs. Ouch! She never knew that area was so sensitive. It stung like crazy even through her jeans! “I can appreciate how difficult it is for you to be in the Witness Protection Program,” he continued. “But that doesn’t give you the right to be so obnoxious!” Riley opened her mouth to spit out a retort, but the only thing that came out was a yelp as his hand connected solidly with both cheeks at the same time. God, she hadn’t realized his hands were so big. That really stung! And then, finally it was over and Riley was back on her feet. Torn between slapping Cade Cutler across that handsome face of his for what he’d just done, and rubbing the sting from her throbbing ass, she chose the latter. She was afraid that if she tried to smack him, she’d be right over his knee again anyway. As she stood there rubbing her bottom, Riley thought that she should at least be telling Cade off, but for the first time in her life, she was speechless. The man had given her a spanking! What kind of brute had they sent to protect her?!

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Chapter Two Well, he had probably just set the record for having the shortest career in the history of the U.S. Marshals, Cade thought bitterly. His family would be so proud. Then again, getting fired might be the least of his worries. After all, spanking a protectee was almost certainly on the shortlist of absolute dumbass things to do. Because of what he’d done, it was likely that he might never get another job in law enforcement of any kind ever again. It wouldn’t matter to his supervisors that the dang woman had completely deserved the spanking he’d given her. Cade seriously doubted they would understand. Even if Riley Barnett had deserved it, he was still surprised with himself for letting her get to him like that. He’d never done anything like that to a woman before. But she seemed to have an almost unnatural talent for pushing his buttons. Hell, she’d been doing it ever since he’d first walked into the apartment! And then she’d made that snide comment about him not knowing how to do his job. That had really hit a sore spot and before he knew it, he’d found himself dragging her over his knee and spanking that tight, little bottom of hers. He had to admit that it had definitely been satisfying. And there was a part of him that felt the spanking had even been justified. To say that Cade had been shocked when he’d seen the birthday cards from Riley’s family was putting it mildly. She had been in the program long enough to know what to do and what not to do. That she’d actually been in contact with her mother and sisters had to be the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. He wouldn’t have thought anyone could be that stupid. And now, he had to tell the Deputy Chief about it. Shit. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Cade took out his cell phone and flipped it open. Punching in the number, he kept one eye on Riley as he waited for Pete Conner to answer. Cade was actually a little surprised that the blonde was still standing where he’d left her. He would have thought she’d run off to the bedroom and slam the door in a snit. Instead, she just stood there rubbing her freshly-spanked bottom, a pout on her full lips. He could see her wince now and then as she explored his handiwork. Good. He hoped it still stung. “Conner,” a gruff voice said in his ear. Cade dragged his attention away from Riley. “It’s Cutler,” he said. “I’m at Riley Barnett’s apartment.” “Is there a problem?” his boss asked. Cade glanced at Riley. “You could say that,” he told the other man. “There’s not much substance to her claims that someone’s been watching her, but her identity has been compromised.” Quickly, Cade told him about the birthday cards he’d found, and the fact that she had admitted to telling her family where she was. On the other end of the line, Conner swore. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” “I wish I were,” Cade said grimly. The other man sighed. “We’re going to have to move her again,” he said. “And she can’t stay at her apartment until we do, which means that you’ll have to take her to a safe house.” As his boss rattled off the address for the safe house the Marshals Service had in Puyallup, Washington, Cade automatically wedged the cell phone against his shoulder so that he could write it down on the spiral notebook that he’d taken from his jacket pocket. 36

“Sir,” Cade said when the other man had finished. “You might want to have another Marshal meet us there so that he can stay with Ms. Barnett. She and I got off on the wrong foot. I don’t think I’m the best fit to work with her.” There was silence on the other end for a moment, then, “Are you telling me that you can’t handle a simple babysitting job, Cutler?” Cade felt himself flush. “No, Sir,” he said tightly. “Good!” Conner barked. “Then do your job, or go find another one!” Cade’s gaze went to the blonde as he snapped his cell phone shut. From the smirk on her face, it was obvious she’d overheard his boss yelling at him. Great, he thought irritably. Not only was Conner pissed at him, but he was going to be stuck with Riley Barnett for who knew how long. Just fucking great. It was obvious from the yelling on the other end of the line that Cade Cutler’s superior was chewing him out. Despite the fact that her bottom was still stinging like crazy, Riley took a great amount of pleasure in seeing the Marshal get berated over the phone. On the other side of the room, Cade was slipping his cell phone back into his pocket. “I’m taking you to a safe house, so you’ll need to pack a bag,” he told her curtly. “And make it quick. We’re leaving right away.” Riley blinked. If he thought she was going to some safe house with him after the spanking he’d given her, then he was crazy! “I’m not going anywhere with you!” He regarded her for a moment in silence, his jaw tight. “I’m sure you overheard the conversation on the phone. No one else is being assigned to your case, so that means you’re stuck with me.” She lifted her chin. “Why do I need to move again?” she demanded petulantly. “You just told your boss that you don’t think the SUV is anything to worry about.” His jaw tightened even more. “And I’m probably right,” he said. “But I might be wrong, too. And by telling your family where you are, you’ve made the chances that there is someone after you a hell of a lot more likely. Regardless, the Witness Security Program is founded on one fundamental rule – never compromise your identity. Yours has been, Ms. Barnett. And since I have no intention of failing on this assignment, you’re going to that safe house with me, one way or another.” He lifted a brow. “Now, which is it going to be? Are you going to voluntarily pack a bag and come with me, or do I need to spank you until you change your mind?” Riley gasped, blushing hotly as she remembered how easily Cade Cutler had put her over his knee and spanked her bottom a few minutes earlier. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?” she said. Turning on her heel, Riley stomped down the hall and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She leaned back against it, seething. Great, Riley thought miserably. Now, she was going to have to move again. And she really liked it there, too. Not only did she have a terrific job, but she had finally started to make some friends. She’d even had a date lined up for that weekend; the first in over a year. Dammit! Not for the first time did she wonder what her life would be like if she hadn’t stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong all those years ago. She had been working late one night at the Manhattan financial firm where she was a junior stockbroker when she had overheard a conversation between her boss and 37

some other men. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid much attention, but it had seemed like odd time to be having a business meeting. So without them noticing, she had crept closer to the office to listen to what they were saying. When she had realized they were talking about money laundering, she had immediately gone to the police. The next thing she knew, she was wearing a wire and planting bugs for the Feds. At the time, the whole thing had seemed so exciting, like she was a spy or something. Talking her way into upper-level meetings, skulking around in the middle of the night making copies of incriminating documents, and hacking into her boss’s computer to find evidence had all seemed like so much fun. Especially being fresh out of college like she had been. But then the real world had intruded and she found herself testifying against not only her boss, but a high-powered mob figure as well. That was when it hadn’t been fun anymore. Her life had become hell at that point. That had been five years ago. Since then, she had been moved from one city to another, one apartment to another, one job to another, one identity to another. And now, it was going to start all over again. To make matters worse, Cade Cutler had spanked her! She could still feel every spot on her bottom where his hand had come down. It was a good thing she had on jeans instead of a skirt. As it was, she was probably going to have marks, maybe even bruises. She had never been so manhandled in her life! And to think she had actually thought he was cute! Suddenly realizing that she’d been standing there for at least five minutes, Riley gave herself a mental shake. Half afraid that the Marshal would come in to check to see what was keeping her and make good on his threat to spank her again, she hurried across the bedroom to the closet and took out her overnight bag. Going over to her dresser, she pulled open her underwear drawer and taking out a dozen pairs of bikini panties, put them in the bag. Closing that drawer, she opened the one next to it and picked out a couple of lacy push-up bras before pushing it closed again. Opening the drawer below that one, she took out a pair of shorts and a cami-top, then went to the closet and grabbed several Tshirts and an extra pair of jeans, all of which she packed into the bag. Satisfied that she had enough clothes, she went into the adjoining bathroom to grab her toiletries, and added them to the bag as well. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, Riley was surprised to see that not only was her face flushed, but that her long, blond hair looked as if she’d just turned her head upside down and given it a good shake. Then again, she reminded herself, she had just spent a good ten minutes draped over Cade Cutler’s lap getting spanked. Brute, she thought as she took the brush from her overnight bag and ran it through her hair. Dropping her hairbrush back into the bag a moment later, she zipped it closed, and then left the room. Cade was just checking his watch when Riley walked into the living room, and he looked up at her entrance. “It took you long enough,” he grumbled. “I was just about to come in and get you.” Riley gave him a glare. “Good thing you didn’t,” she said as she set the bag down on the floor and walked over to pick up her shoulder bag from the chair. “It would have taken me even longer with you giving me packing advice.” Cade said nothing, but only stood there waiting impatiently while Riley dug through her purse. She was probably deliberately being slow, he thought. God, she was 38

irritating, he thought. And now, he was going to be stuck in some safe house with her. The thought was enough to make his jaw clench. Over by the chair, Riley took her sunglasses from her purse and put them on before rummaging through her shoulder bag again. Coming up with her keys a moment later, she announced that she was ready to go. Finally, Cade thought to himself as he bent to pick up her overnight bag. Opening the door, he held it for her so that she could walk out ahead of him. Riley stood where she was for so long that he thought he was going to have to prompt her, but after giving her small apartment one more wistful look, she brushed past him and stepped into the hallway. They made their way down the stairs in silence. Once outside, Cade led her over to his Jeep, his gaze automatically checking to see if the black SUV that Riley had said she’d seen was anywhere around. She was looking for it, too, he noticed. But it was nowhere in sight. Not that he had expected it to be. Neither of them spoke on the drive down to Puyallup, which suited Cade just fine. The less interaction he and Riley Barnett had, the better. As safe houses went, it wasn’t bad, Riley thought as Cade pulled into the driveway of a small two-story house an hour and a half later. It was in a crowded part of town with a couple of strip malls and stores just down the street. Not a bad place to be stuck. Not that she’d probably spend much time there anyway; the other times, she had been moved within a few days. Walking up to the door with Cade several moments later, a thought abruptly occurred to Riley. They hadn’t stopped for a key, and she wondered how they were going to get inside. She was about to ask Cade that same question when she noticed the keyless-entry pad beside the door. Riley watched as the Marshal punched in the four-digit code, automatically making a mental note of the combination. Numbers had always come easy to her, which was one of the reasons she had enjoyed being a stockbroker so much. Well, at least that was one thing she could say about the Marshals. They always found her a job related to money and investing. Walking into the entryway, Riley stood for a moment to survey her new surroundings. The house was a simple design, with a living room, an eat-in kitchen, and a small room down the hallway that was probably a bathroom taking up the downstairs, while a narrow staircase directly off the entryway led to the second floor. Toward the back of the house, she could see another door that led to the backyard. Beside Riley, Cade set down her bag as he swept the house with his gaze. “I’m going to go check out the upstairs,” he told her. As he headed for the steps, Riley wandered into the kitchen. She had been too nervous that morning to eat much of anything for breakfast and now that it was nearing late afternoon, she was starting to get hungry. Hopefully, the pantry was stocked. But both the pantry and the cabinets were empty, much to her dismay. Her brow furrowing, she opened the fridge, but besides an old carton of baking soda, it was empty, too. Great, she thought. Hearing Cade’s footsteps behind her, she turned to frown at him. “There’s nothing to eat,” she said as he walked into the kitchen. He shrugged. “We’ll get pizza delivered.” 39

Riley looked at him in surprise. “Three times a day?” He shrugged again. “Why not? What’s wrong with pizza?” “Nothing, but no one could eat pizza that much,” she protested. Admittedly, she liked pizza a lot, but even she didn’t want to eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “Besides, I have to eat more often than that, anyway. If I don’t, then my blood sugar gets too low, and I get grumpy.” Cade lifted a brow at that, but before he could say anything, she continued. “Can’t we just run to the store and go shopping?” she asked. His mouth tightened. “What part of witness protection don’t you understand?” She sighed. “Then how about you go to the grocery store?” “And leave you alone?” he asked incredulously. “I don’t think so.” Riley folded her arms. “They call it a safe house because it’s safe, right? And you said yourself that I’m not in danger, so why can’t I stay here while you run to the store?” she demanded. “It’s not going to take you any more than thirty minutes, tops. I’ll be fine.” When Cade made no reply, she took that to mean he was giving the whole thing some thought, so she added, “You won’t like me when I’m grumpy. Trust me.” He shook his head with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll go to the store,” he agreed. “But only if you promise to stay put.” She made a show of looking around. “Where would I go?” she said. Cade gave her an annoyed look. “Just do it, okay?” he told her. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.” Riley followed him to the door, quickening her steps to keep up with his long strides. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?” she said. He turned to face her. “I was just going to get some peanut butter and a loaf of bread.” She opened her mouth to protest, but then changed her mind. Cade had agreed to go shopping for her; she supposed she should at least be gracious. And besides, she did like peanut butter. “Okay,” she said. “But make sure the peanut butter is the reduced-fat kind. And that the bread is one-hundred percent whole wheat.” Cade’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing. “Oh, and get some skim milk, too,” she added as he turned the doorknob. “And yogurt. Maybe a box of cereal, too. Anything that’s whole-grain.” She paused. “And some fruit and vegetables.” He lifted a brow. “Anything else?” he asked dryly. She thought a moment. “Chocolate,” she said, and then added, “Maybe you should write all that down.” “I got it.” He opened the door. “Remember, stay put. And don’t open the door to anyone.” After Cade had left, Riley considered unpacking, but then decided it would just be easier to live out of her suitcase. Wishing she’d remembered to bring a book or two with her, she went into the living room and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. Flopping down onto the couch, she turned on the television. Surfing through the channels didn’t take her long since the house was only set up with basic cable. Darn it, she thought. She should have asked Cade to stop at the video store on the corner and get some movies while he was out. Then again, maybe it was a 40

good idea that she hadn’t. He’d probably come back with a bunch of action movies that had lots of stuff blowing up and no real story. Still, watching a movie or two would have helped to pass the time. Suddenly, an idea came to her. Why not go to the video store herself? Because Cade told you to stay put, a little voice in her head reminded her. He’d also told her that she wasn’t in any danger, Riley pointed out. And besides, it was only a short walk to the video store. She’d seen on in the strip mall down the street. Come to think of it, there was a bookstore, too. She could grab a couple of videos and some books and still be back well before Cade. And if he didn’t like it, well, then that was tough. He might be able to drag her off and uproot her whole life all over again, but that didn’t mean she had to be bored the whole time they were at the safe house. Her mind made up, Riley turned off the television, picked up her purse, and started for the door. Cade was pretty sure it wasn’t procedure to leave Riley alone at the safe house while he went grocery shopping, but it had seemed easier than listening to her complain all night. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, she had been right. They couldn’t eat pizza the whole time they were there. Besides, it hadn’t taken more than thirty minutes to run to the store and back. And in reality, she was right about something else, too. Even if procedure dictated that they move her again, she wasn’t really in any danger. So, this run to the grocery store wasn’t that big of a deal. Pulling into the driveway, Cade shut off the engine and grabbed the two grocery bags full of food from the back seat. As he neared the house, he shifted them to one arm so that he could use his free hand to punch in the entry code on the keypad beside the door. Riley was standing in the living room when he walked in, and she turned at his entrance. His gaze immediately locked on the DVD’s in her hand, and his eyes narrowed. “Where the hell did you get those?” he demanded. She set them down on the coffee table. “From the video store on the corner,” she said. Ignoring the scowl he gave her, Riley took one of the bags from him and walked into the kitchen to put it down on the counter. Cade followed. “You went out to the video store after I told you to stay put?” He put the bag he was carrying down on the counter beside hers with a thud. “I didn’t spank you hard enough before, did I?” Riley whirled around, her face flushed with embarrassment at the mention of the spanking he’d given her. “I don’t know what the big deal is!” she snapped. “You said that the SUV was nothing to worry about, so I’m not in any danger. Or were you wrong about that?” Cade clenched his jaw. “I said that the SUV was probably nothing to worry about,” he corrected. “But that doesn’t mean I want you traipsing around all over town, completely disregarding everything I tell you.” She folded her arms to glare up at him. “I didn’t go traipsing around all over town. I only went to the video store on the corner,” she protested, and then, turning back to the bag of groceries, mumbled, “I won’t do it again.” “Damn right you won’t!” 41

Biting back a retort, Riley reached into the bag, only to let out a gasp of surprise as Cade’s hand closed over her arm. “What...?” she started to say, but the words trailed off as he marched her over to the kitchen table and the straight-backed chairs there. Her eyes went wide as she realized what he intended. “Oh, no you don’t!” she told him. Riley tried to hang back, but Cade had already sat down and was pulling her over his knee. She tried to resist, but it did no good. He was way too strong for her. That didn’t stop her from flailing and kicking at him, but within moments, she was staring down at the linoleum floor, her bottom in the air and his hand on her back. “Dammit!” she yelled, beating her fist against his muscular thigh. “Let me go!” “Not until you and I come to an understanding!” Cade told her. “Because if you don’t start doing what I tell you, then this cute, little ass of yours is going to be sore the entire time we’re stuck here.” For some ridiculous reason, Riley felt herself blushing at his words, but before she could open her mouth to say something rude in return, he brought his hand down hard on her jean-clad bottom. “Owwwww!” she yelped. But the sound was lost as another resounding smack echoed throughout the kitchen. Having just gotten spanked a few hours earlier, her bottom was already beginning to sting, and Riley squirmed as he brought his hand down over and over. “Owwwww!” she protested. “You can...owwwww!...stop now! I already...owwwww!...told you I wouldn’t...owwwww!...go to...owwwww!...the stupid video store again!” “Somehow, I don’t really believe your promises. So, this is to make sure you think twice before you go anywhere without my permission again!” he told her in between spanks. “Going to that video store was foolhardy and dangerous. No one may be after you now, but if someone did manage to find you through those dumbass birthday cards, then they could track you by that damn video-rental card of yours. But you didn’t think of that, did you? Of course not! Because you’re too busy telling me that I don’t know how to do my damn job!” Between her protesting and the sound his hand made as it smacked down on her ass over and over, Riley barely heard half of what Cade said, but when he paused a moment later to ask her if she understood, she nodded her head emphatically. “Yes, yes, yes!” she told him. She thought that after the lecture that he was done, but then he continued to rain hard smacks down all over her bottom. “Hey!” she protested. “I said I understood!” “Good,” he said, bringing his hand down again. “Now that we have that part taken care of, I want you to give me your solemn word that you won’t go anywhere without my permission?” She nodded her head vigorously. Right then, her bottom was stinging so much that she thought she probably would have agreed to just about anything. “I didn’t hear you,” Cade insisted, giving her a particular hard smack right on her sit-spot. Riley blinked at both how hard the spank was, as well as what he obviously expected her to say. He actually wanted her to say the words out loud? She’d thought 42

that being put over his knee for a spanking was the ultimate in embarrassment, but this was even more humiliating! When she continued to hesitate, he prompted her with another hard smack, this time to both her cheeks. “I don’t think I’m getting through to you,” he told her. “Maybe you can’t feel the full effect of the spanking through the jeans. Maybe I should pull them down.” Her eyes went wide at that. “Nooooooo!” she cried, her face turning bright red. “Okay, okay! I promise that I won’t go anywhere without your permission! Are you satisfied now, you jerk?!” Riley regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Though she really did think Cade was a jerk, calling him one while in her present position probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, and she held her breath as she waited for him to start spanking her again. But to her surprise, he took her arm and put her back on her feet. She immediately reached around with both hands to cup her throbbing asscheeks, only to gasp. If anything, they seemed to sting even more now that he had stopped spanking her. And that threat to pull down her jeans had been unbelievable! He really was a brute, she thought.

43

Chapter Three After the spanking Cade had just given her, Riley had been sure there would be marks on her bottom, but when she stormed off to the bathroom afterward, she was surprised to see that there weren’t any. Her bottom was really pink, though, she thought as she pushed down her jeans and gazed at her rosy asscheeks in the mirror above the sink. And, she found out a moment later when she reached back with one hand to rub, they were tender to the touch, too. She couldn’t believe that Cade had spanked her again. And for something as stupid as going to the video store, too! Like someone was really going to track her down using her video-rental card! That wasn’t even logical! Well, one thing was for sure, when she got settled in her new place, wherever that was, she was going to call his boss and tell the man that Cade Cutler was completely out of control! She’d pull out her cell phone and call his boss right then, but the knowledge that she was going to be stuck with this guy a little while longer made her realize that wouldn’t be a very good idea. But she’d get him in the long run, she promised herself Pleased at the idea of getting back at the Marshal for manhandling her, Riley allowed herself a small smile as she wiggled her jeans up over her hips and buttoned them. She had never realized that denim was so rough until the material rubbed against her tender bottom. Ouch! Though part of her would rather have spent the rest of the night in the bathroom rather than have to face Cade again, the other part of her refused to be intimidated by him. So, after checking her reflection in the mirror, she tucked her long, blond hair behind her ear and walked out of the room. Cade was standing at the counter pouring milk into two large glasses when she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, and he looked up at her entrance. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up to reveal nicely muscled forearms. Oh yeah, she thought. He might be a jerk, but he was a good looking one. He should definitely be modeling instead of working in law enforcement. “I made you something to eat,” he said, glancing at the table. Riley’s gaze went to the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches on the table. For a moment, she considered telling him to take the sandwich and shove it, but at the sight of food, her stomach began to growl loudly, and she wisely decided to give in to her hunger and eat instead. Murmuring a soft, “thank you,” she pulled out a chair and sat down, wincing a little as her bottom touched the seat. At least he had remembered to get whole-wheat bread, she thought as she slid the plate closer to her. And skim milk, too, she noticed as he opened the fridge to put the plastic container on the shelf. Closing the door, Cade picked up the two glasses and walked over to the table. Setting one of them down in front of Riley, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. They ate in silence, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the room. “So,” Cade said after several long minutes. “How did you get into the Witness Protection Program?” 44

Riley looked up in surprise, taken aback not so much by the question, but by the fact that the Marshal was actually bothering to talk to her. As she sipped her skim milk, she considered that maybe he was trying to make up for being such a jerk earlier. “I testified against a mobster,” she answered. Cade’s mouth quirked. “I figured that much,” he said. “I was referring to the particulars. I didn’t really have time to read the whole file before I came over to your apartment.” She said nothing for a moment, not sure if she felt like having a conversation with the man who had given her not one, but two spankings that day. Then she decided, why not? It was either that or sit there in silence for the rest of the night. And it had been a long time since she’d been able to talk to anyone about it. “I was a stockbroker at a Manhattan investment firm,” she explained, setting down her glass and sitting back in her chair. “I was working late one night when I heard my boss talking to some men in his office. It wasn’t odd for him to be in the office at that time of night, but it was kind of unusual for a client to have an appointment that late, so being a little curious, I wandered down the hall to hear what they were talking about.” She let out a sigh. “I wish now that I hadn’t.” Cade waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, he prompted her. “What did you hear?” She chewed on her lower lip, remembering. “They were talking about laundering money,” she said. “Apparently, my boss had been in bed with the mob for years.” “And they realized you were listening in on their conversation and came after you?” Cade surmised. Riley shook her head. “Actually, they had no idea I had heard anything at all. They didn’t even know I was there,” she said. “Being the upstanding citizen that I am, I decided to go to the cops and tell them what I’d heard. It never occurred to me that I would have any further involvement. But the next day, the FBI showed up at my apartment wanting me to go undercover for them.” Cade was stunned by that. He’d been surprised enough when Riley had said she’d been a stockbroker, but hearing that she had gone undercover for the Feds was something he would never have thought someone like her would do. After how careless she’d been with keeping her identity a secret, he had to admit, he’d thought her a rather dim bulb. He supposed that he was going to have to reassess his opinion of her. At least in some ways. Across the table from him, Riley ran her hand through her long hair, pushing it back from her face. “If I had known then that my whole life would get turned upside down and I would end up in the Witness Protection Program, I never would have done it,” she said. “But at the time, it sounded exciting, so the FBI didn’t have to work too hard to persuade me to wear a wire for them.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “I was really naïve back then, and I got caught up in the whole spy thing, thinking I was saving the world.” Her smile faded. “But after the FBI got all the evidence they needed, the real world came crashing down. When they showed up at my door with U.S. Marshals and told me about the Witness Protection Program, I finally realized what I had gotten myself into. I lost my job and my friends, and I haven’t seen my family since then. Plus, I’ve been moved all over the place and forced to live under a different assumed identity every time. It’s enough to make anyone wonder if it had been worth it.” 45

Cade frowned. He had never really thought about what people in the Witness Protection Program gave up. He knew how close he was to his family, though. If someone told him that he could never talk to or see them again, he might not go along with it any better than Riley had. That thought almost made him regret yelling at her earlier about being in contact with her family. He probably would have done the same thing in her position. For a moment, she looked so forlorn and alone sitting there that he had resist the urge to reach across the table and cover her hand with his. “What you did, going up against the mob, took a lot of courage,” he told her quietly instead. She regarded him in silence for a long moment, her blue eyes sad. “Maybe,” she agreed. “But it was also stupid.” Cade felt like telling her that it hadn’t been stupid. That it had been brave and unselfish. But he didn’t think she really wanted to hear something like that, particularly not when she was feeling so down, so instead, he said nothing. Pushing her chair back, Riley picked up her half-full glass of milk and went into the living room, leaving Cade alone at the table. He sat there, watching as she picked up one of the movies, popped it into the DVD player, and then sat down on the couch, kicked off her shoes, and curled her legs under her. With a sigh, Cade pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Picking up their empty plates, he rinsed them off, and then set them in the rack to dry before grabbing his glass of milk from the table and going into the living room. The movies Riley had picked out were standard chick flicks, all sappy story and no action, and Cade was bored senseless by them. But since there was little else to entertain him, he sat on the couch and watched them with her. Sitting through two of them was almost more than he could take, however, and he was relieved when Riley finally announced that she was going to bed after the second one. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, Cade flipped through the channels disinterestedly. He should probably go to bed, too, he thought. Despite the fact that the house had two bedrooms, he had decided he would sleep on the couch downstairs. He supposed it was silly really, since Riley wasn’t in any danger, but it was standard procedure and he thought he should probably follow the book regardless of the threat. Before he turned in for the night, Cade did a sweep of the house, checking all the doors and windows to make sure they were locked, as well as pushing aside the curtains to take a look outside. Except for the occasional car driving by, it was quiet. Cade was just about to let the curtain on the living room window fall back into place when he noticed a dark SUV coming up the street. His eyes narrowed as it approached, but though the vehicle slowed a little as it passed the house, it didn’t stop, and he felt himself relax as it drove off. A lot of people drove dark SUV’s, he told himself, including his own brother. The ground floor secure, Cade turned away from the window and headed upstairs to check on Riley before going to bed himself. The door to the bedroom on the right had been left slightly ajar, and he could see the soft glow of light through the opening. Not wanting to wake Riley if she were asleep, Cade didn’t knock on the door, but instead, quietly pushed it open just enough to poke his head in. If she were still up, no doubt she’d have a few choice words for him about barging in on her, he thought.

46

But to his surprise, Riley was sound asleep. It turned out that the light wasn’t coming from the bedroom at all, but from the one in the adjoining bathroom, which she had left on. That made sense, he thought. As scared and paranoid as she was, she probably always slept with a light on. In the soft glow, Cade could see her slender form outlined beneath the covers. She was curled up in a ball with the blanket tucked up under her chin and to his surprise, the image touched his heart. She looked so small and vulnerable, he thought. And at the same time, very sexy. Abruptly, Cade was reminded of the spanking he’d given her earlier that evening. Though he had been really angry at how stupid she had been, he suddenly felt badly about putting her over his knee again. Then again, she had deserved it, he told himself. If someone really were after her, they would have had the perfect opportunity to grab her the moment she’d stepped foot outside the safe house. Even so, she’d had a pretty hard time of it lately, he reminded himself, so maybe he should cut her a break. And yet, even as he decided that spanking her again might have been a little overboard, there was a part of him that was secretly pleased Riley had given him a reason to do it. Standing there now, with her looking so sexy, he could admit that he had enjoyed spanking her. When he had put her over his knee the first time back at her apartment, Cade been too intent on what he was doing to pay much attention her ass. And though he’d been no less angry with Riley when he’d spanked her when he’d come back from the store than he had been in her apartment, he had found himself taking the time to admire her curves while she’d been wiggling around on his lap. No doubt about it, her ass was amazing! Well-rounded enough to fill out her jeans nicely, but still firm enough to show that she definitely worked out. He could just imagine what she’d look like under those jeans. Too bad she hadn’t given him a reason to pull them down, he thought. Then again, it was probably just as well, because he would have had a really hard time concentrating on actually spanking her. He was getting hard just thinking about it. Cade swore under his breath and backed out of the bedroom. Get a grip on yourself, man! You’re a U.S. Marshal, not some dude looking for a hot lay! It was his job to protect Riley Barnett, not bed her. Annoyed with himself for even having those thoughts, Cade went back downstairs and checked the doors one more time. Emptying his pockets, he dumped everything including his cell phone onto the coffee table. Then he slid his gun holster from his belt and set it down on the table as well. Sitting down, he lie back on the couch and pillowing his head on his arms, closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. But thoughts of the beautiful Riley Barnett sleeping just upstairs kept him awake long into the night. Cade was still asleep when his cell phone rang the next morning. Immediately reaching for it, he flipped it open and held it to his ear. “Cutler,” he said. “It’s Conner.” The man’s voice was gruff in his ear. “Everything going well?” Cade couldn’t help but notice that the Deputy Chief didn’t actually wait for him to reply before continuing. “Riley Barnett’s a low priority, so it’ll take us a little while to find a more permanent place to put her,” the other man said. “The bean counters really don’t like the 47

idea of spending the money to move her again when there’s no definitive threat. I know that you couldn’t give a crap about that, but nevertheless, it means you’ll be stuck with her for a while longer.” “How much longer?” Cade asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Conner sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe a week or more. You have a problem with that?” Cade’s jaw tightened, but he knew better than to voice his displeasure to the Deputy Chief. The man would only take that to mean he couldn’t do the job. “No problem, Sir,” he told his boss. Conner grunted, obviously expecting Cade to complain, and surprised when he hadn’t. “Good,” he said curtly. “I’ll be in touch.” Cade flipped his phone closed with a sigh. A week or more at the safe house with Riley, he thought. God, that was going to feel like forever. He wondered how many chick flicks that would equate to. A thought suddenly occurred to him then. He didn’t have any clothes with him. Hell, he didn’t even have a toothbrush. He was going to have to go back to his apartment, he realized. Which posed a problem of a different kind; he couldn’t leave Riley at the safe house while he went all the way back to Seattle. Who knew what kind of trouble she would get into if he did? Of course, if he had another Marshal backing him up on this like he was supposed to, it wouldn’t be a problem, he thought. But he didn’t. He was completely on his own, which meant he’d have no choice but to take her with him. It wasn’t exactly procedure, but what else could he do?

48

Chapter Four Cade was in the kitchen when Riley came downstairs. Last night had been the first time she’d slept well in a long time and as much as she didn’t want to attribute it to the Marshal’s presence, she knew he was the reason. He might have a nasty habit of spanking her, but she couldn’t deny he made her feel safe. He glanced at her as he poured coffee into mugs. “I talked to my supervisor this morning,” he told her. “It’s going to take a while to get you set up with a new identity, so until then, we’ll be staying here.” Riley nodded, but said nothing as he handed her one of the mugs. Well, at least she’d get a few more days in the Pacific Northwest before they moved her off to wherever it was they decided to put her, she thought. “The thing is,” Cade continued. “I don’t have anything with me other than what I’m wearing, so we’re going to have to take a run up to my apartment so I can get some things.” She frowned at that. It was a bit unusual that the Marshals weren’t sending out anyone to relieve Cade. Maybe there was a budget crunch or something at this time of year. Or maybe it just showed how low of a priority she really was to them, she thought bitterly. But she supposed she couldn’t blame Cade; it wasn’t his fault. She was sure it wasn’t any picnic for him, either, and she couldn’t help but wonder who he had peeved off to get stuck on this assignment all by himself. So, after a breakfast of whole-wheat toast and coffee, they drove up to Cade’s apartment in Seattle. At least it was nice to get out, she thought. At first, Riley simply enjoyed the scenery, but as they neared the city, she found herself thinking out loud. “Do you know where they’re going to be relocating me?” she asked, turning her attention from the window to Cade. His hair was a little tousled from sleep, but even with bedhead, he still looked incredibly handsome for this early in the morning. He gave her a sidelong glance. “Not yet,” he said. “But in all honesty, I doubt they would tell me even if they knew.” She sighed and looked out the window again. “I hate having to move,” she said. “I really liked living in Seattle.” Cade said nothing for a moment. “Where did you live before this?” Riley turned away from the window to look at him again. “Indiana first, and then Wisconsin for about a year,” she said. “After that, I lived in Iowa for a little while, and then Utah. They were okay, but I really like the Pacific Northwest the best. I’ll miss it.” Beside her, Cade nodded. “I know what you mean,” he said as he took the exit that led into downtown Seattle. “When they assigned me to the Seattle office, I wasn’t too thrilled with idea of moving here. I thought it was going to be gray and rainy all the time, but when I got here, I decided that the place was actually pretty great.” Her lip curved into a small smile. She hadn’t been too keen about moving to a place where it was cold and rainy all the time, either, but then she’d been pleasantly surprised to learn that it didn’t rain all year round, but was sunny and warm for the spring and summer months. “You’re not originally from around here then?” she said to the Marshal. He shook his head. “I grew up in Dallas,” he told her. 49

Her smile broadened. “I thought I detected a slight accent.” Cade chuckled. “That’s not an accent,” he told, giving her an offended look. “It’s called a drawl.” Riley had to laugh. “My mistake,” she said. “A drawl, then.” He glanced at her. “Speaking of accents, you don’t sound like a typical New Yorker.” “That’s because I grew up in Connecticut,” she explained. “I moved to Manhattan after I graduated from college.” Turning onto a side street, Cade pulled up outside an apartment building. Though it looked like it had been built decades ago, inside it was well kept, and Riley thought it very charming as he led the way up the stairs to the second floor. Cade’s apartment had a breathtaking view of Puget Sound and the Cascade Mountains beyond, and Riley found her gaze drawn to the window the moment she stepped inside. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes,” Cade told her as he closed the door. Riley nodded absently as he strode across the living room and disappeared down the hallway and into what she assumed was his bedroom. As bachelor pads went, it was nice, she thought as she looked around. There were the requisite television, CD player, and various other electronic equipment, of course, but there were no piles of dirty clothes on the floor or dishes in the sink like she had would have expected to see. Maybe that was because Cade didn’t live alone, she thought. Maybe he shared the apartment with a girlfriend. That would make sense, considering how clean and put together the place was. For some strange reason, though, the notion of Cade having a girlfriend bothered Riley. Which made no sense. It wasn’t like she was jealous or anything. Actually, she didn’t even like him. That being the case, she pushed the errant thought aside. Besides, it made sense that the Marshal would have a girlfriend; he was too good looking not to have one. But as Riley let her gaze wander around the living room, she couldn’t help but admit she was relieved to find there weren’t any obvious feminine touches anywhere. Maybe he didn’t have a girlfriend. Catching sight of the framed photos on one of the shelves on the built-in bookcase along the wall, Riley gave in to her curiosity and walked over to look at them. One was of a smiling, older couple standing in front of what looked like a horse corral. The man was wearing a cowboy hat and had his arm around the woman’s shoulders while she leaned into him slightly. From the man’s angular jaw and the woman’s warm goldenbrown eyes, it was easy to figure out that they were Cade’s parents. Riley turned her attention from that photo to the one beside it. This one was of Cade and another man that could only be his brother. Besides being tall and broadshouldered like the Marshal, the man also had the same dark hair, chiseled features, and golden-brown eyes that Cade did. A girl would have a hard time resisting either of them, she thought. A noise behind Riley interrupted her musings, and she turned to see Cade coming out of the bedroom, overnight bag in hand. Embarrassed to be caught looking at his personal things, Riley flushed and quickly set the picture fame back on the shelf. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to...” But Cade only shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said. Riley tucked her hair behind her ear. “Is this your brother?” she asked, glancing at the picture. 50

Cade set his suitcase down on the floor and walked over to stand beside her. “Yeah,” he said. “That was taken a couple of years ago out at my parents’ ranch.” She nodded. “Does he live in Texas then?” “Madoc?” Cade shook his head. “No. He’s a U.S. Marshal out in Denver.” Riley looked at him in surprise. “Your brother’s a Marshal, too?” His mouth quirked. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d guess you’d say I’m following in his footsteps, though I’d never admit that to him.” She smiled, her gaze going back to the photo again. “You two sound like you’re close.” “I suppose you could say that,” Cade replied. “We fought like crazy when we were younger, and we’re still competitive as hell, but there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other.” Riley’s thoughts automatically went to her own family, and she chewed on her lower lip. “My sisters and I are really close like that, too,” she said softly. “Before I was in Witness Protection, I’d get together with at least one of them every weekend. Sometimes, they’d come to Manhattan and we’d go shopping or see a show, and then, sometimes, I’d go up to Connecticut to spend the weekend with one of them.” She shook her head. “God, it seems like a lifetime ago.” Beside her, Cade furrowed his brow. Once again, he realized how hard being in the program had been for Riley. He suddenly had an almost irresistible urge to take her in his arms. Then, surprised he had felt that strongly for her plight after what she had put him through, and unsure what to make of it, Cade cleared his throat. “We should get going,” he said. Over the next several days, Cade and Riley fell into a routine of sorts. With little to keep them occupied, they spent the time either watching television or reading the books they had brought with them. By the afternoon of the second day, however, they had exhausted both forms of entertainment, so they had ended up talking instead. Riley was a lot more open than he thought she would be, especially considering they hadn’t gotten off to a great start with each other. Not only did she tell him about herself and her family, as well as the small town in Connecticut where she had grown up, but she also confessed to him about how nervous she’d been moving to Manhattan after she’d graduated from college, and how she had feared she wouldn’t be able to make it at the financial firm where she’d gotten hired. As Cade listened to her talk, he found himself reassessing his opinion of her again and again. Despite what he had first thought when he’d met her, Riley Barnett was actually a lot more likeable than he had ever expected her to be. In turn, Cade found himself opening up to Riley about his own life. Not just about his childhood back in Texas, either, but about what it was like growing up in a family where becoming a Marshal was almost a forgone conclusion. He’d never been able to talk to anyone about the doubts he’d had when he’d applied to the Marshals Service, but to his surprise, he found himself telling Riley about all the fears and reservations he’d had when it came to living up to his family’s expectations. He wanted to think that the only reason he was talking this freely to Riley was because there was nothing else to do at the safe house except talk, but the truth was, he just found her extremely easy to talk to.

51

And she wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, he had to admit. The other night, he’d gotten a glimpse of her in those little shorts and tank top she slept in. The sight had brought him to a full stop just outside her bedroom door. She’d been leaning over the bed, straightening the sheets when he’d walked by on his way to the shower. The position had pulled her skimpy shorts even tighter and given him a glimpse of her absolutely awe-inspiring asscheeks. He’d almost groaned out loud and probably would have if he hadn’t thought she would hear. So, instead, he’d taken a cold shower, and then gone back downstairs where he spent half the night staring at the ceiling. For her part, Riley was becoming just as enamored with Cade. She was amazed by how well they were getting along. She hadn’t spent this much time talking to a guy in five years. Even though she and Cade came from different backgrounds, they shared a lot of the same viewpoints and had a lot more in common than she would have thought possible. Not only was family very important to both of them, but they also had the same taste in things like movies and books. They were also both into physical fitness, particularly jogging. Of course, talk of getting out and running reminded Riley even more of how she hated being cooped up in the safe house. But then something dawned on her. Cooped up in a safe house or not, it was the most fun she’d ever had with a man, and she had to admit that Cade really wasn’t such a bad guy. When he wasn’t spanking her, of course. The thought of the spankings he given her made Riley blush and she quickly focused her attention on the cards in her hand. Cade had found the deck in one of the drawers in the kitchen that morning and had asked if she’d wanted to play a game or two. Riley didn’t play cards that often, unless one counted solitaire, of course, but she’d been up for something new, so she’d eagerly joined him at the kitchen table. They started out with gin rummy, but after a few games, Cade suggested poker. “I don’t know how to play,” Riley said. He looked up from shuffling the cards, surprise in his golden-brown eyes. “You’ve never played poker?” “I never learned,” she admitted with a shrug. He shook his head. “Well, you can’t spend this much time with a man from Texas and not learn how to play poker,” he told her with a grin. “It would be considered a crime against my cowboy heritage.” So, Cade spent the next several hours teaching her. Though Riley had to admit she was having a difficult time paying attention to most of what he was trying to teach her, especially when he came around to her side of the table to look at her cards. With the hard wall of his chest pressing against her back as he leaned over her chair, she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but how amazing he felt. How she managed to learn the first thing about playing poker under those circumstances, she couldn’t even begin to guess, but after a dozen or so hands, she had finally begun to get the hang of it. “You know,” she said as she picked up one of the M&M’s they were using as chips for the game and popped it into her mouth. “These are great, but we have nothing in the way of real food to eat for dinner tonight.” On the other side of the table, Cade stopped shuffling the cards to look up at her. “Really?” She almost laughed. “Really,” she said. “We have been here for almost a week, you know.” 52

He shrugged. “We’ll just order pizza again.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I’m sick of pizza,” she told him. “We had it three nights this week already. I’ve got to have something different. Besides, we’re out of milk, too.” He sighed. “If I go to the store, will you promise to stay put this time?” Riley felt her face color at the memory of what had happened the last time Cade had gone shopping, or more precisely, what had happened after he’d come back. “No more runs to the video store,” she said, and then added, “Promise.” Cade’s eyes narrowed warningly. “You’d better not,” he told her. Riley watched as he got to his feet, her gaze traveling down the length of his body and back up again. Since going by his apartment to pick up some clothes, Cade had traded in his business suit for jeans and a button-up shirt, and though she had to admit that while he looked extremely handsome in the suit, he looked even more gorgeous now. She especially liked the way those tight jeans showed off his great butt. Blushing at the direction of her thoughts, Riley pushed back her chair and stood up, then followed Cade to the door. Once it closed behind him, she leaned against it and breathed out a sigh. God, what a hottie! She could really fall for a guy like him. Darn it, why did she have to move again just when she’d found someone she liked? Though Cade didn’t think Riley would be foolish enough to leave the safe house again, he wasted no time getting what they needed at the grocery store. Even so, it was almost dark by the time he turned down the street where the safe house was located. As he neared the house, he saw a dark SUV just pulling away from the curb. Cade’s gut clenched. Was it the same SUV that Riley claimed she’d seen outside her apartment building? The same one that he’d seen driving by the other night? He had no way to be sure. Cade tightened his grip on the wheel, torn for a moment as to what he should do. Should he follow the SUV, or check on Riley first? he wondered. His fear for the beautiful blonde outweighing his desire to check out the SUV, he pulled into the driveway and hurried up the front steps. Seeing no signs of forced entry, Cade felt himself relax a little. But that didn’t stop fear from continuing to grip him. The thought that even now Riley could be lying on the floor bleeding to death from some hit man’s gunshot made Cade’s hand tremble as he hurriedly punched in the code to unlock the door. Hand resting on the weapon on his hip, Cade took a deep breath and threw open the door. For a moment, Cade just stood there in disbelief. Whatever he had expected to find, it wasn’t the scene that met his gaze. Riley was leaning against the back of the smaller of the two couches, talking on her cell phone. She looked startled to see him, as if she hadn’t expected him to be back quite so soon, but at the glower he gave her, she hastily brought her conversation to a close. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you when I get settled in my new place,” she said quickly, and then, without waiting for a reply, snapped her cell phone closed and dropped it back into her purse with a hasty nonchalance that suggested she would rather he not have seen her talking on the phone. And with good reason, Cade thought as he slammed the door shut. 53

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “I...uhm...I was just talking to my mom,” Riley stammered. Cade ground his jaw. The relief he had felt at finding Riley safe and unharmed when he’d walked in had been replaced by anger at seeing her on the cell phone. “That much I figured out,” he growled. “What I meant was, what the hell were you doing talking to your mother after everything I told you?” Riley shrugged. “Well, she called me,” she explained. “And I couldn’t just hang up on her. It would be rude. Besides, I had to tell her that I was moving again, and that we couldn’t use the mail anymore because it was too dangerous.” “And calling her on the phone isn’t?” he said incredulously, unable to believe how Riley could be so smart, and yet be so stupid at the same time. He shook his head. “You know, I could give you a fifteen minute lecture on how easy it is for someone to tap into a cell phone conversation, but I don’t think it’d sink in. It seems that the only time I can get through to you is when I’m spanking you, so I’ll take that approach instead.” At his words, Riley’s eyes went wide, but before she could so much as take a step back, Cade closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm. Jerking her forward, he bent her over the back of the couch in one swift motion, and then held her there while he peppered her jean-clad bottom with quick, hard spanks. She began protesting immediately, squirming and kicking to free herself. But Cade ignored it, instead wrapping his arm around her slender waist so that he could hold onto her more tightly as he continued to bring his hand down over and over on her wiggling bottom. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered telling himself that he should cut her a break, but seeing her talking on her cell phone had made him forget all about that. Once again, she needed to be reminded what the rules were and why it was important that she follow them. But the sight of that incredible ass of hers wiggling all over the place was almost enough to make him completely forget about spanking Riley altogether. A growing tightness in his jeans had him wanting to just yank down her jeans and thrust himself inside her instead. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Not only would he never force himself on Riley like that, but the reality was that she needed this spanking. If she didn’t learn to start doing what she was told and being more careful, she was going to get herself killed. That thought steeled his resolve. “Owwwww!” she protested as his hand came down again. “That really...owwwww!...hurts!” “Good!” Cade growled. “Then maybe you’ll remember this the next time you want to go off and do something else foolish!” She let out another high-pitched yelp. “You can’t...owwwww!...expect me to just...owwwww!...cut all ties with my...owwwww!...family!” she told him. “I won’t...owwwww!...do it!” Cade’s jaw tightened. “You’d damn well better do it, Riley, because if you don’t, you’re going to wind up dead,” he said harshly. “Is that what you want?” He could tell from the way Riley stiffened that he had finally gotten her attention, but that still didn’t stop him from delivering a hard smack to the sweet-spot right where her asscheeks met the tops of her thighs. “Is it?” he demanded.

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In the silence, there was a sound outside, like the crunching of gravel underfoot, and Cade jerked his head up to listen. Unaware that he was no longer paying attention to her, Riley turned her head to glare at him over her shoulder. “Of course it’s not, you...” But the words were muffled as Cade clamped his hand over her mouth. Infuriated that he wouldn’t let her finish calling him the nasty name he had coming to him, she began to struggle to free herself, but his hold on her only tightened. “Quiet!” he hissed in her ear. “There’s someone outside!” Riley immediately went still at his words, forgetting all about her stinging bottom as terror gripped her. Oh God, she thought. They had found her! Taking his hand from her mouth, Cade pulled her upright and slid his Glock from the holster at his side. “I’m going to go check it out,” he said softly. “Stay here.” She caught his arm. “By myself?” she asked fearfully. He gave her a hard look. “Just do as I tell you, and you’ll be fine.” Riley opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get the words out, the door burst open and a man stepped in, a gun already thundering in his hand.

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Chapter Five Cade moved faster than Riley could ever have thought possible. Grabbing her around the waist, he threw her to the floor behind the couch and covered her body with his. Above them, the couch exploded in a flurry of stuffing as bullets tore through it with alarming speed. Huddled there behind it, she knew the piece of furniture was providing very little protection, and that the only thing between her and certain death at that moment was Cade. Riley barely had time to think about his unselfish act before Cade was up and returning fire with his own weapon. She didn’t know if he hit the assailant or not, but regardless, the would-be assassin stopped shooting. A moment later, she heard the sound of retreating footsteps. From where she lay on the floor, Riley looked up at Cade. He still had his weapon pointed toward the door. “Is he gone?” she asked softly. Cade looked down at her. “Stay here,” he ordered. “And stay down.” Realizing that Cade meant to go after the gunman, Riley opened her mouth to protest, but the Marshal had already gotten to his feet and was racing toward the front door. Her heart pounding, Riley knelt behind the couch, trembling. What if the gunman came back? she thought. Or what if there was a second man, and the first one had just been meant to lure Cade away? Without Cade, she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against a hit man. Cade’s order to stay where she was echoed in Riley’s mind, and she chewed on her lower lip, debating whether to disobey it or not. To heck with this, she thought. Ignoring the Marshal’s command, she scrambled to her feet and ran out into the night after him. It was raining when Cade ran outside, and in the dim light of the streetlamp, he could make out the figure of a man beside a dark SUV halfway down the block on the other side of the street. So much for Riley being paranoid, he thought bitterly. Tightening his grip on the weapon in his hand, Cade raced down the street toward the man, only to slow his steps as he drew nearer. He watched in amazement as the man, who was clearly oblivious to Cade’s presence, fumbled with his car keys. He had locked the doors? Cade thought in disbelief. What kind of idiot hit man was this guy? Lifting his gun, Cade leveled it at the man. “Federal Marshal!” he yelled. “Freeze!” Startled, the man jerked his head around to stare at Cade in surprise. The rain was really starting to come down now, and in the near darkness, Cade could make out a broad face with a long nose, and a pair of close-set eyes. “Turn around and put your hands where I can see them!” Cade ordered. The man didn’t move. Probably weighing his options, Cade thought. His finger firmly on the trigger, Cade took a step closer to the man. “Put your hands where I can see them!” he repeated. “Now!” Letting out a heavy sigh, the man lifted his hands in the air and started to turn to face him. Then, without warning, he turned and bolted. 56

“Shit!” Cade muttered. Deciding that it would be too dangerous to take a shot at the man with all the houses in the vicinity, Cade gave chase instead. Though the man took Cade down sidewalks and in between houses, it was obvious he wasn’t in good shape because within minutes, he was already starting to slow down. Cade was just about to pick up speed when he heard the sound of running footsteps behind him. Did the hit man have a partner? he wondered. Stopping in his tracks, he spun around, weapon at the ready, only to stare in disbelief when he saw Riley coming up behind him. Like him, she was soaked to the skin, her long hair wet, her Tshirt molding to the curves of her breasts. Damn, she looked good, he thought. Then he ground his jaw as he realized that she had deliberately disobeyed his order and followed him. Throwing a quick look over his shoulder, Cade saw the fleeing assailant disappear around a corner in the distance. Swearing under his breath, he lowered his weapon to glower at Riley. “What are you hell are you doing?” he demanded angrily. “I told you to stay at the safe house!” “I was afraid that the hit man might come back,” she explained, and then looked around. “Did you get him?” Cade clenched his jaw. “No!” he growled. “But I was just about to catch him. That was until you showed up. Now, I can’t go after him.” She hugged herself with her arms and blinked up at him through the rain. “Why not?” “Because I won’t have you following behind me, and I won’t leave you here in the middle of street, that’s why!” he snapped, shoving his gun back into the holster on his belt. “I can’t believe you came after me!” “And I can’t believe you let the guy get away!” she shot back. “I thought Marshals were supposed to be trained for this sort of thing. Why couldn’t you catch up to him? It didn’t seem like he was running that fast to me.” Cade clenched his jaw at her insult. This was the thanks he got for risking his life to save hers? Could she possibly be any more irritating? God, he couldn’t wait to hand her over to another Marshal. “If I didn’t have to get you out of here, I’d put you over my knee and spank your ass right now for that, you ungrateful little brat!” he ground out. Riley didn’t even bother to look the least bit contrite as she glared up at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, those spankings of yours don’t have the effect you seem to think,” she told him. “That’s just because I haven’t spanked you hard enough yet!” he snapped. Riley opened her mouth to retort, only to shut it again when he firmly took her arm and steered her back the way they had come. Staying at the safe house now was out of the question, he told himself, but they had to go back there long enough to grab his Jeep. Cade’s first instinct was to take Riley to the District Office in Seattle, but then he realized that there probably wouldn’t be anyone there at this time of night. So, he needed to come up with another plan until he could talk to his boss. He could only imagine what Conner was going to have to say when he heard about what had happened.

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To Cade’s relief, the local police hadn’t shown up at the safe house yet, which saved him a lot of hassle and explanation. But they would be there soon enough and he wanted to be gone before they did. As he led Riley up the street, he noticed that the black SUV that had been parked by the curb was gone. Damn. He had hoped to get the plate number. “Where are we going?” Riley asked after they had gotten their stuff from the house and were safely in the Jeep. Cade gave her a sidelong glance. Neither of them had changed out of their wet clothes, and she was shivering. “A hotel,” he told her, reaching over to turn on the heat. “Why aren’t we going to another safe house?” she demanded. His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror to see if they were being followed. “That has to be arranged. It’s not like we have a dozen empty houses in every town, you know,” he said dryly. “And for all I know, they might just want to get you completely out of the area. But I’ll leave that up to someone else. Until then, we’ll just stay in a hotel.” Riley supposed that made sense. Hugging her arms around herself, she turned her head to stare out the window. The concept of her life being in danger had always been just that, a concept. But after getting shot at tonight, she realized just how real the danger was. If Cade hadn’t been there to protect her, she had no doubt that she would be dead right now. And she hadn’t even thanked him for what he’d done. Instead, she had berated him for not running after the guy fast enough to catch him. Even as she’d said the words, she’d known they were untrue. If she weren’t an avid runner herself, she never would have been able to keep up with Cade back there. The real reason Cade hadn’t caught the guy was because she had followed him. Feeling more than a little ashamed at the memory of what she’d said to Cade, she turned her head slightly to look at him beneath her lashes. She really wanted to apologize, to tell him it had been fear and stress that had made her say those things, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to get the words out. And by the time she did get up the courage to say something, Cade was already pulling into the parking lot of a wellknown hotel chain. Promising herself that she would apologize to him when they got settled into a room, Riley tucked her still slightly wet hair behind an ear in an effort to make herself more presentable as she walked into the hotel lobby with Cade. The Marshal registered for a room quickly, asking for one that was neither near the elevator nor the stairwells. If the desk clerk seemed surprised by the request, he made no comment as he handed Cade two key-cards. Having grabbed their bags from his truck before they had gone into the hotel, Cade and Riley went directly up to the room. Holding the door open for her, Cade switched on the light in the entryway, and then instructed her to wait there while he closed the drapes. Hugging herself with her arms, Riley let her gaze wander over the room. With its institutional-style furniture, it looked like every other hotel room she’d ever been in, she thought. Her brow furrowed a little when she saw that there was only one bed, though. She wondered if she should point that out to Cade, but then decided against it. He probably wouldn’t be in the mood.

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Pulling the heavy drapes closed, Cade turned back to her. “Why don’t you get out of those wet clothes and go take a shower?” he suggested. She chewed on her lower lip. A shower sounded really good about now, she thought. She supposed that apology could wait until later. “Okay,” she said, and then, added softly, “You’ll stay here, right?” He nodded. “I’ll be right out here.” Relieved to hear that, Riley picked up her bag and walked into the bathroom. Closing the door, she leaned back against it for a long moment. Out in the other room, she could hear Cade talking to his boss on the phone, his deep voice strong and sure as he explained what had happened at the safe house. Considering that she had just gone through a real live assassination attempt, Riley was surprised she wasn’t feeling more terrified at the moment. But she was actually remarkably calm, she realized as she stripped off her sodden clothes. Maybe she was just in denial, she told herself. Or maybe it was because she knew she would be safe with Cade. She wondered what it was about him that made her feel that way. None of the other U.S. Marshals guarding her had ever made her feel quite so protected. Remembering the feel of Cade’s strong arms as he had wrapped them around her to shield her from the hit man’s bullets back at the safe house, Riley let out a sigh and stepped into the tub. In the bedroom, Cade flipped his cell phone closed with a sigh. Well, that had gone better than he had thought it would. He’d fully expected Conner to ream him a new one for letting the shooter get away, but to Cade’s surprise, his boss had commended him on the way he’d handled the situation. Conner had even been impressed with Cade for having the forethought to take Riley to a hotel. But Cade wasn’t as impressed, not with the hotel plan, and certainly not with letting the shooter get away. It had been pure luck, not his skill as a Marshal that had kept Riley alive today, he thought bitterly. He never should have left her alone at the safe house to begin with. If he had gotten there just a few minutes later or if one of those bullets had found their mark... He swallowed hard. The thought of Riley getting shot, or worse, was too painful to bear thinking about. As he stood there listening to the sounds of the Riley moving around in the bathroom, he suddenly realized that this assignment wasn’t simply about just keeping a witness in the program safe anymore. He might as well admit it. Somewhere along the way, he had developed feelings for Riley Barnett. Feelings that were growing stronger by the minute. More than being unprofessional, though, which it definitely was, it was pointless, because nothing could ever come of it. Riley was going to be relocated soon, probably hundreds, even thousands of miles away. When that happened, he would never see her again. Cade shook his head. He didn’t even understand how it had happened. He could see being physically attracted to Riley; she was beautiful and sexy, not to mention having a great body. But the things he was feeling went way beyond physical attraction, and definitely way beyond anything he’d ever felt for a woman before. But how could he fall for a woman who irritated him so damn much? And Riley could infuriate him like no

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other woman he’d ever known. So, how could this have happened? He didn’t know the answer to that; he just knew it had. The bathroom door opened then, interrupting his thoughts, and Cade looked up to see Riley coming into the bedroom. She had showered and changed into those skimpy shorts and curve-hugging tank top that had caused him more than one sleepless night since he’d first caught sight of her wearing them. Cade cleared his throat and forced himself to tear his gaze away from her long, shapely legs. “I talked to my boss while you were in the shower,” he told her. “He’s going to arrange for another safe house, but until he has one set up, we’re going to have to stay here.” Riley nodded. “Okay.” She wet her lips in what he was sure was an unconscious gesture, and he almost groaned. “I...I wanted to thank you for what you did back at the safe house. You saved my life.” His jaw tightened. “I was just doing my job.” She looked away “I know,” she said. “But I haven’t exactly made that easy for you, and I’m sorry.” Damn right you haven’t, Cade wanted to growl, but instead, he simply shrugged off her apology. “It’s okay,” he said gruffly. And then realizing how hard it had been for her to apologize at all, he added, “I know this whole thing hasn’t been easy for you. Your life has been pretty hard the past five years. It’s understandable if you get frustrated with it every now and then.” She gave him a small smile. “Thanks for understanding.” “No problem,” he told her. He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you think you’ll be okay out here while I take a quick shower?” She nodded. “I’ll be fine.” He bent to pick up his bag. “Don’t go near the window,” he warned. “And don’t open the door to anyone.” “I won’t,” she assured him. Maybe Riley was finally getting it, Cade thought as he walked into the bathroom. Of course, all it had taken was someone shooting at her. But at least now, she would do as he told her. Not wanting to leave Riley alone any longer than necessary, Cade made the shower a quick one. Pulling on the extra pair of jeans he’d packed and a clean shirt, he slid his gun holster onto his belt, and then shoved his cell phone, keys and wallet all back into his pockets. Picking up his overnight bag, he opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, only to stop in his tracks when he realized it was empty. Fear gripped him. He couldn’t have left Riley alone for more than five minutes, he thought. And in that time, he’d heard no screams and no scuffle, and yet Cade knew that the bastard must have taken her. But why would the man kidnap Riley? he wondered. Why not just shoot her and be done with it? Then again, did the man’s reasons really matter? Cade had to find her! Dropping his bag onto the floor with a thud, Cade crossed the room in two long strides and yanked open the door to see Riley standing in the hallway, the key-card in her hand outstretched as if she’d just been about to stick it in the slot.

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Relief coursing through him, Cade grabbed Riley by the arm and pulled her into the room, letting the door slam close behind her. “Where the hell were you?” he demanded. She looked up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. “I went to get some ice,” she said softly. His brows drew together as he noticed the plastic bucket in her hand. “Ice? You went to get ice?” he said incredulously. “After everything that happened tonight, you’re still taking chances and foolishly risking your life!” Her gaze dropped to the ice bucket for a moment. “I guess I wasn’t thinking,” she said. Cade swore under his breath. How could he have thought she’d ever do as she was told? The woman had some pathological condition that prevented her from listening to anyone. “That’s your problem, Riley! You never think!” he growled. “You were almost killed back at that safe house tonight. If that bastard had followed us here, he could have grabbed you the moment you stepped foot outside the room, and there’s not a damn thing I could have done. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even have heard anything over the water running in the shower.” Riley chewed on her lower lip as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll be more careful next time.” Cade’s jaw tightened. “I’m going to make damn sure that there isn’t a next time!” Taking the bucket of ice from Riley’s hand, Cade slammed it down on the desk and marched her over to the bed. In one swift motion, he sat down on the edge of it and dragged her over his knee, then lifted his hand to bring it down on her upturned bottom in a flurry of quick, hard spanks. This time, he told himself, he wasn’t going to stop until he was sure she wasn’t going to ever do anything that foolish again. Riley bit her lip to stifle her cries; they were in a hotel after all and she didn’t want anyone to hear. The smacks stung fiercely through the thin material of her shorts, though, and part of her wanted to protest each and every stinging spank he gave her. But the other part of her knew she deserved this spanking. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid leaving the room like that. Cade was right. She didn’t think. She just did whatever she felt like doing without any thought to the consequences. This wasn’t about just some silly set of rules anymore. Someone had really tried to kill her tonight and she had just foolishly risked her life for a bucket of ice. Truth be told, she had been risking her life ever since she’d come into the Witness Protection Program. And her carelessness had finally caught up with her. A spanking was the least that she deserved, she thought bitterly. So, she submitted willingly to Cade’s firm hand, hoping that this time, it would have an effect. But as Cade’s hand continued to come down over and over on her poor, defenseless ass, she couldn’t help but start to squirm and kick. She might deserve it, but yikes, did it sting! It didn’t help that her shorts seemed to be riding up even higher with each spank to give him easy access to her bare cheeks. “Owwwww!” Riley finally squealed, unable to keep silent any longer when his hand came down on the tender area of her sit-spots for what must be the umpteenth time. “Cade, please...” 61

But it seemed Cade was determined to make sure she learned her lesson this time because he only spanked her that much harder, and Riley pressed her face into the soft bedding to muffle her squeals of protest. Her ass felt like it was on fire! Just then, Cade stopped spanking her, and she breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he was done. But to her shock, Riley felt him grab the waistband of her shorts. With one quick yank, he pulled them all the way down to the middle of her thighs! Oh my God, she thought. She wasn’t wearing any panties! Her face flaming scarlet, she craned her neck to look at him over her shoulder. “Wh-what are you doing?” she squealed. Cade lifted a brow. “You said it yourself,” he told her. “These spankings don’t seem to be having the desired effect. So, I’m going to make sure this one does.” She opened her mouth to protest, but his hand was already coming down on her bare bottom. She inhaled sharply at how much more the spanks stung now than they had before. She wouldn’t have believed that the shorts could have provided so much protection, but apparently, they had. What made it even worse, though, was the knowledge that she was completely exposed to Cade now. Riley tried to clench her asscheeks tightly together, hoping to hide her pussy from his view, but that only made the spanks sting that much more, and she quickly gave up on the idea. To heck with it, she decided. He probably wasn’t even paying attention to her more feminine attributes, anyway. Clearly, she thought as his hand found her tender sit-spots, he was only interested in spanking her. Even so, he couldn’t help but see her pussy, she thought. The idea alone was enough to start a rebellious tingle between her legs. It wasn’t her fault, really. She hadn’t been with a guy in a long time and regardless of the fact that Cade was in the process of spanking her right now, he was still utterly gorgeous. Oh God, how could she even be thinking things like that? He was spanking her! So what? she told herself. She shouldn’t be complaining. This was the first time she’d been even half-naked with a guy in a long while. If a spanking was what it took, then maybe she should volunteer for one more often. She suddenly realized the spanking wasn’t stinging nearly as much as it had when Cade had first started. That wasn’t a surprise, she thought. She was barely paying attention to anything other than her pussy, which was getting wetter by the second! Riley wondered if Cade could tell she was becoming excited. God, she hoped so. Because if not, she was going to have to do something extreme. That thought brought her up short. Was she saying that she wanted to have sex with Cade? When had that happened? Before she could puzzle that out, the spanking was over and Riley was back on her feet. She didn’t bother to pull up her shorts, which were now in a puddle at her feet, but just stood there, panting for breath and cupping her flaming asscheeks with her hands. Lifting her gaze, she looked up at Cade from beneath lowered lashes. Her breath caught at the look of anguish on his handsome face. He wasn’t mad at her, she realized; he was worried about her. He pulled her close. “You scared the hell out of me when I walked out of the bathroom and found you gone,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t ever do that me again, Riley.” Riley gazed up at him. This wasn’t just a U.S. Marshal talking, she thought. This was a man who was concerned about someone he cared for. She knew that in her heart 62

and that made her want him even more. She leaned closer to him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It won’t ever happen again.” But Cade didn’t seem to have heard her. Instead, he was gazing intently at her mouth. Knowing the effect it would have on him, she slowly wet her lips with her tongue. He must have been as close to the edge as she was because that little bit was all it took. With a groan, Cade slid his hand into her long hair and lowered his head to cover her mouth with his. Riley didn’t resist, but instead pulled him even closer, and as he molded her against him, she could feel the heat from his body. It had been so long since she’d been with a man, and she reveled in the sensation. The kiss went on and on until Riley didn’t think she could breathe. Only then, did Cade lift his mouth from hers to trail hot kisses down her neck. His nibbling made her shiver and clutching him to her even more tightly, she tossed her head back with a sigh. God, that felt so good! Still heady from his kisses, she was barely even aware that Cade had stopped nibbling on her neck to urgently slide his hands underneath the hem of her tank top. Desperately wanting to feel his hands on her naked body, Riley lifted her arms over her head so that he could take off her top. Cade’s eyes turned to molten gold as he studied her and Riley felt herself blush as he took in her rounded breasts and slender waist before his eyes dropped to the gentle curve of her hips and long, shapely legs. Standing there completely naked while he was still fully clothed made Riley feel utterly wanton and terribly shy at the same time, and she would have reached for the buttons on his shirt, but he caught her hands in his and pulled her close to kiss her again. This time, his hands gently cupped her breasts for one long delicious moment before sliding down her back to cup her red-hot asscheeks. Riley gasped against his mouth as he squeezed her freshly-spanked bottom. She hadn’t realized how tender it still was! And yet the firm pressure of his fingers had her pussy clenching with excitement, and she moaned as she realized how wet she was getting. Deciding that the foreplay had gone on long enough, she slid her hands up the front of his shirt and began to savagely pull at the buttons. With a soft chuckle, Cade released her to lend his assistance and within moments, his clothes had joined hers on the floor. Now it was her turn to study him and Riley let her hungry gaze rove over his naked body. God, he was so gorgeous! From his broad shoulders and muscular chest to his tight abs and long, powerful legs, he was perfect, she thought. And to top it all off, his extremely hard cock was just waiting for her attention! She would have knelt down in front of him and taken him in her mouth right then, but he didn’t give her the chance. Instead, he took her hands and nudged her backward until she was up against the edge of the bed. More than ready to have him inside her, Riley lay back on the bed, but Cade surprised her by leaning down to slowly kiss his way up the inside of her legs. Perhaps a little more foreplay would be okay, she thought as he alternated from one leg to the other. But Cade seemed determined to take his time and within moments, Riley felt herself grow impatient again. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she tried to urge him up to her pussy, but he refused to play the game her way. Instead, he stopped at mid-thigh to tease and nibble at the soft skin there. While what he was doing felt incredibly 63

wonderful, it was also incredibly frustrating, and she heard herself groan in exasperation. Only then did he begin to kiss his way up her legs again. But even once Cade reached the junction of her thighs, he continued to tease her. He slowly trailed his tongue along either side of her pussy lips, dipping inside occasionally, but never allowing himself to come too close to her throbbing clit. Riley groaned again in even deeper frustration. At the sound, Cade lifted his head to look at her with amusement. “Something wrong?” he asked softly. “Stop teasing me, Cade,” she begged. “Please.” His mouth quirking, he lowered his head to immediately focus his attention directly on her plump clit. Sliding his hands up her legs, he cupped her still-stinging ass in a tight grip that made her gasp. The combination of sensations was so intense that it was almost too much, but at the same time, it felt so amazing that she didn’t want him to ever stop. Lacing her fingers into his hair to hold him in place, she slowly began to rotate her hips in time with his licking. It didn’t take long for her orgasm to build and within moments, she was crying out as wave after wave of pleasure rushed over her. Somehow, Cade seemed to know exactly how she liked it and his light, feathery licks let her ride out the orgasm for an unbelievably long time. Only then did he stop and climb into bed with her. Riley had planned to return the oral favor, but Cade didn’t give her the chance, instead slipping between her legs to slide his hard cock up and down the opening of her pussy. Realizing that he meant to tease her again, she wrapped her legs around his hips. “No more teasing,” she growled, hooking her hand behind his head and dragging him down for another searing kiss. “I need you inside me. Now!” Cade didn’t argue, but kissed her passionately as he plunged himself into her pussy in one smooth thrust. Time lost all meaning for Riley then as he moved in and out of her. As excited as he obviously was, she was amazed at his stamina. Her orgasm seemed to have no beginning or end, but was just one, long, glorious burst of pleasure. Riley didn’t think it was possible for it to get any better until she heard Cade groan with his own release. Knowing that she had the ability to make him come so hard made her own orgasm that much more powerful, and she clamped her legs more tightly around him as he pushed his hard cock deep inside her and held himself there. The pleasure that rippled through her as she came again was so intense that it almost brought her to tears. That had never happened to her before, and she could only wonder what it was about this man that had brought on such powerful emotions.

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Chapter Six The next morning, Riley awoke to find herself curled up against Cade’s side, her head pillowed on his muscular chest, her arm thrown over him possessively. With a sigh, she cuddled closer to him. It had been so long since she’d been with a man, especially one so strong and protective, and she had missed it more than she’d realized. As she lay there, her lips curved into a smile. Last night had been amazing, she thought. No man had ever made love to her so passionately and completely as Cade had. That first frenzied lovemaking session had been followed by several more, each slower and more tender than the one before it. Oh yes, she thought again, it had definitely been amazing. And, she suddenly realized with a sickening lurch, it had also been a really big mistake. While she could admit that the sex was the best she’d ever had, sleeping with Cade had definitely been a stupid thing to do. But she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She had wanted Cade, plain and simple, and so she hadn’t bothered to think about what it would mean. She wasn’t the type to sleep with a man on a whim. Usually, it took her weeks of dating a guy before she even considered it, and that was only after she really fell for him. When she did fall for a guy, though, she fell hard. And after making love with Cade last night, she had fallen for the sexy Marshal with a really big thud! She would have to keep her distance from him at the next safe house, she told herself, or else risk losing her heart to the man altogether. As if on cue, Cade’s cell phone rang. He seemed to be sleeping so deeply that for a moment, Riley wondered if he would even hear it, but when he immediately reached out to grab it, she realized he must already have been awake. Though she had been expecting the Marshals Service to call, Riley couldn’t help but let out a sigh as she listened to Cade talk to the caller about transferring her to another safe house. From what she could hear, it sounded like they wanted to move her right away. She had hoped she and Cade would be able to stay at the hotel a little while longer. Assuring the caller that they would be there, wherever “there” was, Cade flipped his phone closed and set it down on the bedside table. Knowing she couldn’t pretend to be asleep any longer, Riley held the sheet to her breasts with one hand and used the other to push herself into a sitting position. Tucking her hair behind an ear, Riley tried to ignore the way her pulse leaped at the sight of Cade’s tousled hair and dark stubble. She hadn’t known it was possible for anyone to look that gorgeous the first thing in the morning. “Do they have another safe house ready?” she asked. Cade nodded. “My boss wants us to meet him at the Seattle office.” Riley said nothing. She wondered if Cade was as uncomfortable as she was after the night of unbridled passion they’d spent together. She wished she could think of something to say to make the situation less awkward, but nothing would come to mind. So instead, she just sat there, clutching the sheet to her breasts. The same sheet that was

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riding low on his hips to reveal his well-muscled chest and tight, sexy abs, she noticed. Oh God! If she didn’t get out of bed soon, she was going end up jumping him! Riley was still trying to figure out how to make a graceful exit from the bed when Cade cleared his throat. “I told him we’d be there as soon as we could.” Her face colored. “I’d better go get dressed then.” Realizing she’d have to leave the sheet where it was or else leave Cade completely naked, Riley avoided his gaze as she blushingly slid out of bed. Naked, she scooped her clothes up from the floor, and then grabbing her bag as quickly as she could, she padded into the bathroom. Cade watched Riley go, his body responding to the sight of her nakedness with an eagerness that made him groan. He’d like nothing better than to drag her back into bed with him and spend the day making love to her. She was just that amazing. Last night had been incredible. Riley was not only more beautiful than he had imagined, but more passionate than he could have dreamed. He could make love to her a thousand times and still never get enough, he thought. And waking up with her in his arms that morning had felt good. Too good, he told himself. As enjoyable as the sex had been, there was a part of Cade that regretted taking her to bed last night. He’d known all along that Riley was the kind of woman he could fall for, the kind of woman he could see himself spending the rest of his life with. He’d also known that nothing could ever come of their relationship, not when she could be leaving at any time. But he had allowed himself to get close to her anyway. Sleeping with her had been stupid not just because the relationship couldn’t go anywhere, but because having sex with a witness was just downright unprofessional. He was supposed to be protecting her, not sleeping with her. If this ever got out, his career in the Marshals would be over. Swearing under his breath, he got out of bed and collected his clothes from the floor. When Riley walked out of the bathroom half an hour later, it was to find Cade already dressed and waiting for her. He had ditched the jeans and button-up shirt she’d gotten used to seeing him wear in favor of his suit and tie, she noticed, but he still looked just as gorgeous. “Ready to go?” he asked, and Riley nodded. They drove up to Seattle in silence, Cade obviously as preoccupied with his thoughts as she was with hers. Was he regretting last night as much as she was? she wondered. Once inside the building where the U.S. Marshals had their offices, Cade led her directly to the one belonging to his superior. At their entrance, the man got to his feet and came around his desk to join the two other men that were standing in front of it. “I’m Deputy Chief Conner,” he said, extending his hand to Riley. “And these are Deputies Thompson and Morris.” Riley reached out to shake his hand, and then did the same with the other two Marshals when they offered their hands as well.

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Deputy Chief Conner glanced at Cade. “No problems on the way, I take it?” he asked. Cade shook his head. “No, Sir.” The older man nodded. “Good.” He turned his attention back to Riley. “You’ll be staying at a safe house just south of Olympia with Deputies Thompson and Morris for a couple of days until we get you relocated, Ms. Barnett. With any luck, we’ll have you on your way within the week.” Riley’s brow furrowed at the mention of the other two Marshals. Did that mean Cade wouldn’t be going with her to the safe house? She glanced at Cade to see him looking just as puzzled by Deputy Chief Conner’s words. “I thought I would be staying at the safe house with Ms. Barnett,” he said to the older man. Deputy Chief Conner shook his head. “I want you working on finding out who the shooter was,” he said. “Deputies Thompson and Morris will take care of her until we can get her relocated.” Riley felt her heart sank at that. She might have thought sleeping with him was foolish, but nevertheless, she had hoped to be able to spend a couple of more days with Cade before she had to move. But maybe it was better this way, she told herself. If she were with Cade, she had no doubt she would end up sleeping with him again and that would only result in more heartache. It was easier to make a clean break of things, she thought. But as her gaze strayed to the handsome Marshal, she realized it wasn’t going to be easy at all. “Ms. Barnett,” Deputy Thompson said from behind her. “If you’re ready, we can go.” She glanced over her shoulder at the men, before turning back to Cade again. At the hotel that morning, she hadn’t been able to think of anything to say Cade and now there was so much she wanted to say to him. Like how much she appreciated him saving her life. And how comforting it was to be in his arms, even if it had been only for a little while. But she couldn’t tell him any of those things, not with his superior and the other two Marshals looking on. Cade gave her a nod. “Take care of yourself,” he told her. Riley felt a slight pang of disappointment that he hadn’t said something more personal, but she realized that he couldn’t very well say anything in front of his coworkers either. She offered him a small smile. “You, too,” she said softly. Realizing that the other two Marshals were waiting for her, Riley swallowed hard and turned away. Surprised to feel tears welling in her eyes, she quickly made her way to the door before anyone could see. But unable to resist one more look at Cade, she paused and glanced back at him over her shoulder to find him studying her with those remarkable gold eyes of his. For a moment the urge to run back into the office and throw herself into his arms was almost too much to resist and she had to force herself to turn away. ade watched her go, his gaze following Riley until she disappeared around a cubicle and out of sight. He had hoped that she would look back at him once more before

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she left, but she hadn’t. Well, what had he expected? He was just another in a long string of Marshals who had been responsible for keeping her alive. “Do you think you got a good enough look at the shooter to sit down with a sketch artist?” Conner asked. The words jerked him from his thoughts and Cade gave himself a mental shake as he turned to look at the other man. “I should be able to, yeah,” he said. “Good,” Conner said. “While you do that, I’m going to talk to the DA who prosecuted Donatti and see if he can shed some light on this whole thing. There must be a reason if Donatti put out a contract on Riley Barnett at this point.” Taking that as his cue to leave, Cade headed for the door. Regardless of the fact that he’d told Conner he would be able to work with a sketch artist, he wasn’t sure how much good it would do. Not because he hadn’t seen the hit man well enough, but because he was too distracted with thoughts of Riley. Cade had really been taken aback when Conner had announced that Thompson and Morris were going to be taking Riley to the safe house. He had just naturally assumed he would stay with her until she was relocated. But maybe it was better that he didn’t. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was going to be on him when she left. Besides, Conner was right. It was more important to track down the hit man that had tried to kill her. With that in mind, Cade spent the rest of the day focusing his attention on doing just that. He was just frowning at the drawing the sketch artist had made when Conner walked over to his desk. The older man studied the drawing for a moment. “So, that’s our shooter, huh?” the other man said when he’d taken a look at it. “Yeah,” Cade said. “This guy’s face is really familiar for some reason.” He hadn’t realized it when he’d first seen the man the other night, but after thinking about it, Cade was sure he had seen the hit man somewhere before. Conner regarded the sketch thoughtfully. “Take a look through the NCIC database,” he told Cade. “If we’re lucky, maybe the guy has a record. Start with known mob enforcers.” Looking through the online National Crime Information Center database would be a whole hell of a lot easier than thumbing through old mug books. Of course, everything depended on the guy having a record and being in the database. If he didn’t, things would be much more difficult, Cade thought. “What did the DA have to say?” he asked Conner. Conner shook his head. “He wasn’t in the office,” he said. “I’m waiting for him to call me back.” Cade knew that with the time difference between the east and west coast it could be awhile before the man returned Conner’s call. Hopefully, Cade would have a solid lead on the hit man by then. As it turned out, though, Cade had no luck finding the guy through the NCIC database. He came up with a lot of known hit men, mob enforcers, and just general bad guys with organized crime connections, but none of them resembled the shooter from the other night. Thinking that he was using too narrow of a scope, he broadened it, but again, his search yielded nothing but hours of wasted time. “Anything?” Conner asked when he came up to Cade’s desk later that evening. Cade sat back in his chair with a sigh. “Not a thing.” 68

The other man frowned. “I just got off the phone with the Manhattan DA. Turns out that Albert Donatti has been more interested in making deals than in taking out witnesses,” he said. “He’s in the WitSec Program himself now.” Cade’s brow furrowed. “He flipped on someone else?” he asked. “If that’s the case, then it doesn’t make sense that he’d go out and hire a hit man.” “No, it doesn’t,” Conner said, and then sighed. “Maybe we’re just looking at this the wrong way. Look, go home and get some rest. We’ll look at it a different angle first thing in the morning.” Cade went, but only reluctantly. He would much rather have stayed and looked through the criminal databases some more, but as exhausted as he was, he’d probably only miss something if he did. Despite being wiped out, however, Cade couldn’t sleep at all that night. Finally tired of tossing and turning, he got out of bed a little after midnight and wandered into the living room to watch television. But despite having plenty of channels to choose from, none of them could hold his interest, and before long, his thoughts turned back to Riley. After spending a week in the safe house with her, his apartment seemed incredibly quiet and empty. He had never thought of himself as the overly talkative type, but it turned out that he had really enjoyed the time he and Riley had spent together talking. And he couldn’t help but remember what it had felt like to spend the night with her in his arms. It might have been foolish, but it had felt good. He found himself wondering what Riley was doing at that moment. Had she gotten settled in at the safe house? Was she asleep or was she making the other Marshals sit through whatever chick-flicks she’d talked them into renting for her? That thought made Cade smile. But then almost immediately, it turned into a frown as he was reminded again of how much he missed her. Did she miss him as much? Cade let out a derisive snort at that. He would like to have thought that the sex they’d had the night before had meant something to Riley, but her actions that morning had made it clear that it had been nothing more than a one-night stand to her. He wished it could mean so little to him. Turning off the television a couple of hours later, Cade threw himself back into bed and tried hard to push thoughts of Riley from his mind. He did fall asleep, but only because he was exhausted. And even then, he slept fitfully and often awoke swearing he could feel Riley there with him, sleeping curled up at his side.

Cade woke up around five the next morning feeling even more exhausted than he had the night before. He wanted to sleep more, but decided that it would be a waste of time to try. So instead, he took a shower and got dressed, then left for work. At the office, he’d at least have something to distract him from thinking about Riley. He logged back into the NCIC database the moment he got into the office, but even though he tried to focus, it did no good. He couldn’t stop thinking about Riley. Or worrying about her. Thompson and Morris were more than competent, so Cade knew that logically there was no reason to be concerned for Riley’s safety. But he also knew that he would feel a hell of a lot better if he checked on her. So, around mid-morning, he gave up on the database search and decided to get a status report on Riley. Cade didn’t 69

have either man’s cell phone number, however, but rather than ask Conner, he went down to get it from the Support Division. Maxine, the woman who managed most of the administrative functions for the Seattle office, wasn’t at her desk, however. Not knowing when she’d be back, Cade was about to leave a note for her when he noticed the photograph on her desk. Cade stared at the picture, unable to believe what he was seeing. In it, a smiling Maxine was standing in front of a panoramic view of the Grand Canyon, and beside her, was the dark-haired man who had tried to kill Riley at the safe house the other night. “Son of a bitch,” Cade muttered. Grabbing the photograph off the desk, Cade leaned over the cubicle to show it to Maxine’s coworker. “Do you know who this guy with Maxine is?” The woman smiled. “Sure,” she said. “That’s Maxine’s husband, Tony.” Photograph in hand, Cade swore under his breath as he quickly weaved his way through the maze of cubicles. All this time he had been thinking that it was some mob hit man that was after Riley. No wonder he hadn’t been able to get a match through the NCIC database. Back upstairs, Cade made a quick stop at his desk to grab the composite drawing before heading to Conner’s office. Not bothering to knock, he walked right in. Ignoring the other man’s scowl, he held up the photo in one hand, and the sketch in the other. “I finally have a name to go with the face,” he said. “Tony Caruthers, who just happens to be married to Maxine from the Support Division.” Conner’s brow furrowed as he glanced from the photo to the sketch, and then back again. “Are you sure?” “Positive,” Cade assured him. The other man swore. “Is Maxine Caruthers in today?” Cade nodded. “But she’s not at her desk.” “Let’s find her then,” Conner said. “I want to talk to her.” It took nearly half an hour to find Maxine in the huge office building, but when they did, it was to take her directly to an interrogation room. It didn’t take much prompting to get the woman to talk and within minutes, she broke down and admitted everything. It seemed that her husband wasn’t a hit man for the mob by trade, but just some guy who thought he could get rich quick by killing federal witnesses. The fact that Maxine had the addresses and personal records on all of the witnesses had made the decision easy. “Did Albert Donatti order the hit?” Cade asked curtly. Maxine shook her head. “No,” she sobbed. “Tony thought he should do the job first, and then go to Donatti and ask for the money.” She sniffed. “I told Tony it was a stupid idea, but he was sure we could make a bundle, and that no one would ever know. I didn’t want to do it!” But she went along with it anyway, Cade thought bitterly. “Why Riley Barnett, then?” The woman shrugged. “Tony thought she would be an easy target, a good way to get his feet wet, I guess,” she said. “He thought it would be safer to start with a woman instead of a man.” “Where is your husband now, Maxine?” Conner asked.

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She didn’t answer, but only fiddled nervously with the tissue in her hand, and Cade ground his jaw. “You’re already an accessory to attempted murder, Maxine,” he told the woman. “Tell us where your husband is and the district attorney will probably take that into account.” Maxine said nothing for a moment, but Cade could tell she was considering his words. “I don’t know for sure, but I gave him the address for the safe house down in Olympia this morning,” she said finally. “He’s probably on his way there.” Cade felt his gut clench. Riley, he thought. He could hear Conner talking to someone on his cell phone, ordering the local PD to the safe house, but Cade didn’t wait around to see what else the man said. Instead, he got the address for the safe house from Maxine and was out the door before Conner could stop him.

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Chapter Seven Riley never ate ice cream right out of the container, but that afternoon she found herself sitting at the kitchen table with a pint of chocolate chip mint, half listening to the two Marshals talk about the baseball game they were watching on television in the living room and feeling altogether miserable. It had only been a day since she’d seen Cade, but Riley missed him so much that her heart ached. How was it possible to develop such strong feelings for a man she barely knew? she wondered. She’d only slept with him one time. And they hadn’t even exactly hit it off in the beginning. But as she sat there eating the ice cream, she wondered if she and Cade would have ended up dating if they had met under different circumstances. Then again, she thought, it was highly unlikely that they ever would have met at all if she hadn’t been in the Witness Protection Program. As painful as it was to think about, Riley let herself imagine what could have been. If she weren’t moving to parts unknown, would things have gotten serious between her and Cade? Would they even have gotten married? She liked the idea that they might have. Tears abruptly stung her eyes. What was the use of daydreaming about something that wasn’t going to ever happen? All it did was make her feel more wretched. Angrily wiping away the tear that trickled down her cheek, Riley jabbed her spoon into the ice cream again, only to freeze when she heard a loud thud coming from the front of the house. It sounded like it had come from the living room, she thought. But before she could even begin to puzzle out what it could have been, she heard a series of loud bangs. Oh God, she thought. Gunshots! With the colored lights on the dash flashing and the siren blaring, Cade made the two-hour drive to the safe house in half that time. The local police were already there, as was an ambulance, and Cade felt his blood run cold at the sight of the latter. Had that bastard Caruthers succeeded in killing Riley this time? Cade barely put the Jeep in park before he was out and running toward the house, flashing the silver star on his badge to the cops standing along the perimeter as he did so. Taking the steps two at a time, he hurried into the house to find the paramedics kneeling down beside the Marshals that had been guarding Riley. Both men had been shot, Thompson in the shoulder and Morris in the stomach. Afraid to think what that meant for Riley, Cade strode over to crouch down beside the woman tending to Thompson. “Where’s Riley?” Cade asked. Thompson jerked his head toward the rear of the house, only to wince at the movement. “She must have gone out the back,” he said. “The shooter went after her.” Swearing under his breath, Cade got to his feet and raced through the living room and down the hallway to the back of the house, pulling his weapon as he went. The kitchen door was wide open and Cade immediately headed for it. 72

In the backyard, there were several uniformed cops standing around talking, and Cade hurried up to them. “Has anyone gone after them?” Cade asked, referring to Riley and the man hunting her. One of the cops shook his head. “No,” he said. “We have some dogs that should be here any minute, though. We’re waiting for them.” Cade stared at the other men in disbelief. The ground was soaking wet and the tracks through the mud were obvious to anyone. He could have stood there and chewed them out for their lack of police work, but decided that it would be a waste of time. Instead, he headed into the woods behind the house. A path led directly from the backyard to a dense, wooded area and even if the ground hadn’t been muddy enough from the rain they’d had earlier in the day for him to see footprints, Cade instinctively knew that was where Riley had gone. It was the only place to go really. And though Cade was grateful for the muddy tracks, he also knew they would give Caruthers an advantage as well. But Riley was a fast runner, Cade reminded himself as he set out after her. And if she had a good head start, there was no way Caruthers would catch up to her. Unless she ran out of places to run. Cade had been running for at least twenty minutes through the wet, slippery forest, at the same time working hard to keep his eyes on the tracks in the mud, when a dark shape suddenly burst through the trees and over a small hill directly ahead of him. Skidding to a halt, Cade instinctively took aim with his Glock, only to let out a sigh of relief when he realized it was Riley. Her long hair was a wild tangle around her shoulders, and there was mud all over her clothes. But Cade didn’t think he’d ever seen her look more beautiful. For a moment, Riley just stared at Cade, unable to believe that he was really there. Then, with a cry of relief, she closed the distance between them and threw herself into his arms. He wrapped his arm around her tightly, enveloping her in his warmth, and she sobbed against his chest. She was safe now, she told herself. “Oh God, I w-was so scared, Cade,” she told him, her breath coming fast and hard, the words half-muffled against his chest. “I d-didn’t know wh-what to do, so I ran. But he f-followed me...” Cade smoothed her hair with his hand. “Shhh, you did good, sweetheart,” he said softly. Then, still holding onto her, he took a step back to gaze down at her. “Where is he, Riley?” She looked up at Cade through her tears. “Somewhere behind me, I think,” she said. “I doubled back, but I think he must have realized it because as I was running, I could still hear him behind me every once in a while.” Cade’s gaze quickly darted to the wooded area around them before going back to her. “Go back to the house,” he told her. “The police are there, so you’ll be safe.” Riley frowned up at him. “What are you going to do?” His jaw tightened. “I’m going after the guy that tried to kill you.” She tightened her grip on his arm. “You can’t!” she protested. “He’s got a gun!” “So do I,” Cade told her. “Now, go back to the house.” “Cade...” she began, but he cut her off. 73

“Dammit, Riley, for once in your life just do as you’re told!” he growled. “Now, go!” His tone brooked no argument and this time, Riley obeyed. Still reluctant to leave Cade alone, however, she took off at a slow trot over the sloppy, uneven ground. She was exhausted and would rather just have waited and walked back with Cade, but she understood his desire both to keep her safe and to catch the guy who had been terrorizing her once and for all. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried for Cade, and she couldn’t help but stop when heard the sound of footsteps crashing through the forest behind her. The hit man had caught up to her already, she thought. Even though Cade had told her to go back to the house, Riley found herself turning around and heading back toward the clearing where she had left Cade. Heart hammering wildly in her chest, she got there just in time to see the hit man standing in front of Cade, gasping for breath. “Drop the gun and put your hands in the air!” Cade ordered, leveling his own weapon at the man. Riley held her breath as she waited to see what the man would do. For a moment, he just stood there, his weapon still pointed at Cade, and Riley felt fear grip her. Oh God, what if he shot Cade? But to her relief, the hit man tossed the gun onto the ground and slowly lifted his hand above his head. Relieved that it was finally over, Riley jogged back over to where Cade was standing. Though it wasn’t her intention to distract him, she did, and in the split-second it took for him to glance her way, the other man charged. Riley opened her mouth to warn Cade, but it was too late. The other man had already knocked him to the ground and they were grappling. Her eyes wide, Riley watched helplessly while the two men struggled with each other. She had to help Cade, she thought. But how? Not quite sure, she ran toward the men, only to jerk to a halt when she saw Cade’s gun go flying into the bushes. Her first instinct was to go look for it, but she knew it would take forever to find it, so instead, she reached down and scooped up a heavy branch that was lying on the ground. Gripping it tightly, she slowly approached the two men. They were rolling around on the ground, each of them struggling furiously to gain the upper hand. She had to be careful, she told herself; she didn’t want to end up hitting Cade by mistake. Suddenly, the hit man rolled on top of Cade and drew his arm back to punch the Marshal. Knowing she wouldn’t have a better opportunity, Riley swung a vicious blow at the hit man’s head, only to hit Cade across the shoulders instead when he rolled his opponent over. “Dammit, Riley, what the hell are you doing?!” he yelled at her while he still grappled with the man. “I’m trying to help!” she shouted back. “Well, stop it!” he ordered. Disregarding what Cade said, Riley tightened her grip on the branch, ready to whack the guy again if she got the chance, but it wasn’t necessary. Within a few moments, Cade had the hit man subdued and cuffed. Cade glared at her as he hauled the man to his feet. “I thought I told you to go back to the house,” he growled.

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She gave him a sheepish look as she dropped the branch on the ground. “I know, but I thought you might need help or something.” “Really?” he said sarcastically. “And how did that work out for you?” The question really didn’t require and answer, but Riley gave him an embarrassed shrug anyway. “I’m sorry I hit you,” she said. Cade gave her an exasperated look but made no comment. “Come on,” he said. Still pushing the hit man in front of him, he led the way back to the house. When they got back, the place was a complete madhouse. There were dozens of police cars, as well as what looked like every Marshal from the Seattle and the Tacoma offices. Of course, there was already a lot of press there as well, but to Riley’s relief, they were relegated to a spot behind the yellow tape at the bottom of the driveway. Riley didn’t really need any medical attention, but at Cade’s insistence, she allowed the paramedics to check her out. To her chagrin, the EMT fussed over ever scratch and scrape. The man was just finishing up with her when Deputy Chief Conner walked over. “The other Marshals that were with me,” she said. “How are they?” He nodded. “They’re both in surgery, but they’re expected to make a complete recovery.” She nodded, relieved to hear that. “That’s good,” she said. “So, what happens to me now?” Conner shrugged. “Actually, that’s up to you.” Her brow furrowed. “Up to me?” she said. “I don’t understand.” “It turns out that Albert Donatti didn’t hire Caruthers to kill you. after all,” Conner explained. “As a matter of fact, Donatti is really no longer a threat to you at all. He turned evidence on some of his own and is now in the WitSec Program himself. We’ll have to go through some bureaucratic procedures, but I would think that you would be removed from the list of protected witnesses.” It took a moment for Riley to wrap her mind around what Deputy Chief Conner had just told her. “So you’re saying that I don’t have to move then? That I can go back to using my real name again?” The older man gave her a small smile. “I think that’s all going to be up to you now,” he told her. “We would certainly move you one more time, though, if you wanted us to.” Riley glanced at Cade to find him watching her with those remarkable gold eyes of his. “Actually,” she said softly. “I kind of like it here in Seattle.” Conner nodded. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “I’ll have someone take you home.” Riley hoped Cade would volunteer, but to her dismay, Deputy Chief Conner was already calling over another Marshal. “Like I said, there’s some paperwork we’ll need to go over, Ms. Barnett, but we can do that another time. Deputy Brogan will take you home,” the older man said to Riley, and then, giving her a nod, pulled Cade off to the side to speak to him before walking over to intercept the group of reporters coming their way. Riley hesitated, giving Cade a glance out of the corner of her eye, but he was deep in conversation with the uniformed police officer who had come up to him. Disappointed 75

that he wasn’t even going to say goodbye to her, she followed Deputy Brogan toward his car. She was just about to get in when she heard Cade calling her name. Her pulse skipping a beat, Riley tried to hide her eagerness as she turned to see him jogging toward her. “I wanted to catch you before you left,” he said. Riley held her breath as she waited for him to continue. He glanced at the other Marshal standing by the driver’s side door, and then back at her. “I can’t really talk to you here, though,” he said. “Would it be okay if I stopped by your apartment later?” She was tempted to ask him what he meant when he’d said that he couldn’t talk about it there, but Deputy Chief Conner was already calling Cade over to talk to the press. “Of course,” she said. “That would be fine.” He looked relieved. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” As she watched him walk away, Riley tried to tell herself not to read too much into Cade’s wanting to see her, but she couldn’t suppress the surge of excitement that began to course through her. Riley changed clothes half a dozen times that night before finally settling on a simple skirt and camisole top. She had no idea why Cade had asked to come over and told herself again not to read to much into it. For all she knew, he might be bringing over the paperwork that Deputy Chief Conner had mentioned. God, she hoped not! The doorbell rang then, interrupting her thoughts, and Riley felt her pulse quicken. Smoothing her hands over her short skirt, she gave herself one more look in the mirror before hurrying to answer the door. Once in the entryway, however, she paused to take a deep, calming breath. She couldn’t ever remember being so nervous! Wetting her lips, she ran her hands over her skirt again, and then threw open the door. Cade was dressed and jeans and a button-up shirt, and looking even more gorgeous than Riley remembered. She must have stood there gazing at him for a full minute before she finally managed to find her voice. “Come in,” she said, taking a step back so that he could do so. He took in her outfit, his gaze lingering on her legs for a moment, and Riley felt herself blush. “You look nice,” he told her. “Thank you,” she said softly. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten already, so I stopped by to pick up some Chinese food,” he said. Riley glanced down at the bag in his hand in surprise, realizing that she hadn’t noticed it before. This was definitely not an official call, then. “No, actually I haven’t,” she said. Giving him a smile, she took the bag. “I’ll get some plates.” “That’d be great,” Cade said as he followed her into the kitchen. “But I was hoping we could talk about what happened the other night first.” Riley’s heart plummeted, the smell of the food wafting up from the bag making her feel sick all of a sudden. This was the part where Cade told her that he hoped she hadn’t read anything into what had happened between them at the hotel, and that while they couldn’t have a relationship, he hoped they could still be friends, she thought. Swallowing hard, she set the bag down on the counter and turned to look at him.

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Cade cleared his throat again. “I know that we didn’t really get off on the right foot, and that there was a lot of stuff that happened between us at the safe house, but I think we have a connection,” he said, and then immediately held up his hand. “Before you say anything, let me finish.” Riley almost smiled. She hadn’t been going to say anything, but it seemed obvious that Cade had rehearsed whatever he was going to say quite a bit and she didn’t want her to interrupt him. In all honesty, she didn’t know where he was going with this, but the part about them having a connection definitely made her pulse quicken. “Actually, there’s more than a connection. As cliché as this is going to sound, I think we were meant to be together,” Cade continued. “I know that when this started, you were just a witness I was supposed to protect, but even though you drove me crazy most of the time, I found myself drawn to you. And that feeling got stronger the more we were together. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I do know that for my part, I want you in my life.” She blinked up at him, suddenly unable to breathe. “What are you saying, Cade?” she asked softly. Cade reached out to gently brush a strand of hair back from her face. “I’m saying that when you were in danger, I could barely think straight, and that made me realize what you mean to me.” He paused and took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you, Riley Barnett.” Riley caught her breath, speechless. Of all the things she had expected Cade to say when he had come over tonight, telling her that he had fallen in love with her had definitely not been one of them. In front of her, Cade suddenly looked unsure of himself. “I think this is the part where you’re supposed to say something,” he told her quietly. She took a step closer to him, her lips curving into a smile. “Well, then how about this?” she said. “I love you too, Cade Cutler.” A grin spreading across his handsome face, Cade slid his hand into her hair and bent his head to kiss her on the mouth. Riley melted against him, parting her lips to urge him on with her tongue, and by the time he lifted his head a few minutes later, she was breathless. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he said softly. “We need to talk about what happened in those woods behind the safe house today.” Her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked up at him. He wanted to talk about that now? “What about it?” she asked. He lifted a brow. “I told you to go back to the safe house, and instead, you decided not to.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I told you,” she said. “I was worried about you and thought you might need help.” Cade’s jaw tightened. “Riley, you once again foolishly put yourself in danger,” he said. “And more importantly, you refused to do what I told you to do.” Riley looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I promise I won’t do it again.” He let out a sigh. “I know you believe that,” he said. “But I need to make sure, and since the only way I can ever seem to get you to really listen to me is to give you a spanking, that’s what I’m going to have to do.” 77

She blinked at him in surprise. “A spanking?” she echoed. “You’re not serious!” Cade couldn’t really mean to spank her, not after telling her he loved her, she thought. But he had already taken her hand and was leading her into the living room. “But you said you loved me!” she protested. “I do love you,” he told her over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m doing this.” That could only make sense to a guy, she thought. “But what about dinner?” she reminded him. “It’ll be cold.” He turned to face her. “We’ll reheat it,” he said, and then his mouth quirked. “Right now, I’m more concerned about warming that sexy, little bottom of yours and making sure that you don’t do anything as foolish as you did today again. At least until you forget how much a spanking stings.” Though her lips formed into a pout, Riley allowed Cade to draw her over his knee without too much more protest. Considering how that most recent spanking he’d given her at the hotel had culminated in some incredibly hot sex, she supposed she could put up with a sore bottom. But she really would have to talk to him about this habit of his to spank her every time she didn’t do what he told her. He was going to have to learn that just because he was from Texas, he couldn’t spank her like this was the old west. But that would have to wait, she supposed, because he was obviously intent on spanking her right now. Wiggling into a more comfortable position, Riley pillowed her head on her arms and waited for Cade to begin. Even though she knew it was coming, the first spank still caught her by surprise. Ouch, she thought. Couldn’t he start a little bit softer? But before she could ask him about it, he landed a second smack to her other cheek. “Owwwww!” she cried. “Cade, that stings!” “Good,” he told her, bringing his hand down again in another stinging smack. “That way you won’t be tempted to do anything foolish for a long time.” After another dozen spanks, her bottom really felt like it was on fire, and unable to control herself, Riley reached her hand back to protect her tender asscheeks. But Cade only grabbed her wrist and held it pinned against the small of her back. “You’re not getting off that easy,” he told her with a chuckle. “I tend to remember you hitting me with that branch pretty hard.” “But I didn’t mean to hit you!” she protested even as his hand came down on her bottom again. “If you...owwwww!...had stayed still...owwwww!...for a minute, I would have...owwwww!...gotten him!” “You know,” he said, pausing to rest his hand on her stinging bottom. “I don’t think you’re getting the point of this spanking. Maybe I should try a different approach.” Before she could even ask what he meant by that, Riley felt Cade push up her skirt, exposing her skimpy black thong. She had worn it because she’d hoped they might end up making love that night, but the realization that he was seeing her wearing something so sexy was enough to get her pussy purring. Which was strange, she thought, considering that the spanking stung so much. She’d definitely have to give that some thought later, she decided. “Very nice,” he commented, running his hand over her bare bottom. “It’s almost as if you knew you were going to get a spanking tonight.” Riley gasped and started to tell him that she knew nothing of the sort, but the words disappeared on her lips when his hand connected with her right cheek. 78

“Owwwww!” she yelped, going rigid over his lap. “Not so hard! You may not realize it, but that skirt provided a lot of protection.” Cade chuckled. “Then it’s a good thing I pushed it up,” he told her as he began to apply his hand firmly to first one cheek, and then the other in an easy rhythm. That had her kicking and squirming all over the place. The spanking wouldn’t have been nearly that bad if it weren’t for the cell phone, or whatever it was he had in his pocket, jabbing her in the hip every time she wiggled. “Okay, okay!” she squealed. “I get the point! I promise to be good and do exactly what you say from now on!” “I really doubt that,” Cade drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice. “In fact, I imagine you’ll be getting yourself into trouble frequently. Which is fine with me, as long as you realize that you’ll be getting a spanking every time you do.” He punctuated his words with one more hard spank to her bare bottom before he took her hand and helped her to her feet. Riley gave him a pout as she stood there rubbing her sore bottom. Her poor ass was on fire! But just like with the spanking he’d given her at the hotel, her pussy was soaking wet. Of course, there was no way she was going to let Cade know that the spanking had gotten her all excited. He’d want to give her one every day! That thought made her face turn almost as red as her bottom. “That was a really hard spanking,” she pouted. “Next time, could you remember to at least pull the cell phone out of your pocket before you put me over your knee. That thing is really uncomfortable when I’m wiggling around.” Cade’s mouth twitched. “Sorry about that,” he said, getting to his feet. “It’s not my cell phone, though. But I’m glad you mentioned it. I was actually going to give it to you later, but I think that now is probably the perfect time.” Riley watched as he pulled something out of his pocket, only to feel her heart begin to beat wildly as he dropped to one knee in front of her. The spanking she’d just gotten all but forgotten, she stared transfixed at the ring box Cade held in his hand. “I know this might be kind of sudden,” Cade said. “And I don’t want you to feel that you have to give me an answer right now, but when I said that I wanted you in my life before, I meant forever.” With that, Cade opened the box in his hand to reveal the most beautiful engagement ring Riley had ever seen. Oh God, she thought, he was really asking her to marry him! “Like I said, there’s no rush to give me your answer,” he told her. “But I hope that you’ll think about it and that someday you’ll agree to marry me.” Riley smiled down at him, tears of happiness in her eyes. “I don’t need to think about it. I can give you my answer right now,” she said. “Of course, I’ll marry you!” For a moment, Cade seemed surprised that she had given him an answer so quickly, but then he grinned. Taking the ring from its velvet-lined box, he slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand, then got to his feet and pulled her into his arms for a passionate kiss. Lifting his head a moment later, Cade gave her a serious look. “You know what this means, don’t you?” he said. “You’ll have to change your name again.” Riley laughed. “That’s okay. I’m used to it,” she said pulling his head down to kiss him again. 79

Also by Paige Tyler from Blushing Books: The Cutler Trilogy ISBN: 978-1-935152-08-8 The Cutler Brother Series combines three very popular erotic spanking romances into one print volume. You've already read about "Cade," a US Marshall who rescues a woman in the Witness Protection Program from herself, among other things. Now read about his brother, "Madoc," who is trapped by a snowstorm with a fugitive he`s trying to bring in, and forced in the process to confront the truth about her. Then, in "The Cutler Brides," Cade and Madoc`s new brides, Riley and Shayna confront a mystery of their own. Three novels, twenty two total chapters in one volume! The Friends Series: ISBN: 978-1-935152-11-8 Three great novellas in on value-priced volume. Fifteen chapters in all... In "Spicing Up Her Marriage," Madison Holloway wants to spice up her marriage, so she asks her friend for a little advice and is shocked when the other girl mentions that spanking might be just the thing. How could spanking be fun? she wonders. After witnessing her friend get a spanking, however, Madison is so intrigued that she decides she wants to try it herself. Now there's just one problem. How is she going to get her husband, Trent, to spank her? There has to be a better way than coming out and asking for one, right? In "Taking Her Friend`s Advice," beautiful redhead Kaelyn Radcliff falls head over heels for Holt McCall, the guy that her best friend, Madison, has set her up with. But there's a problem when it quickly becomes apparent that Holt wants to put her over his knee and spank her! The whole thing just seems a little too kinky for Kaelyn?s conservative tastes. But after some convincing on the part of her new boyfriend - and on the advice of her friend she finally agrees to give it a try, if for no other reason than to get Holt to drop the whole subject. In "It`s Just a Job," book editor Brooke Fontaine decides to quit her job at a major publisher to become a full-time novelist. She moves back to Seattle and starts writing. But even with the help of her friend, Kaelyn, she discovers her money isn't stretching as far as she had hoped it would, so when Kaelyn mentions she knows a guy who needs a model for a photo shoot, she jumps at it. The money will be great and the job will leave her lots of time to work on her novel. There's just one hitch. The photos are for a spanking publication, and Alex Cunningham, the gorgeous guy who hires her, has no idea that she's never been spanked before!But Brooke should be able to fake it. After all, how hard can it be? Kayla and the Rancher: ISBN: 978-1-935152-17-0

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Rancher Cord Holderness needs a wife, but with few prospects in the Wyoming Territory, he decides that the only way to find a well-bred young lady is to get a mailorder bride. However, the girl that?s supposed to be his mail-order bride gets cold feet and leaves it up to her new friend, Kayla Mathison, to tell him that she?s changed her mind. But when the handsome rancher assumes that the fiercely independent and stubborn Kayla is his mail-order bride, she finds herself going along with it. Running from an arranged marriage herself, and desperately in need of funds to get herself to San Francisco, she decides to lead Cord on so that she can steal the money she needs from him. But as the days turn into weeks, she finds that the money doesn?t interest her as much as it once did, especially when Cord starts putting her over his knee and spanking her whenever she becomes a little too willful for his liking. Much to her surprise, she discovers that she?s fallen in love with him. Life on the ranch gets even more complicated when a ruthless land baron wants to take over every piece of grazing land in the territory, including Cord?s, and will do anything to get it. Then, as if that weren?t enough, Kayla?s very determined fianc? comes to town looking for her.But Kayla has built this relationship with Cord by letting him think that she?s someone else, and she can only hope that Cord loves her enough to forgive her when he find out she?s not really his mail-order bride. The Ambassador's Daughter: ISBN: 978-1935152-21-7 Sparks fly in this sci-fi spanking romance when an interplanetary ambassador's spoiled, impetuous daughter, Inarii Kal'yle, finally meets her match in the form of her new, no-nonsense bodyguard, the handsome Rand Barany. An expert in the field of personal protection, Rand has a reputation for getting the job done, and has no patience for his charge's blatant disregard for the rules. Threats abound around the beautiful socialite, but are they from her father's enemies or the obsessed stalker who has unknowingly been tracking her? Rand doesn't know or care; his job is to keep her safe. But how can he do that when she takes a perverse sort of pleasure in slipping away from him every chance she gets? Finally, he has no choice but to do what he's wanted to do since their first meeting ? he drags he over his knee and spanks her. Outraged, she runs to her father, thinking that he will dismiss her brute of a bodyguard. But her father surprises her by siding with Rand, telling her that it's no more than she deserves. Then, as if that weren't enough, he practically gives Rand permission to spank her whenever the man sees fit!But when the threats becomes all too real and they're on the run for their lives, Inarii has no choice but to depend on Rand. Even then, her nature won't allow her to follow his orders, and he's forced to spank her repeatedly - for her own good, according to him. And though she may fight Rand every step of the way, it doesn't keep her from falling for the big brute! Bride Combo: ISBN: 978-1-935152-84-2

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Two of Paige Tyler`s best stories together in a discounted pack! This bundle carries the romances "Date for a Wedding" and "Bridezilla"! Bridezilla: Travis McAlister had heard about it happening, but he never imagined his beautiful, sweet-tempered fiance, Chloe Sheridan, would turn into a bridezilla. But when they set the date for their wedding, Chloe changed right in front of his eyes, and his once calm, organized girlfriend was now freaking out over every minor detail. He tried to ignore it, but when they were still without a DJ a week before the wedding, Travis finally decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. Not only did he hire one for her, but when she began to argue with him about it, he put her over his knee for a well-deserved spanking, followed up with a stern warning to behave or he would have no choice but to do it again. Would that one spanking be enough to get her to change her ways? Doubtful, not with a hundred decisions yet to be made and an out-ofcontrol bride determined to make a major event out of every one of them. Date for a Wedding: Sabrina Kyle wants to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, and what better way to do that than to go to a mutual friend`s wedding with a handsome man on her arm? But finding such a man on short notice can be difficult, and against her better judgment, Sabrina asks the gorgeous Holden McKenna, a co-worker at the advertising agency where she works, to be her date. Her plan works extremely well and her ex can`t help but notice her. But things go awry when Holden catches onto the scheme. Not at all pleased to find out that she`s used him, Holden drags her off for what he considers is a well-deserved over-the-knee spanking! Consoling herself with the fact that at least she made her ex jealous, Sabrina spends the rest of the evening nursing a sore bottom while she promises to stay as far away from Holden as she can. At work the next day, however, Sabrina is mortified to learn that she and Holden have been selected to work on a new advertising campaign together. To make matters worse, events conspire against them and they are forced to share a hotel room while they try to meet the looming deadline. But how can she be expected her to work with a man who puts her over his knee every time they have a difference of opinion? Size: 2 Novellas / 10 Chapters Total (5 Chapters Each)

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Her Personal Trainer by Starla Kaye

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Chapter One A high gloss brochure of a Bahamas cruise lie on the middle of Elizabeth’s desk, right next to an invitation to her high school graduating class’s tenth reunion. She was certain that she’d thrown both items into the trash Friday when they’d arrived in the mail. She’d rather eat live bugs, like on one of those TV reality shows, than put herself through such hell. Crossing the flashy black and white corner office that overlooked Kansas City’s Country Club Plaza, she felt moths fluttering blindly in her stomach. She’d always considered the nervous feelings the dance of moths, not butterflies. Butterflies were for pretty people and not plain Jane’s like her. At least her father had called her his poor little Plain Jane for as long as she could remember, right up until the day he died almost five years ago. Since she’d been so unpopular in high school and college, she’d only gone on a handful of dates arranged by her well-meaning mother or her roommate, Abigail. In the last few years, since the success of the firm she and Abigail co-owned, she’d gone on a few unarranged dates. Even those had been disappointing. Now it seemed that men only wanted to be seen with her because of her professional status. She was no more than another step on their social climbing ladder. Which really meant she was still that “poor little Plain Jane.” Her long, perfectly manicured fingers trembled as she picked up the fancy invitation. She recalled looking into her mirror only a short while ago and putting the finishing touches on her eye makeup. She seldom thought about how she looked, didn’t like thinking about it. Since those high school years when she’d been a tad overweight, complete with chubby cheeks and thighs she’d preferred to keep hidden, she’d had a late growth spurt as well as a change in metabolism. At 5’9” now that weight had spread out and she no longer cringed when she glanced at herself in the mirror while shopping for new clothes. But both the laughing taunts she remembered from those high school days and the memories of being overlooked for dates and so much else on into college were still painful. They shouldn’t be with the success she’d obtained since that time. They shouldn’t be with the constant invitations she received to social gatherings these days. But they were. She started to toss the invitation into her sleek black trashcan when Abigail bounced into her office. Abigail always “bounced.” The petite blonde had befriended Elizabeth during their last year of college at Kansas State University and been greeting her with a smile almost daily since then. This dreary, rainy late March morning proved to be no different. “Don’t you dare throw that away again!” Abigail chastised, dashing across the room and snagging Elizabeth’s arm. She flashed her killer smile. “You need to go to this. You need to show those snooty idiots what a beauty you’ve become.” Elizabeth tried to glower at her friend, but it had always been impossible to be mad at Abigail. After a second, she slumped down into the white leather chair behind her 84

gleaming ebony desk. Black and white, opposites. Like she and Abigail. “I no longer crack mirrors when I glance into them, but I’d hardly refer to myself as beautiful.” She toyed with the cruise brochure. She’d long wanted to go on a cruise, and that was the only reason she hadn’t shredded the brochure. “Anyway, we’re too busy for me to even consider taking time off.” She raised her gaze and saw Abigail’s knowing smile. “Stop that! I don’t want to go. I don’t need to prove myself to any of them. They rejected me then, so why would I care what they think of me now?” Abigail perched on the edge of the desk, smoothing out the slightly crumpled invitation. “You WANT to go. We both know it. Not so much for their opinions now, but to prove something to YOURSELF.” She looked straight at Elizabeth in that very determined manner she had at times. “I called in your reservation over the weekend, Ellie.” Elizabeth sucked in a breath, not at Abigail’s bold act of taking charge, but at the unnerving realization that she was going because she wouldn’t cancel out now. The sad truth was that she desperately needed to do this, just as Abigail had said. “Oh, Abby,” she finally said on a moan. “How am I going to get ready for this cruise? I’m blindingly pale. So far out of bikini shape that it’s laughable. Not that I even own a bikini. Or any type of clothing remotely right for a cruise. Oh Abby, Abby, Abby. I’m hopeless.” “You’ve got to get past this pity party nonsense. For the next eight weeks we’re going to start revealing the hidden beauty that is you.” Abigail leapt off the desk and practically danced in delight around the white-carpeted room. “Shopping is my specialty. We’ll get a complete new wardrobe. Clothes that will stop hiding your to-die-for hourglass figure—“ “How can you possibly know what I look like beneath my conservative suits?” Elizabeth interrupted, definitely alarmed by Abigail’s bubbling enthusiasm to transform her. She’d long ago taken to wearing clothes that were elegant but gave away no signs of what she really looked like. Just as she kept her real feelings, real hurts buried deep inside. Abigail laughed, a soft, whispery laugh that was impossible to resent. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. I can size up a client’s office design personality with a mere glance at the client. I see beneath the surface they flash at the world. And I have known for years the lovely person hidden behind your tasteful but far from revealing clothing.” She smiled warmly. “Loveliness, my naïve friend, is not merely seen in one’s body type. Not that your body type isn’t wonderful, I just know it is. But the loveliness that is Elizabeth Marie Wingate goes so much deeper.” The phone rang and since it was still well before eight o’clock and the receptionist hadn’t arrived, Elizabeth grabbed for the phone. She felt overwhelmed by her forced decision to attend the reunion. Even more overwhelmed by the possibility of a complete makeover. Her heart pounded with nerves and anticipation. “Wingate-Cooper Designs,” she said, struggling to get her mind wrapped around the reality of business. “Your date for the Chamber Gala will arrive promptly at six-thirty tomorrow night,” Elizabeth’s mother said briskly. “I’ve got to go, sweetie, do try and have fun.” The Chamber Gala? When had she mentioned it to her mother? Why had she mentioned it? Her stomach knotted. She didn’t want to go, had never intended to go.

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She’d just have to send the latest of her mother’s blind dates on his way when he showed up tomorrow night. “A personal trainer!” Abigail gasped, stopping at the doorway to grin at Elizabeth. “I can handle the clothing and makeup do-overs. But you’ll want someone to help you whip that spectacular body I know you have into bikini, body-revealing shape. I’ll get right on that project!” She bounced out of the room, no doubt racing to her own office to focus on further upsetting Elizabeth’s life. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth wondered if she should just consider moving to some remote island and really hiding away. *** The long drive into the Country Club Plaza area from Kansas City’s airport gave Chase a lot of time to think. It had been a long time since he’d taken on a business client in KC. As busy as the highway was, the pace seemed so much slower than what he’d experienced over the past year in bouncing from New York City to Los Angeles to London and back to New York City. He enjoyed those cities, but he was ready to ease up a bit on the social scenes. He hated to admit it, but after turning thirty-four last week and being around all his nieces and nephews for a day… Well, instead of feeling eager to leave his youngest sister’s home he’d wanted to stay longer and enjoy the warmth of being with family. He’d left envious of his brothers-in-law and their rowdy bunch of kids. He took the exit to the Plaza area, shaking his head in amazement. His melancholy mood and odd need for some calmer times had resulted in his having taken on this small headhunting job here. Even more out of character for him lately, he’d agreed to repay a long-standing favor to Carolyn Wingate. He’d agreed to a blind date. Traffic picked up again, but it didn’t bother him. It took a lot to upset him. Although he suspected he should feel a bit ticked off with Carolyn for having maneuvered him into taking on this job he normally would have turned down, and for persuading him to go on the first blind date of his life. He’d never planned to put himself through this kind of nightmare. But Carolyn had been persistent, and he’d been between jobs at the moment. Actually, he’d wanted to take a month or so off and recharge his batteries, so to speak. He’d imagined lounging around on some beach, doing a bit of jogging, reading the latest best seller he’d picked up. Life was full of surprises and he had always been good at adapting to whatever came his way. Smiling to himself, he wondered if Elizabeth Wingate liked surprises. He’d gotten into town a day early and called her office to see about meeting for lunch only to learn she’d taken the day off. Her partner sounded like a ball of fire even over the phone. The kind of woman he normally enjoyed spending time with, going to bed with. Maybe he’d meet her at some point. Right now, though, his plan was to drop in on Carolyn’s daughter and get a feel for her before they actually went out together. Unfortunately he already had her pegged as yet another uppity, successful professional woman like so many others he’d met over the years. They bored him after more than a first date. No real substance. No idea of fun. At least he’d only promised Carolyn the one date. ***

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Limping along the sidewalk in front of the towering condominium building she lived in, Elizabeth swore she’d kill Abigail for this stupid, stupid idea. Okay, so maybe her friend hadn’t actually told her to go jogging. But she was insisting Elizabeth go on that dumb cruise, which meant she needed to get this sorry body of hers into some kind of condition. She saw people jogging around the area all the time. They made it look so easy. Ha! She stopped for a second to rub at the hitch in her side, and to give her poor overworked heart a chance to catch up. Stopping also made her realize how much her calves hurt. Inside the deck tennis shoes definitely not made for jogging, her feet hurt, too. Okay she hurt everywhere. She’d only gone around a square block, a block with a slight uphill and then a slight downhill. She felt like she’d run from here to China and back. Out of shape didn’t even cover her condition. A pair of men jogging and talking at the same time passed her, giving her a look. Sympathetic? Amused? She couldn’t tell exactly, but she wouldn’t mind at all seeing them both trip over some crack in the sidewalk. Pulling a hamstring might be okay as well. She straightened with as much dignity as she could muster and began trudging her way to the front door again. A hundred feet. Fifty feet. You can do it. You can do it. Just get to the elevator. A short ride, a small walk down the hallway to your suite and you can collapse. Right there on the entry floor, on the sofa if you can make it a little further. The pep talk wasn’t helping all that much. Lost in her concentration of just surviving, she barely noticed someone else striding up the walk behind her. As she reached for the door handle, a long, muscled forearm swept around her and a man stepped into her line of vision to open the door for her. A man who literally took her breath away. Or was she still dealing with a heart pumping on overload and lungs that were protesting the strenuous workout? Whatever. She wanted to remember the sight of the tall, smiling man with surfer-long blonde hair forever. She also wanted to have the floor open below her and allow her to drop away into oblivion. Instead she ended up swaying on her worn out legs and being caught by her gorgeous mystery man. “Easy, sweetheart,” he said in a voice that hinted at Texas mixed with Midwest. “Are you okay? Hurt somewhere?” Elizabeth thought of how sweat soaked her over-sized Kansas City Chiefs T-shirt between her shoulder blades and between her breasts. Breasts with nipples hardening as they lie pressed against his chest. She thought of how her normally perfectly coifed hair had been drawn up into a childish ponytail, which was now hanging limply in disarray. Could her life get any worse? She didn’t think so. What did it matter anyway? As soon as he let her go, they’d go their separate ways. He to whatever gorgeous woman was no doubt waiting for him somewhere in the building. A woman she oddly hated. And she would continue on to her apartment, where she could replay this humiliation over and over as she vowed to forget the cruise idea and check into moving to the edges of the earth. He gently smoothed her hair and repeated, “Are you hurt?” “Every inch of my body hurts,” she admitted, and felt her face heat in embarrassment. Why had she said that? Jeez!

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Beneath her ear still pressed against his chest—because she was reluctant to move away from him—she felt the rumble of his chuckle. “First time jogging?” he asked in a perceptive manner. She found the energy and strength of will to step out of his embrace. It was difficult, but she raised her chin proudly and looked up into his dark blue eyes. Her poor heart picked up its pace all over again. “First and last time,” she managed to say. Her calves screamed at the abuse they’d endured once more and she winced. “Thanks for keeping me from crashing to the floor a minute ago. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go up to my apartment and quietly die.” He smiled and laugh lines appeared at the sides of his mouth. He sported the need-a-shave look that some men wore these days and that she hadn’t thought she liked— until now. His sexy-as-sin appeal ratcheted up another notch, no, several notches. “Catching beautiful women is what I do.” Surprising herself, she laughed and teased back, “What a shame. Hot stud and blind as a bat.” As he stood there caught off guard by her brazen statement, she limped toward the elevator, calling over her shoulder, “Thanks again for acting the white knight.” *** Elizabeth had barely ripped off the torturous shoes and was wiggling her protesting toes as she sat on the sofa when someone rang her doorbell. She wasn’t up to facing anyone. She wasn’t even up to getting off the sofa. The bell rang again, and again. Someone was darn persistent. Annoyance gave her the strength to fling herself off the sofa and march to the door. Irritation had her glancing through the peephole, not really paying attention to what she saw, and jerking open the door. Horror at seeing her blond White Knight standing there had her praying she’d suddenly turned invisible. He grinned, amusement danced in those spectacular eyes. “Elizabeth Wingate?” When she stood silently, wishing she could deny her identity, he said, “Abigail told me I’d find you here.” She blinked. Abigail? Her partner had sent this perfect male specimen to see her? Had she developed a sick sense of humor? No! Oh jeez, no! She swept her gaze from that handsome face down his obviously toned chest, down his lean but muscled long legs covered by jeans that fit oh so well. Yes, it had to be the personal trainer that Abigail had vowed to find for her. With a sigh of resignation, mixed with disappointment—for what she really didn’t know, she waved him inside. “I didn’t think she’d find you so fast.” He stepped around her and she couldn’t keep from inhaling the sensual cologne he wore. He waited in the foyer for her to close the door. “We just talked about an hour ago.” “After seeing me downstairs following a life-threatening fifteen minutes of jogging around the block, you’ll probably want to reconsider this job. Or maybe you see me as a personal trainer’s definite challenge.” She crept by him, trying not to cringe with each step she took.

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It was such a relief to make it back to the sofa and collapse into the depths of the over-stuffed cushions. She gave a tiny moan of pleasure only to glance up and see him looking confused. She waved him down into a big, matching chair opposite her. “I still think this plan is a waste of time, considering how desperately out of shape I am and that you only have eight weeks to make my body perfect enough for the cruise. Abigail has vowed to handle the hair and makeup makeover chore. Oh, and helping me shop. Shop for clothing to show off the wonderful body you’re supposed to mold out of this mess I currently am.” She squeezed her eyes shut realizing she was rambling. What had happened to her in the last half hour or so? Had the adrenaline rush from attempting to jog turned her brain to mush? “Sorry. Clearly physical exhaustion makes me babble.” She looked his direction and found him studying her. Assessing the work before him no doubt. “Eight weeks?” he asked, continuing to watch her. “To guide you through a body conditioning regime? To help you shop for clothes?” “No! Abigail, the fashion queen, will help me with the clothing selection.” A tingling had gone through her when he’d mentioned the shopping matter. She’d immediately seen them going into Victoria’s Secret or Frederick’s and envisioned him picking out some really hot scraps of silk and lace that were supposed to be lingerie items. Things she’d never worn but had always had a secret desire to wear. She felt the flutters of arousal and battled them down. “Definitely NOT shopping.” He quietly studied her, slowly smiled, and then appeared to come to a decision although he didn’t share it. Instead he said, “You probably need some water, after all that physical exertion.” She narrowed her eyes when she thought he was biting down a chuckle. “I’ll get some in a while, when my legs feel up to moving again.” He didn’t laugh, but his smile widened as he stood. “Point me to the kitchen and I’ll get you a glass of water.” She did, anxious to have him out of the room, out of sight. Maybe while he was gone she could slink her way over to the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony and somehow heave herself off the twenty-first floor balcony. The world would not miss a sweaty, poorly conditioned, interior design expert. Particularly one who had so embarrassed her in front of such a hot hunk. *** Chase walked into the designer kitchen with its gleaming silver appliances and highly polished cherry wood cabinets. There wasn’t a crumb on any of the tiled countertops, not a hand towel, nothing out of place. Interior design perfection, like the foyer and living room had been. He admitted that it all looked nicely elegant and probably went along with what most people would think a designer in high demand’s home would look like. After only a few short minutes with Elizabeth, though, he had a feeling this was all for show. She hid things from the world, maybe even from herself. Like hiding what he suspected was one spectacular body beneath that baggy t-shirt. Like buying into some crazy belief that she needed to change to please someone else. He had a feeling that it wasn’t her appearance that needed the makeover. It was her self-

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confidence. And not in relation to her career. He suspected she had a great deal of confidence in her abilities to design the perfect executive’s office. He started working his way through cabinets that had an abundance of expensive china and pottery, as well as crystal stemware of all kinds. Finally he found a cabinet with somewhat casual glasses. An obviously well used plastic tumbler with a faded KState logo sat tucked at the far back. He smiled. It seemed to prove his theory that there was far more to Elizabeth Wingate than she allowed the world to see. And, oddly, he wanted to discover the “real” Elizabeth. Filling the glass with water, he thought of the time he’d wanted to take off from his hectic work schedule. Maybe this wasn’t some sunny beach, but KC would do for his little Rand R. Especially since it came with the intriguing Miss Wingate. He knew he’d have no problem playing the personal trainer role since he was a physical exercise nut. He’d just have to intercept Abigail before she located a real trainer. And he’d have to manage to fulfill the work he’d already contracted for with the local business needing his headhunting skills. But since Elizabeth would be working as well, he didn’t see any problems. Other than she might get a tad pissed if she discovered he was a fraud. He carried the glass back to the living room and found the brown-haired beauty attempting to get off the sofa. Her face was pinched in pain as she suddenly bent over to grab at her left calve. Leg cramp. He knew the signs. Within a second he had set the glass down on the dark wooden coffee table and knelt in front of her. He shoved her hands away and replaced them with his own. He worked the tightened muscle with gentle care and watched the white lines of strain ease from around her pink bow mouth. A very desirable mouth that he would definitely kiss as soon as possible. “Oh, thank you,” she groaned, slumping back against the sofa. “No problem.” He continued massaging the leg, inching down to her slender ankle and her long, slender foot. She jerked and sucked in a breath, ticklish. He grinned. “By the way, I’m Chase Sawyer.” Her brown eyes had softened at his massage and she watched him with interest. “You’ve got quite a way with your hands.” His body was starting to react to the nearness of a woman who seriously attracted him, and to touching her soft skin after he’d pushed up the leg of her sweat pants. His voice was huskier than appropriate as he said, “Yes, I do. You’ll appreciate them even more when I…when I give you a massage after a good workout.” He prayed she didn’t look down and see how hard he was now. She swallowed hard, blinking. She’d obviously thought of other uses for his hands, like he had. She gently tugged her leg free and sat up straighter. “When shall we begin? I’m a person who deals best with schedules. Will you come up with a workout schedule? Where shall we workout? There’s a physical fitness center in the building that I suppose we could use.” He smiled. “Babbling again.” Pink tinged her cheeks and he found it incredibly endearing. “How about we have dinner together later and I’ll present a basic workout schedule to you then?” She studied her clasped hands in her lap. “I suppose I should tell you that sometimes I need incentive to follow through with tasks I don’t particularly like. For

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instance going to social events that I don’t want to attend. Or starting an exercise regime.” Chase stood and went to look out her sliding doors. The woman had one seriously nice view of the Country Club Plaza area. “I could probably come up with incentives to keep you focused on the goal.” He turned her way. “Or did you have something already in mind? Something that has worked for you in the past?” She didn’t look at him, just continued studying her hands. Her cheeks had turned rosy. For a second he didn’t think she would answer, but then she said quietly, “Discipline maybe.” The word “discipline” brought thoughts of physical punishment to mind. Something he wasn’t opposed to, but he was certain she couldn’t have been hinting at that. “Could you be more specific?” “I know you’ll think this is stupid, totally politically wrong these days. But then what isn’t politically incorrect today?” She blew out a sigh and glanced up at him and then beyond him. “I grew up in a family that believed in discipline. I was spanked.” The word “spanked” came out in a near whisper and her cheeks reddened even more. Chase stared at her. Not horrified, as she seemed to think he might be. Intrigued. And turned on. Over the years he’d playfully spanked a couple of women in foreplay scenarios. The women hadn’t really liked the idea all that much after they’d done it, but it sure aroused him. The thought of a sweet bottom turned over his knee, and his hand gradually turning it a pretty shade of red… Oh, yeah, it definitely got him interested. The idea that a hot woman like Elizabeth would even remotely consider letting him spank her had his heart pounding, had his entire body excited. No, he wouldn’t mind at all applying some heat to her bottom now and then. And he sure would like to follow it up with some heat between the sheets. Or on top of the sheets. Or anywhere, anytime she’d let him make love to her. But that wasn’t what they were discussing now. “I’m fine with applying strong incentive when necessary for you to stay focused and reach your goals. I’ll come up with what I think will be the best workout schedule for your particular needs.” As she looked at him again, he added, “I’ll work you hard; count on that. I’m a strong believer in physical fitness.” “Well, you ARE a personal trainer. I’d expect as much.” She wiggled her toes and winced. “I’m not big on exertion, as you can see. At least physical exertion. I imagine I’ll balk now and then, try to get out of whatever you have planned for that day.” She looked so cute there with her baggy t-shirt covering some spectacular breasts—so he’d learned when she’d been pressed against him—and that sadly limp ponytail. He couldn’t wait to start working out with her, and to hopefully see a lot more of her body. He was getting aroused all over again and fought it down. “I fully understand the importance of staying on line to reach goals. I promise you, you WILL meet yours. And I WILL deal with any balking attempts in a manner that will encourage you not to do so again. Are we in agreement?” She hesitated a second and then nodded. “Yes.” He headed across the room and she limped after him, finally stopping to say miserably, “Tomorrow. Can you just get me the schedule tomorrow?” When he faced her, she was studying her toes. “I’m thinking about staying off my feet the rest of the day and night.”

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Glancing down he noticed for the first time little blisters on the sides of her little toes. That anyone would be so idiotic to wear shoes obviously not intended for jogging irritated him. Acting without thinking, he walked back, took hold of her arm and tugged her around until she stood facing him slightly bent over. Then he swatted her sweatscovered bottom hard several times. She squirmed and yelped, “What’s this for? Stop!” With a final swat, he let her up. He knew it couldn’t have really hurt, except her pride. She glowered at him and waited for his explanation. “That was for being stupid enough to even consider jogging in inappropriate shoes.” “You don’t think having blisters was enough punishment?” she pressed, although she stepped away from him. “Are you questioning what I did and why?” This was her chance to change her mind about the whole exercise thing, particularly about the “encouragement” part of the agreement. He didn’t want her to change her mind, but he needed to give her this out. She worried her lower lip a second and finally shook her head. “No. I still need your help.” He breathed a sigh of relief and left the apartment promising to contact her the next day. Now he needed to find that partner of hers, and see if he could do a little sweettalking. See if he could convince her to let him be the personal trainer she’d planned to find for Elizabeth.

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Chapter Two

Two hours into the workday and already Elizabeth felt stressed. Actually the stress from having just concluded the meeting with a new client and her partner was nothing in comparison to the soreness she felt sore from the ridiculous attempt at jogging yesterday. Beyond that, she could hardly keep her eyes open. Getting restful sleep had not been a part of last night’s accomplishments. No, she’d spent way too much time dreaming about her new personal trainer, who had exhausted her in the dreams. And not from anything as unpleasant as working out. “So, how you’d like Chase Sawyer?” Abigail asked as she turned back to face Elizabeth still seated at the conference room table. There was an odd look in her eyes, but Elizabeth didn’t feel up to deciphering it. She stretched her legs out under the table, trying to locate the shoes she’d kicked off during the meeting. Her poor toes still weren’t up to being confined again. Finally locating one, she managed to slide her foot inside the fashionable heel. But she couldn’t keep from wincing. “Are you all right?” Abigail looked at her in concern. “My feet are a bit tender today, after that bit of jogging yesterday.” She tried to ignore the smirk on her friend’s face and slid on the other shoe. “As to Mr. Sawyer, I believe he’ll do fine.” She just wished they would be doing something else together besides spending hours discovering new and torturous ways to bring her pain. “He certainly looks as though he knows the ins and outs of finely tuning a body.” Abigail had a dreamy expression, which Elizabeth found irritating. “You met? I thought you simply made the arrangements over the phone.” Abigail started gathering up the contract papers. “Actually, he stopped by the office late yesterday afternoon. He wanted to ask me a few questions.” She hesitated and then glanced toward Elizabeth. “I could stand some toning, too. Do you think—“ “No!” Elizabeth all but shouted. Chase Sawyer was hers. Suddenly she realized how crazy that notion was, and how curiously Abigail now looked at her. “I’d prefer to keep these training sessions private. Sorry.” As she thought about the possibility of being punished for slacking off or trying to get out of the daily routines, she definitely didn’t want her friend there. And, after his quick round of swatting her bottom yesterday, the likelihood of punishment was serious. She still had mixed feelings about that, mainly because she liked it when he touched her. Of course, she would rather not find herself over the hot stud’s knee for a spanking. She would much rather have said stud performing some more studly acts. Like sex. Yes, she imagined that sex with him would be spectacular. Before Abigail could respond the firm’s receptionist walked into the room carrying a box and smiling. “A Mr. Sawyer dropped this off while you were in the meeting, Elizabeth.” As she set the box on the table, she added with a sigh, “That man sure fills out a suit nicely.”

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Suit? For some reason Elizabeth hadn’t figured him for a suit wearing man. Being a personal trainer, she would have thought his wardrobe centered more around sweats and casual clothes, like the jeans he’d worn yesterday. She reached for the box and reminded herself that it was never wise to judge someone by what you saw. After all, she herself purposely presented a very specific image to the world. Shoving aside that thought, she pulled the lid off the box and gaped at the contents. She reached inside to slowly pull out what had to be a workout set of shortshorts and a low-necked tank top to fit a Barbie doll. Certainly not a full-sized woman like herself. Clearly she and the workout god had different ideas on an appropriate exercise wardrobe. Didn’t he remember seeing her in the over-sized t-shirt? The baggy sweat pants? She studied the miniature outfit again. Okay, maybe he DID remember her previous outfit. He just hadn’t been that impressed. Abigail practically skipped over to Elizabeth’s side and beamed in delight as she took the clothing items and examined them. “These are perfect! Your size even,” she added looking at the label on the tank top. “The two of you are obviously crazy. The poor stud’s eyesight is failing him even more than I’d thought if he thinks there is even a slight possibility that these will fit.” She snagged the pieces back and frowned when she read the label. They were her size, or so the tag claimed. Maybe they were made in some remote part of the world where size charts were vastly different. “They stretch, silly.” Abigail shook her head at Elizabeth as if it was sad to have to explain such a thing. Then she grinned in mischief. “Stud, huh? Did you two already do a bit of exercise together? Like on the bed? Something where he had a chance to really display the skills I just know he possesses?” Elizabeth felt her face flame. “No! Of course not.” She couldn’t look at Abigail, so she returned her concentration to the box. At the bottom lie a file of some kind of papers. Curious, she picked up the file and discovered a contract and a very detailed exercise schedule. Quickly scanning it, she muttered, “He’s not a workout god, but a workout demon.” She held up the schedule and protested, “He can’t really expect me to do all of this. Not in a hundred years. A thousand.” Abigail took the papers and glanced at them, smiling. “This is a progressive schedule, for the eight week period you hired him for. It’s not like he’ll expect you to do all of it tomorrow.” Elizabeth slumped in her chair, her feet reminding her of what agony they’d already suffered. “I envisioned something more along the lines of doing a few simple stretches and a little weight stuff maybe. Tiny weights. Say two to three pound weights. I’m not Swarznegger you know.” Before Abigail could respond with more than a whispery laugh the familiar voice of Chase Sawyer said from the doorway, “Honey, you’re definitely not Swarznegger, and I’m damn glad of that fact.” As the women looked his direction, he nodded toward the workout clothes. “He’d have a hell of a time getting into those.” “I’ll have a hell of a time getting into them,” Elizabeth said, definitely admiring the way his obvious designer suit fit him. Her heart rate picked up. She didn’t even need to torture herself with cardiovascular exercises. All she needed to do was look at him.

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He grinned and the laughlines she remembered appeared at the corners of his mouth. “They’ll fit you, I promise.” He glanced at his watch and turned serious. “I’ve got to get to a meeting. I just stopped back to make sure you understood that we’ll begin this program tonight. The place is up to you. Your building’s fitness center? An exercise club I know of near here? Or my place?” Elizabeth knew her friend was listening avidly, watching the byplay eagerly. If she weren’t standing there, Elizabeth might have tried to talk her way out of this agreement, out of all this useless exercise. Instead she tried to think about his choices, and suddenly remembered the Chamber Gala…and her mother’s blind date for her. “I’ve got another commitment for tonight.” Abigail slid a glance at Chase and they shared some kind of silent communication. But he distracted Elizabeth from inquiring about what was going on when he smiled at her again, his dark blue eyes shining with amusement. Her poor heart picked up speed again. “You don’t sound very excited about the commitment. Are you sure you can’t get out of it?” he asked, his tone turning sensual, alluring, promising. She put a hand to her chest. Maybe she needed to see a heart specialist. Surely it wasn’t normal to have your heart start beating itself practically to death simply by looking at someone, or at hearing his voice. When they both looked at her in concern, she dropped her hand. She should stand behind the commitment, like she always did. And then she remembered: She hadn’t been the one to make the commitment. She’d call her mother and she could call off the latest of her attempts at matchmaking. “How about my place?” she finally answered, ignoring the smirk on Abigail’s face. “Maybe in my apartment tonight. We need to start out slowly. In fact, just trying to put on these tiny clothes might be enough of a workout for today.” He flashed her the sexy, crooked mouth grin he’d favored her with yesterday. The one that sent tingles of excitement all through her, including down to areas that shouldn’t be getting excited now. “I’ll be there around six.” He turned away, but stopped to add, “If it would help any, I could assist you getting into those ‘tiny clothes.’” He didn’t wait for her response, which was a gasp…and another increase in her pulse rate. He just walked away leaving her to sigh from the pleasure of looking at him, leaving her to wish they were meeting under much more enjoyable circumstances. Abigail sat on the edge of the conference table and appeared dazed. “Are you sure I can’t come work out too?” “No.” That was the absolute only thing about all of this that Elizabeth was definite on. Chase was hers alone. *** By six Elizabeth had a headache to end all headaches. Every client believed they were number one priority. Both the receptionist and Abigail had spent a large amount of time trying to convince her that the exercise sessions for one should become sessions for three. And she’d been so stressed by all of it that she hadn’t eaten since the quick donut she’d snagged at the coffee shop on her way to work. She wanted nothing more than to 95

stretch out in her darkened bedroom and dream sweet dreams. Dreams of far off islands without phones or email. Dreams of lying on a chaise at beach side, with a tanned, nearly naked man fawning over her every need. When she envisioned Chase as that “nearly naked man,” her “every need” became much more specific…more intimate. Stepping into her entry, she tossed her purse and keys on the hall table. The box she carried was heavy with the weight of more than just exercise clothing. It was leaden due to what the clothing stood for: putting her extremely out-of-shape body through things it preferred not to experience. Maybe she should rethink this whole reunion idea. She could always go another cruise. Her stomach growled and she headed for the kitchen. Setting the box down, she went to her special cabinet and her secret stash of junk food. Okay, so the only person she was hiding this food from was her housekeeper who religiously shopped for healthy foods for her. Healthy foods such as vegetables, fruits, granola bars and frozen dinners professed to be healthy and nutritious. Mrs. Abernathy didn’t need to know that she ended up throwing most of the vegetables and fruits out after they changed life forms in the refrigerator. She didn’t need to know that Elizabeth broke the granola bars up into pieces and put them out on the balcony for the birds to eat. As for the frozen dinners, evidently “healthy and nutritious” was all a manner of interpretation. She smiled when she reached beyond the high fiber cereal boxes and found the box of Ho-Hos. Now her world would be all right. Two bites later her doorbell rang. She blew out a breath of frustration and trudged toward the door and the man who would no doubt be on the other side of it. Licking off a dab of creamy center, she opened the door. “Anxious to begin, aren’t you?” Chase slipped by her, reaching out to brush a chocolate crumb from her chin. “I hope that’s not a cupcake? Two hundred calories of almost pure sugar.” Peevishly she said, “It’s a compact meal of chocolate, which is good for the body they say, and dairy in the form of a creamy center. I’m sure the flour that makes the actual Ho-Ho is somehow good, too. It’s a plant, right? So that makes it a vegetable product, right?” He shook his head sadly, but amusement danced in the depths of his eyes. “Evidently I’ll need to do some schooling on proper nutrition along with proper exercise.” Elizabeth started to protest, and then decided it wasn’t worth the battle. Besides, he wouldn’t be around 24/7. She could still sneak a snack whenever she wanted to. So instead she went back into the kitchen and grabbed the box he’d given her earlier. That sexy little grin of his slipped into place. “Need help putting it on? There was some discussion about that earlier, if I remember right.” She clutched the box to her chest and strode toward her bedroom. “I’ve been dressing myself for years. I believe I can handle this, thank you very much.” He chuckled. “Just saying that it wouldn’t be a hardship to assist you.” Darn him. Her body heated and trembled with desire as she stripped out of her usual conservative suit. All she could think about now was WANTING him to take her clothes off, wanting him to run his hands all over body. Her naked body. And she wanted to strip him out of that sweat suit he’d shown up wearing. She tingled all over and ended up ripping a hole in the silk stockings she pulled off. Darn him, darn him, darn him.

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Five minutes later she had wriggled her way into the miniscule shorts and tank top and stood staring at herself in the mirror. The outfit looked painted on. While she wasn’t horribly overweight, she knew she could stand to lose at least ten pounds. Maybe twenty. She certainly could stand to lose that small pooch of a stomach. She turned sideways. Was that a fat roll? Okay it was small, but still… And look at those upper arms. Not flabby, but there certainly wasn’t any sign of muscle definition. She glanced down at her legs. Not bad, thank heavens. She inched closer to the cheval floor mirror and scowled. They were small and fortunately few, but there were definitely signs of, oh no, cellulite! Okay, she was NOT leaving this room. Definitely NOT in this outfit. She looked anxiously around the large room. What had she done with the sweat pants? Before she could move to the walk-in closet Chase knocked on the bedroom door. “Are you coming out soon? We really should get started.” “No!” she squeaked. “I-I—“ To her dismay, he opened the door and spotted her. She froze and completely understood how a deer felt as it stared in horror at some car about to hit it. Maybe he wasn’t about to hit her, but, almost as bad, he was seeing her in this too-revealing outfit. “I knew they’d fit.” He grinned and looked her over in clear male appreciation. Elizabeth fought back the desperate need to snatch the quilt from her bed and cover herself. But she felt a blush settling over her face. “No, they don’t fit. They show every flaw, every roll of fat, every—“ In three long steps he stood in front of her, gently tipping her chin up to look at him. “What I see is a woman who might be a tad out of condition, but mainly in her own eyes.” He bent down and kissed her, just a brief kiss but it gave her a quick cardiovascular workout. “I see a woman who is trying to avoid getting started exercising.” “Well, there is that,” she admitted. He smelled soooo good. Looked even better. And he didn’t seem to think she looked like a troll or anything. Maybe she could actually workout with him tonight in this little Barbie getup. But just tonight, tomorrow it would be back to the sweat pants and baggy t-shirt. *** “All right, now that you’re warmed up,” Chase began and glanced sideways at her from where they both had been doing floor stretches in her living room. “We need to move on to something with a little more aerobics to it. Something that will gently raise your heart rate and body temperature.” Elizabeth simply lie there and watched him. She could tell him that just looking at him was enough to do both of those things, but she decided he wasn’t on a need-to-know that basis. Hesitantly she said, “I’ve had a pretty tough day already. Can’t we just call this a good start and move on to more aerobics tomorrow?” He rolled his eyes in a manner that told her exactly what he thought about that idea. Then he did one of those throw your legs up, arch your body, and jump to your feet impossible for real people things. She gaped at him, praying he didn’t expect her to even attempt something like that.

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Wisely, he reached down a hand to help her up. “Your choices are five minutes of stair climbing. We could do that in the stairwell I spotted at the end of the hall. Or walking briskly around the block.” She thought of her poor feet and that she hadn’t yet gone shopping for appropriate footwear. “While I’d love to stroll around the block with you on this gorgeous spring night…” An eyebrow rose at the mention of “stroll,” but he did appear to remember the shoe problem. “I forgot about the sneaker issue. I’ll take care of that matter tomorrow. So I suppose for tonight we’ll just concentrate on more floor exercises.” Twenty minutes later she collapsed in the middle of her third modified push-up. The man was a sadist. They’d done curl ups with leg extensions, curl ups with side-toside rolls. They’d done spine curls and hamstring scrunches. He’d even had her doing some bizarre—and painful—standing half squats, followed by even more painful switch lunges. Her thighs hurt; her calves hurt. Even her butt hurt. “If you’re going to give up so easily tonight…” She reached over and punched him. Okay, it was a weak punch, but it was the best she could do at the moment. “You’ve got to grab hold of the notion of learning to pace yourself. Baby steps. Lead me through one exercise a night, maybe two.” She ignored the disgusted look on his handsome face. “In a week or two we can move on to that stair climbing or block walking. In a month, maybe, we can move on to hand weights. Like a pound or two.” He sat up and studied her in a way that had her thinking uh-oh. A second later he patted his lap. “I think you need some incentive before we go any further tonight.” Her buttocks clenched. “I was just kidding.” He patted his lap again. “I’m not.” Elizabeth hesitated a few seconds, but he didn’t reach for her, and he didn’t look like he’d changed his mind. Thinking of how she was a partner in a highly successful design firm, of how she was on many must-have-to-their-party lists, she found this situation very strange. A heart-stoppingly handsome man wanted her to come to him so he could give her a spanking. The idea was nuts. She thought that with every inch she moved as she crawled over to him. “You’re using up our exercise time with this nonsense.” “There’ll still be time for exercise.” He guided her across his hard thighs. “After I warm your sweet little bottom for attitude issues.” She stretched out until her legs touched the soft carpet from knee down, and until she rested her chin on her bent arms. So many emotions rolled through her: embarrassment, anticipation, and dread, even acceptance. Spankings were not new to her, although until the swat he’d given her yesterday, she hadn’t been spanked as an adult. Weird as it was, she felt oddly aroused. Chase’s hand slowly slid down her bare legs. She felt him harden against her side. She grew moist between her legs as well. It had been a long time since she’d really been attracted to a man. Her dates were almost always business related, and a lot of them arranged by her mother—as sad as that was. Very, very seldom had she gone to bed with any of her dates. And each of those experiences had been less than thrilling. No heat between them. No sizzle.

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His hand moved slowly back up her legs, stopping on her thighs. She heard his breathing deepen. She couldn’t keep from squirming from her own growing arousal. He didn’t acknowledge her reaction. She was certain that there would be definite heat, definite sizzle should they ever become intimate. Suddenly he pulled her shorts and panties down together to just below her buttocks. She immediately jerked her head around to glare at him. “Hey! That’s not necessary.” His hand raised up and she turned away before the first spank landed. “Didn’t you ever get spanked on the bare bottom?” More times than she wanted to think about. “Yes, but…” He got right down to delivering a memorable spanking. “Spankings, bare bottom. That’s just the way it is.” He tugged her wriggling body closer. “Let’s get this over with so we can get back to the workout.” The man didn’t play around when it came to leading her through exercises. He also didn’t play around when it came to giving a spanking. It didn’t go on long because, as he kindly explained, she’d only had a slightly poor attitude today. But when he released her, she scooted off his lap and rubbed her stinging bottom, until she caught him staring at her woman’s area. Then she scooted further away and jerked up her panties and shorts. “Ready to try some more modified push-ups?” he asked, totally unconcerned that she was still disgruntled about getting spanked. By the time he decided she’d had enough exercise—torture in her opinion—she wanted to kill him. Except that would take strength she didn’t have. She didn’t even see him to the door but weakly waved him good-bye. But he didn’t leave. A second later he was knocking on the door and saying he needed to talk to her. Elizabeth eased her sore body across the apartment and grudgingly opened the door. Then she was in his arms, his mouth pressed to hers in a demanding kiss. He could demand all he wanted. She’d been right. There was definitely sizzle between them. When he finally let her go, he stepped back and she watched the deep rise and fall of his chest. It made her proud clear down to her sore toes that she affected him like that. “Are we still on for tomorrow night?” he asked, sounding somewhat uncertain she really would continue with this plan. No more putting her body through experiences it appeared to hate. No more attitude issues that needed adjusting with the application of his hand to her bottom. No more seeing him… “Sure. Maybe we could even venture down to the fitness center.”

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Chapter Three Chase jogged along Brush Creek on the outer edge of the Plaza just as dawn pinkened the sky to the east. The air was still slightly cool so early on this April morning. He’d already been here a month, but it seemed so much shorter a time. What had started out to be a half joke, half serious commitment to be a personal trainer for Elizabeth Wingate had turned into so much more. His headhunting assignment had ended yesterday. He had a large list of clients eager for him to start on their needs. He should have already made flight plans and basic arrangements for a new job. But he hadn’t, and he didn’t want to just yet. Leaving KC and Lizzie, as he’d started calling her recently to annoy her, made his gut hurt. He took the path up from the side of the creek and jogged on toward 48th, toward her apartment building. Even though it was only around six thirty in the morning she’d probably be at her office. She’d been working too hard lately. He’d noticed lines of exhaustion around her eyes last night. She’d done whatever he asked of her too quietly, which was totally unlike her. If she didn’t take care of herself, she’d end up getting sick in spite of what kind of physical shape her body was now in. He thought about that shape for a second, couldn’t stop thinking about her—and her actual body condition had nothing to do with his thoughts. He was darn close to falling in love with the overstressed interior designer. He didn’t need that. Falling in love with a woman, for him, led to getting married. With his history, that soon led to divorce. No woman wanted a man who spent the better part of the year traveling from city to city, country to country. They wanted someone to share their bed, someone to share their day with, someone to have a family with. Sure, he’d started thinking maybe he’d like to slow down on his out-ofcountry jobs, and even have a family to come home to. But could he really do it? Did Lizzie even want a family? Kids? Dogs? A home with a picket fence? He came to an abrupt halt and nearly caused another jogger to run into him. Lizzie? Family? What was he thinking! Oh he knew there were sparks between them, and he certainly wanted to take her to bed and explore those sparks even more. But something serious? Between them? His cell phone rang and he thanked its timely distraction from thought paths he shouldn’t be wandering. “Chase here,” he answered, flicking on the button for his headset, and started jogging again. “Is that heavy breathing I hear? Are you trying to turn me on?” Abigail asked in a teasing tone. “Or are you out jogging at such an ungodly hour?” When he’d first heard her voice, Chase had thought he might want to get up close and personal with Elizabeth’s firebrand of a partner. Now he just liked hearing her as a friend. The only voice that captured his attention anymore belonged to Lizzie. He shook off that thought. “Jogging. So what do you want so early?” “Thought I’d tell you Elizabeth is being a pain in the patootieball again. See if you could help me out.” He couldn’t help smiling. “What’s she doing to annoy you now?” “Trying to kill herself,” Abigail grumbled. “What?” he gasped, his heart pounding in horror. “Suicide?” It didn’t seem probable, but anything was possible.

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“Huh? Oh, no! Sorry. Didn’t think before I spoke,” she countered. “She’s working too hard. Not sleeping either. And with your rigorous Olympics type workout schedule, she’s nearly dead on her feet.” Guilt swarmed over him for a second, and then anger. “I’ll take care of her, if you can take care of business.” “I’m all over the work stuff. You just get all over her.” She gasped. “Oh jeez, not physically all over her. I mean she’d probably like that, but I mean talk to her. Maybe even find a way to keep her away from the office for a day or so. Give her some tranqs or something. Make her sleep.” He smiled again, already thinking about what he could do. “You get your babbling from Lizzie?” “You actually call her that? I thought she was kidding.” “It fits her, and I do it because it annoys her. Or so she says.” “You’re a wicked man, Chase Sawyer,” she said with a giggle. “Honey, I can be a VERY wicked man.” He heard her sigh and realized he’d taken this game too far. “Anyway, I’ll take charge of the Save Lizzie From Herself mission.” *** “Where are we going?” Elizabeth asked from the front seat of Chase’s sleek black Corvette. He’d arrived at her office an hour ago and eventually managed to convince her to go out to brunch with him. But they were heading down the highway now, away from the Plaza area and the many restaurants there. He didn’t even look her way. “A place just north of the city.” Essentially he was kidnapping her, for her own good. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the time together, after he made her get some much-needed rest. “I’ve got an appointment in a couple of hours,” she protested on a yawn. The low hum of the powerful engine was lulling her toward sleep just as he’d hoped it would. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Chase glanced her direction a minute later, smiling at the gentle sound of her light snoring. He’d have to remember this and tease her about it later. She’d get all pissy, which would only make it more enjoyable. For now, he was glad her body had given in to what it desperately needed. She’d looked even worse when he’d seen her in the office than she had last night. It was definitely time for some intervention. He didn’t care if she screamed and hollered, but she was going to stay away from work for a minimum of two days. Three if he got really lucky. He’d made arrangements with an old friend to use his estate north of the city. The two of them often shared each other’s houses or apartments in various parts of the country. This place was nestled in a peaceful valley in the shallow hills. A good place to escape to, and his stubborn little executive needed an escape. *** “Where the hell are my clothes?” Elizabeth questioned on a shout as she marched barefoot down the enormous, winding marble staircase. She tugged the sheet wrapped around her tighter. She’d awakened in a strange bed, in a strange house and with a glance at a bedside clock realized she’d lost a good eight hours of the day. 101

“Is anyone here? Chase? Chase Sawyer, where the hell are you?” she demanded, ready to kick some sexy bootie. Chase stepped out of a doorway and had the nerve to smile up at her. “Obviously someone climbed out of bed on the wrong side.” She continued trudging down the stairway to march right up to him. A height difference of six or more inches meant nothing, nor did his additional poundage. She was beyond cranky, beyond amused. “A stranger’s bed,” she hissed and waved her arms around, until she nearly lost the sheet. She made a frantic grab for it. “A stranger’s house. Care to explain?” “I’m doing a good deed,” he said simply, looking intently at the sheet that had edged down far enough that her nipples were nearly exposed. She jerked up the sheet and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve gone over the edge completely, haven’t you? First your eyesight was failing you when you thought I was pretty. Then you became obsessed with working out. Plus you jog all the time. That’s just nuts. And you have a sinfully seductive car, one that puts a woman to sleep.” He grabbed hold of her shoulders and she stopped talking. “Honey, you’re babbling again.” “Your fault. You make me crazy,” she pouted. He leaned down to kiss her. And, idiot that she was, she let him. Then her bout of mad evaporated and she kissed him back. She let the sheet fall away and practically crawled up his body in her desperation to be even closer to him. She’d wanted him for days, weeks actually. It had gotten so she could hardly pull two thoughts together at work. And the nights, even after he left, were filled with him. Dreams of him. Naughty, naughty dreams of him. After a couple of minutes, he set her away and drew in a steadying breath. His gaze moved all over her, finally settling on her breasts. He was a breast man, or so he’d told her one time. She felt her nipples harden in response to his avid attention. Her breasts ached for the feel of his mouth on them. “I’m feeling way overdressed,” he said huskily. “Are we alone here?” she asked, suddenly regaining a tiny amount of common sense. She reached for the sheet and darted her gaze around the large elegant foyer. Someone had paid some major money for this place. Lots of gleaming marble, gold trim, rich mahogany, crystal chandeliers. Flashy, but not homey. Not that her apartment really was either. “All alone,” he said, distracting her from her wandering thoughts. He tugged the sheet away and she saw the way his body instantly tightened. “I wasn’t done admiring the view.” It was a bit unnerving standing there naked in front of him. Actually, she’d never stood like this in front of any man. She should feel embarrassed or worried about her body. But she didn’t. How could she feel that way when his expression was so appreciative? He reached for her and gently caressed one lucky breast. The other burned for his touch as well. “So soft. So beautiful.” She trembled and thought about how bizarre it was for her to be here like this. Excitement sparked through her. She was so far out of her element, and she loved it. This was her chance to be outrageous. With him. With the man she really had the hots for. It 102

would be so unlike her, so unlike the timid Plain Jane she was supposed to be. But, with Chase, she didn’t feel plain. She felt wanted. From the way his eyes had darkened to nearly black, to the way he couldn’t stop looking at her, to the way he still caressed her breast. He wanted her, too, and that realization made her bolder than ever before in her life. “That bed is pretty big,” she said, almost purring at the way he’d begun thumbing her nipple. “Plenty of room for exercising, some intimate exercising. If you’re interested.” Before she could melt into a puddle at his feet, she turned away and started up the stairs. She hoped that she was putting just enough sway to her hips to be seductive. Hoped she didn’t look ridiculous trying to tempt him, a man with obviously so much more experience at this kind of thing than her. A bare second later he scooped her up and she giggled as he said, “I’m all about exercise. Any kind of exercise.” *** “Have I mentioned how much I like your hair worn down? How sexy it makes you look?” Chase said, leaning over several hours later to brush Elizabeth’s soft brown hair aside and nibble at her neck. “No one has ever said that before,” Elizabeth mumbled into the pillow she hugged while lying boneless, stretched out stomach down. “Chubby, yes. Gangly, yes. Sexy…never.” Tears misted her eyes. He was so good to her, so good for her. He lightly bit her ear. “You are, though. Sexy. Hot.” He rubbed against her and showed her just how much she affected him. “There’s a heated pool out back. How about taking a swim by moonlight?” He rubbed against her once more. “Maybe try some water aerobics of a sort.” She wasn’t sure she could move. She’d been right: sex with Chase was outstanding. Exhausting, too. “Aerobics. Exercise. Evil words.” One of his large hands started playing with her bottom, moving whisper lightly around and around her buttocks. They clenched and unclenched in response. She quivered, heart raced, moisture built within her all over again. He trailed a finger between her lower cheeks and she couldn’t keep from moving back into his hand. It felt so incredible. “You’re killing me,” she admitted on a moan of pleasure. That same loving hand swatted her bare bottom with just enough force to get her attention. “No, you’ve been trying to kill yourself. Working too hard. Not sleeping. Not eating right.” He spanked her again, harder. “I don’t like it. Not at all.” Elizabeth rolled over and looked up into his suddenly serious face. “Are you really mad at me?” She hadn’t minded the swats, but she didn’t want him really upset with her. “I’ve just… I don’t know. I just have such mixed up emotions anymore. They’re making me crazy.” He gently shifted a strand of hair behind an ear and stroked her cheek. “Believe me I understand confusion.” He smoothed her cheek again. “I’ve never felt so strongly about a woman before. Or been so annoyed at times with one.” Now he was grinning. “You make me crazy.”

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She huffed, although she wasn’t all that irritated with what he’d said. “If anyone should feel annoyed, it should be me. You came into my already complicated life and demanded even more complications. You’ve had me doing all sorts of muscle torturing stretches, weird Yoga contortions, weight lifting until my arms burned.” She lightly punched him in the shoulder. “It’s you, buddy, who have been annoying. I was a perfectly content marshmallow bodied person until you came along.” “Were you really? Content?” His expression had turned serious again, a line furrowed between his thick eyebrows. Dare she admit the truth, although she suspected he already knew much of it? He already knew that she had this inner need to get in better condition if she were to attend the reunion. But he didn’t actually know about the whole “plain Jane” issue she’d dealt with all her life. And looks were only part of that issue. She’d never really felt special, at least not until she’d made a success in her career. Even now there was still a strong tendency to feel insecure, unimportant to anyone. He bent over to feather kiss her lips. When he moved away again, he said, “You haven’t answered my question.” Nerves tingled within her. He was so perfect, so confident. She could not admit her innermost failings. “Our company has more business than it can handle. I attend social functions that many only dream of attending. I’ve got an apartment in one of the city’s most elite condo buildings.” He stopped her from talking by covering her lips with a finger. “Exterior matters, all of them.” He gently put a hand on her breasts, where her pounding heart lie. “I’m talking about in there. In your heart, so to speak. Inner contentment.” “Well, no, not really,” she admitted in a whisper, tears starting to fill her eyes. She would NOT cry in front of him. She forced a smile. “Can we change the subject? Let’s get back to something more pleasant. Maybe even water aerobics…of a sort.” For a second she didn’t think he would let the subject drop, but then he slowly grinned. It was a smile that went all the way to his eyes. “Sounds great to me!” He waggled an eyebrow at her and drew her from the bed. “I’ve always wanted to try… Well, never mind. We’ll just see how it works out.” She giggled and tugged him back to her, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She’d been more physically aggressive with him than any other man. The kiss only meant as a sudden need to touch him, to taste him, quickly turned much more serious. They sank back onto the side of the bed and he seemed to put his whole being into kissing her. She lost all track of her insecurities, her inhibitions. When he settled between her thighs and his long, throbbing cock sought entrance, she spread her legs eagerly to allow it. He groaned as he thrust deep. She clasped her legs around him and moaned with the absolute pleasure of having him inside her again. She lie barely on the bed as he stood on powerful legs, his large hands massaged her breasts until they felt full, ached. Her thoughts scattered even more and she could only think about the incredible sensations his cock created within her as he pounded over and over into her. “Ohhhhh, oh Chase,” she gritted out, raising her hips off the bed, demanding his thrusts, needing them. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her climax coming. “Ohhhhhhh. Ohhhhhh.” Then she exploded all around him and lie, heart racing, sweating, content. Truly content.

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A bare second later he rammed once more and filled her with his warm juices. They hadn’t used protection this time, but she was on the pill. She decided, as she held his sweaty body to her while he recovered, that even if for some reason she became pregnant with his child, that she was okay with that. Actually, she hoped it would end up that way. Soon he would be out of her life and she would be alone once more. But not if he left her with a child. As if he’d read her thoughts, he arched up, still inside her. “We could have just made a huge mistake. You shouldn’t have enticed me like that.” She punched him in the shoulder. “You didn’t have to respond to my ‘enticement.’” It upset her that he might consider a possible baby a mistake. He grinned and pulled out of her to stand beside the bed. “Honey, I’d have to be dead not to respond to even a hint of enticement from you.” Well, that made her feel better. She yawned. The lack of sleep was really starting to catch up with her. “Sorry. I might need to pass on the pool thing for a while. Maybe tomorrow.” She yawned again, covering her mouth. “How about we just snuggle under the covers and call it a night?” His gaze was locked on her legs, her still open legs where his juices dotted her mound. She watched his chest rise and fall and his eyes darken in desire. “Forget it, buster. I’m done with that for the day, and you should be too.” She slipped off the bed and started toward the bathroom for a bit of cleanup. “I’m not saying it wasn’t good. Each and every time.” “Damn good,” he countered huskily. She’d almost closed the bathroom door when he added, “You’ve got the best ass, honey. Absolutely perfect.” Elizabeth blinked. “It’s that eyesight problem again, isn’t it? You just don’t see well enough to notice the—“ “There’s NOTHING wrong with my eyesight, Lizzie. The problem with your body is all in your mind.” He heaved a shuddery sigh. “Your body is perfect to me. Too perfect. I can’t get enough of touching it, being inside it.” She shut the door on him, leaning against it, quivering. What that man couldn’t do to her with words alone! And, oh my, what he could do with his hands, his mouth…his cock. She shivered and fought the urge to fling open the door and race across the room to tackle him.. To climb atop him and ride him long and hard. He was sitting naked on a chair near the window when she walked into the bedroom a few minutes later. He looked at her with intent, with heat. “Come here, Lizzie,” he said quietly, motioning her to him. Her heart pounded again. Exercise routines, aerobic sessions. Completely unnecessary when he was within sight. Every inch of her sizzled with awareness and curiosity. There was something on his mind, something in the heat flaming from his gaze, something that lured her closer. As she stopped in front of him, he reached out to ever so slowly slide his hands up and down the sides of her hips. His eyes darkened even more. “So soft. So lovely.” He pulled her next to him and she obeyed with eagerness for whatever he had in mind. “I’m going to spank you, honey. Not in punishment. Purely for pleasure, for both of us.” The idea seemed strange, but also intriguing. She trusted this man. Loved this man. Loved this man? She was startled by that realization as she went obediently down

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over his lap. She barely acknowledged the familiar position he’d put her in numerous times for sessions that ended with her suffering a very sore bottom. He trailed his fingers lightly in circles around her buttocks, then his palms did the same thing. “Creamy. Soft. Irresistible.” His body shuddered and his voice lowered even more. “This will be a good girl spanking. Although I see it as a lucky guy spanking.” “Will it hurt?” she asked, barely able to lie still as he continued caressing her cheeks. “Maybe in the end just a bit.” He swatted one buttock lightly, but all it did was make her squirm with yearning. It made her aware of his hand touching her, made her very aware of him. “I’m going to turn these sweet cheeks pink, slowly, gently.” One swat. Two. He reached down to spread her legs a little more. Another spank. And another. “I’m starting to see my handprint.” He trailed a finger around the print. Then he slid that same finger between her legs, down to where her bud had swollen with arousal. Elizabeth arched up to meet his hand; her clit throbbed as he toyed with it. “Chaaaase,” she said on a moan, drawing his name out with her growing desire. He went back to spanking her. Two times. Four. Slightly harder each time. “This is such a spankable bottom,” his voice was gruff with arousal. He smoothed away the tiny sting she’d felt, and spanked her again. She hadn’t thought she’d enjoy any kind of spanking, but he’d been right. This one was different. This one had her hot, all over…inside and out. She sighed, almost purred as he continued spanking her every inch of her buttocks. It didn’t hurt at all. But, oh my, the tingling felt everywhere. Well, it felt good. So much more than good. She wriggled in enjoyment. His hand came down again on her lower cheeks with just enough force that she arched upward. “So responsive, just like I knew you would be.” “Ohhhhhhh, ooooohhhhh. Chase!” She curled the pleasurable feelings into her. “I-I never thought…” Another swat and then his hand slid down between her legs again. “Ah, so my naughty lady is getting seriously turned on,” he said as a finger tunneled past her swollen lips, slid into her moist body. “Naughty, naughty lady.” He worked her until she was squirmed all over his lap, couldn’t lie still. Her inner muscles attempted to massage his thrusting finger as if it were his cock. Then he added a second finger. “Oh. Ummmmmm” She really liked that, but she’d like the feel of his cock inside her even more. Still… “You want me to finish giving your deliciously naughty girl spanking? Heat your bottom?” He pulled his fingers out, stopping to lightly pinch her swollen clit. “Then give you relief?” Relief? Yes! He was doing wonderful things to her now, but she wanted and needed more. “Anything,” she gasped, bucking up for his attentions. He smoothed her cheeks again, and then heaved a sigh that told her how much this affected him as well. Then he spanked her, over and over, not hard. He spanked her

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enough that the tingling sensation built. Enough that she felt the growing heat. Enough that she shivered and quietly begged, “Yes! Oh yes.” She gasped when he spread her legs even more and lightly spanked between them. “Uuuuhhh.” He switched back and forth between spanking her and rubbing her lips, her clit. “You need this don’t you? Want it.” Elizabeth could barely think beyond desperately longing to find that magical massive orgasm she knew he would give her. “I’ve been naughty,” she played along with his scenario, lifting up to meet the swats. “So naughty.” His breathing grew deep, hard, and she felt his hard cock next to her. But he continued landing his hand on her bottom saying huskily, “A naughty lady gets her bottom spanked. Gets her bottom turned pink, turned hot.” “Ohhhhhhh yes! Yes! Yes! Yessssss!” She collapsed having found release at last. He stopped spanking her at the same time she cried out. Then, even though she felt incredibly content, she managed to slide off his lap and go down on her knees in front of him. He deserved something special for what he’d given her. She had only done this once before and not been all that successful at it, but, with Chase, she felt confident. This time would be different. And when he looked hopefully but unsurely down at her, she vowed to give this her very best effort. “My turn,” she said quietly and took his large, pulsing cock within her hands. “So nice.” She moved her hands up and down his length and smiled as he seemed to grow even more. “You don’t have to…” “Yes, I do.” She loved looking at him in full arousal, loved holding his hard rod. Seeing his eager anticipation made her bolder. She took him in her mouth and took charge of giving him as much pleasure as he’d given her. By the time she finished with him and he slumped back against the chair, they were both exhausted. He had such a satisfied smile on his face. She’d done it. She’d actually given this very special man pleasure. But now she was too tired to really savor that honor. She yawned. He looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t totally understand. The look was something somewhere between serious and uncertain; between content and concerned. Instead of explaining his feelings, he stood and gently pulled her to her feet. His hands cupped her face and he gave her a quick, simple kiss. “Thank you.” Now she blushed. What was with that? “No problem.” He chuckled at her response and then guided her across the room. “Time you went to bed. For sleep this time. Real sleep.” “I do believe you’ve finally worn me completely out.” She crawled atop the disheveled quilt and burrowed under the covers, smiling. “That was certainly interesting. I think I like good girl/naughty girl spankings.” As he headed for the bathroom, he said in amusement, “I figured you would.” He glanced back at her. “The fun and games are over, though. Now I’m going to concentrate on making sure you get plenty of rest these few days we stay here.” She rolled over. “Few days? Impossible. I’ve got clients who—“

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“Abigail begged me to take you away. Something about you being a pain in the patootie.” He dared to grin at her, looking absolutely irresistible standing there so deliciously naked. “I’m never a pain in the patootie.” “Honey, you’re ALWAYS a pain in the patootie. It’s your claim to fame. Why I’m so fond of you.” The amusement had left his expression; something warmer replaced it in his eyes. Elizabeth sucked in a shivery breath. “Fond of me?” she whispered. After all her previous disastrous relationships with men, it was hard to hang on to the hope that had been building within her. She’d hoped there was more than just enjoying being together, even when they occasionally bickered over how much exercise was enough. She’d hoped there was more than just terrific sex between them. “What’s not to be fond of?” he teased, his tone lightening again. “Your obsession with work? Your usual resistance to all forms of exercise? Well, except down and dirty sex. You’re definitely into that, which I vastly appreciate.” She smiled and yawned again. “I appreciate you, too,” she said on a sigh, closing her eyes. She heard him disappear into the other room and took the very nice image of him with her as she settled into sleep. Her last thought was that maybe she could encourage the sex part more, turn him away from all that painful exercise stuff.

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Chapter Four Almost two weeks after their special few days away from the reality of the real world, Elizabeth faced a very unhappy looking Chase at the door to the office suite. Only an hour ago she’d told him that she would be working late all week, that she didn’t have time for the rigid exercise schedule he had her on. Her plan to ease him more toward enjoyable sex and away from painful exercise had not worked out. At all. After her statement on the phone, he’d growled in annoyance at her and she’d known the next time she saw him she’d be getting a spanking. And it wouldn’t be a “good girl” spanking. Had he come to deal with her right now? Here at the office, which thank heavens was only staffed by herself for the next hour or so? “I’m really busy,” she said by way of greeting, although she did step back so he could pass by her. “I-I told you that on the phone.” For the first time she noticed he held a briefcase. A very expensive briefcase; one that reminded her she really knew so little about him. There’d been many outward signs that he was much more than the simple personal trainer she’d believed him to be. She felt her pulse racing in her upper chest and her palms were sweating. Who or what he really was seemed irrelevant now as she watched him calmly take her wrist and lead her down the hall to her office. She’d been in similar situations growing up, when one parent or the other had taken her to her room to be spanked. She could resist Chase, should resist. Instead she followed him, her gaze locked on the mysterious briefcase. Anticipation and dread threaded through her. Halfway there he finally said, “I’m a busy person, too, Lizzie. Much more than you’ve ever given any thought to I imagine.” He tugged her into her large corner office with its gleaming and cold black and white furnishings. “I’ve put my life on hold to make this commitment to you. And I take all of my commitments seriously. Including this one.” She didn’t know how to respond. Sadly he was right: she hadn’t given his life much thought. Except for when he was with her, or when he was in her dreams. Was she really so selfish to not even have wanted to find out more about him? Or had she wanted him to be the mystery man who’d walked into her life and completely changed it? At least for a couple of months. She’d needed someone to think her special, to find her attractive…to bring out the sensual, sexual woman she’d always dreamed of being. He’d done that for her. She’d also needed someone to get her both physically and emotionally in condition to go on that cruise and face the demons of her past. He’d also done that; actually, he was still working on it for another two weeks. She hadn’t known she’d needed someone to turn her over his knee occasionally and warm her bottom when she got too lippy, when she tried to get out of something she’d promised to do, or when he just thought she needed settling down from the craziness of her work life. But, oddly enough, she had needed that as well. He set the briefcase down on her desk and opened it while she stood anxiously nearby. The sight of a pile of files and what appeared to be a business contract lie inside, surprising her, although they probably shouldn’t. But it was the foot long wooden thing

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with a slender handle and a wider flat end about two inches by four inches that caught her attention. She automatically quivered inside somehow knowing what it was. Chase lifted it out and turned to face her, his expression serious. “This is called a Little Zinger Spanking Paddle. Easy to carry, easy to use.” He looked straight into her eyes. “It delivers a definite message. A sting that will be felt long after the final swat with it.” She swallowed hard. “Did I mention how busy I am today?” She didn’t want to spend the morning squirming in her chair and trying to get comfortable. “Beginning real soon.” “I will be, too. But this is important, honey. Necessary.” He took the paddle and her arm, leading her to one of the pair of black leather chairs in front of her desk, across from the wall of windows. “Can’t we do this later?” she questioned, wondering why she hadn’t yet dug her heels into the carpet and refused to follow him. “Like next year, or next century,” she added in a near whisper. The handsome devil sat down and looked up at her with a partial smile. “Maybe we’ll do this AGAIN next year or next century.” “Stubborn man,” she said, although she held his words “next year” close to her heart. He patted his thigh, expecting her to stretch over his lap as she had too many times since she’d known him. Elizabeth stared at his hard, muscled thigh; stared at the large hand that would connect repeatedly with her bottom. Then she glanced at that awful little paddle and couldn’t help a tiny shiver passing over her. “Maybe I can squeeze in a half hour or so for exercise tonight after all.” “Too late for negotiations, Lizzie.” He patted his thigh again. “Lift that skirt and bend over. Now. I don’t have much time.” She didn’t want to do this and would be annoyed with him the rest of the day for it. Yet she sucked in a shaky breath and slipped out of the designer skirt instead of lifting it and wrinkling it. As she stood anxiously in only a lacy red thong and thigh-high stockings, her white silk blouse barely meeting the top of her buttocks, she heard his breathing quicken. Good. Let him suffer, too, if she was going to suffer. “Damn, honey,” he ground out, looking at her with eyes that had glazed over. “We could do something more interesting, more satisfying,” she said in a useless attempt to sway him from what he intended to do. She’d not once been able to change his mind after he’d decided to spank her. He shook off the spark of arousal and countered, “We could, but we won’t.” He took her hand and guided her across his lap. Elizabeth had the satisfaction of feeling him tremble as she slid into position, as she rubbed against the hardness of his cock. But that satisfaction disappeared at the breeze from the air conditioner vent blowing across her basically bare bottom. With the look in his eye when he’d told her he was going to spank her, she knew her buttocks would soon be warm. Hot, actually. He pulled her tight against him, held her down with an elbow on her upper back and a hand on the side of one buttock. He was a man ready to start his mission, and she tried to brace herself for the experience. 110

“You cut the exercise sessions shorter and shorter all last week.” Swat! “I let you, thinking the situation was only temporary.” Swat! “But it’s not.” “Chase!” Elizabeth gritted out, trying to lift up enough to look back at him. She flinched when she caught sight of his raised hand. She’d much rather have that hand doing some of the very exquisite things she knew it was capable of doing. “I have other commitments, too.” That hand remained poised for delivering another smarting swat. “Have you changed your mind about the reunion?” She couldn’t stop staring at that hand as she mulled over his question. She’d thought about changing her mind, nearly every night when her body recovered from yet another torturous workout. She’d almost called the coordinator of the event to cancel out. But then the coordinator, Miss Uppity Former Cheerleader, had called to confirm that Elizabeth still planned to attend. When she started rattling off who was coming and Elizabeth realized they were all students who had more or less shunned her, she had said that she would still be going…and bringing along her significant other. Swat! “Lizzie, have you changed your mind?” He’d started referring to her that way a month ago, and she oddly liked it, although she’d never tell him that. Swat! “Have you?” “Ow! No, I’m still going.” She didn’t add that she hoped to talk him into going with her, as her significant other. “Then I can’t let you start straying away from your goal. If you start backsliding, it’s going to get tougher and tougher for you to get in the routine again.” He spanked her decisively several times. She wriggled and sucked in a breath. “Keeping up this workout schedule is easy for you. It’s your whole life, what you do.” She squirmed as he spanked her again, and wondered if she were right. Remembering the briefcase and the contract and his expensive designer suits, she doubted it. He sat stiffly for a minute and she sensed that she’d said something to belittle him. “I didn’t mean that there is anything wrong with being a personal trainer,” she tried to apologize as she cocked her head around to look at him. “No, there isn’t. But I’m much more than that, although it doesn’t really matter.” He picked up the odd little paddle. Her heart nearly stopped. “Can’t we be done now? I’ve got to sit most of the day. Please.” She focused on the paddle, hated it already. “I don’t think so. If you were really insistent about this being too much, you’d have forced your way off my lap.” Their gazes met and she knew he was right. If she didn’t feel somewhat guilty for her recent behavior, she’d have gotten up. Resigned, she lowered her head and waited for what would happen next. “I promised to help you tone your body the way you wanted before the cruise. I promised to help you change your image. Even though I think there’s nothing wrong with your image.” He applied the paddle once. “Well, maybe it’s a bit too conservative.” “Plain Jane, I know,” she muttered, shuddering at the paddling sensation that felt like a handful of bees stinging her bottom.

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He went about giving her the paddling he felt she needed in silence. She made up for the silence by gasping out, hissing, and finally crying out as the fire built from a tiny blaze to an inferno. First chance she got, she would find that paddle and get rid of it. When he let her up, she crawled awkwardly to her feet. Her hands flew around to cover the horrible pain on her poor bottom. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she looked at him in misery. “I-I really do have to work tonight.” He was unusually quiet as he put the paddle back in his briefcase. “I’m going out of town for a couple of days. I hadn’t planned on it, but I think maybe it’s for the best.” He looked at her. “If you’re serious about continuing this exercise program, we’ll get back to it when I return. And, if you’re serious, you’ll do some floor exercises while I’m gone.” Elizabeth’s bottom throbbed; she was embarrassed at getting spanked in her office. But what really bothered her was that she might be losing him in her life. Silly thought, because they were only scheduled to work together another two weeks. She didn’t want to lose him, ever. “I might do some jogging,” she tried to give him a smile. “Might.” She rubbed her tender bottom, certain it would be difficult to sit comfortably for a few hours. Darn him. She was still comforting her bottom when he moved in front of her, when he pulled her to him and kissed the hell out of her. Just as suddenly he let her go and headed out of the office. “I’ll call you later.” *** One of the hardest things Chase had ever done was walk away from Elizabeth just now. As he left her standing half-naked and well spanked in her office, everything in him screamed for him to turn around. To go back and lay her across that classy desk and slam his body deep into hers. She’d let him do it, too. Sex was incredible between them and they both enjoyed it and craved it. Instead he clutched the handle on his briefcase tighter and planted one foot in front of another to put distance between them. He had a prosperous business and it wasn’t based in Kansas City. He had homes in several cities around the world. He had women who were always happy to be eye candy on his arm at social events, or to share his bed whenever he felt the need. Except for his recent thoughts about wanting a family of his own…like his sisters had…he’d been satisfied with his life. Basically. He heard Elizabeth moving around in her office, probably putting her skirt back on. He shuddered at the sweet memory of seeing her standing there in that scrap of a thong and stockings. The added memory of spanking her taut little bottom and turning it red hot made him stop for a second. His cock bulged within his slacks. Pulsed with need to be inside Lizzie. Only Lizzie. He knew then and there that none of those other women would ever make him feel what he did when he was around Elizabeth Wingate. Needed. She needed him for more than just for a sexual partner, although that was a part of it. But Lizzie needed him in ways neither of them fully understood. And, damn, he needed her, too. Suddenly she was behind him, gently touching his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked as he faced her.

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His gut clenched at knowing he had to leave for a short time. His heart ached at the vulnerability he saw in her eyes. He cupped her face and the touch alone hardened his cock even more. “I’ll be fine. I’ve just got some things to take care of, some business to tend to.” She turned her face in his hand until she lightly kissed his palm. “Thank you.” “For…” It would be so hard to walk out the door. Her cheeks turned pink and she glanced down. “For caring enough to come here before you left town for whatever reason. For spanking me.” She raised her head and some of her sassiness reappeared. “But I’m not thanking you for the paddling.” She rubbed her bottom. “That hurt. Really hurt.” He smiled and again he knew that he’d fallen hard for the complicated designer. “I’m sure it did. It was supposed to give you something to think about, like staying focused on the commitment you’ve made to your goal.” She rolled her eyes. “Right now it makes me think about wanting to stand instead of sitting at my desk.” Just as he was about to comment more on the spanking, Abigail opened the front door and grinned in delight at finding them together. She gave him the once over and teased, “My, my, my, Mr. Sawyer, you do look spiffy this morning.” He chuckled, even more when he saw annoyance at their interruption flash across Elizabeth’s face. Before she could stop him, he leaned down and kissed her good-bye. A long hot kiss that had his pulse racing and Abigail cheering him on. “I’ve got to go, ladies. Be good.” He walked by Abigail and glanced back at Elizabeth. “Especially you, Lizzie.” She blushed and barely stopped herself from reaching back to rub her tender bottom. “You’ll call me later?” she asked, sounding uncertain. He nodded and finally forced himself to walk out and close the door behind him. *** Elizabeth had told herself all day long that she would rebel against Chase’s instructions to exercise tonight. She’d squirmed for half the morning on her chair, especially struggled to sit still during a conference meeting with a new client and Abigail. Her friend had kept looking at her in curiosity, but she could not explain her discomfort. She could not admit to her that the man Elizabeth had fallen deeply in love with had spanked and then paddled her earlier. Yet as she walked into her bedroom after a late dinner meeting with yet another new client, she found herself reaching for the exercise clothes Chase had bought her. They still looked small enough for a Barbie doll. Somehow they magically stretched to cover her. And the last time she’d looked at herself in the mirror, she’d discovered they didn’t reveal a tummy roll any more. She was actually getting fit and, for the most part, she had more energy. Ten minutes later she turned on her stereo in the living room to get ready for some of the dreaded floor exercises Chase had taught her. Chase. She strolled over to the sliding doors and looked out at the sunset. Where had he gone? Why? Why didn’t she know more about him? It wasn’t the first time that she felt he was more a mystery than she’d even imagined. She realized that she hadn’t pressed him because she hadn’t wanted 113

to upset anything between them. She didn’t want to take a chance on somehow making him leave her permanently. She clutched her nervous stomach. There was no permanence between them. She had two more weeks with him as her personal trainer before she left for that dreaded cruise. She wished with all her heart that he could go with her as the significant other she’d lied about taking along. But she couldn’t ask him to go. That went way beyond what he’d agreed to do for her, and she couldn’t bear it if he turned her down. No, it was better to finish their commitment and then find a way to survive yet another broken heart. Forcing away the distressing thoughts, she focused on her favorite Jimmy Buffet cd and stepped back into the room. She started stretching with some of the Yoga movements Chase had shown her. A few weeks ago they’d seem awkward, painful. Now she could actually do the standing poses without losing her balance and falling over. She could even stay in position what he claimed was the proper length of time. She’d come a long way, and she was proud of herself. Shifting into the standing forward bend with both hands touching the floor, she knew that Chase had helped her find confidence in herself in more ways than just physical conditioning. Because he saw her as a beautiful woman on more than just the outside, she’d begun to accept that maybe she was. Her father’s “plain Jane” label still came to mind every once in a while, but it didn’t hurt anymore. Actually, it made her smile. He hadn’t known her at all. She remained in position and raised her right leg behind her until it was parallel to the floor. Neither Chase nor Abigail knew it yet, but Elizabeth had even gone clothes shopping on her own. She’d purchased an entire new wardrobe of suits that fit more closely, of dresses that hugged her curves and some that were softly flowing and made her feel extremely feminine. She’d even bought her first bikini. She would wear it, too, on the cruise, although it wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable as if Chase were there to see her in it. A tear trickled down her cheek. Chase. She missed him already. She could only imagine how badly she’d miss him when he was really out of her life. Across the room her phone rang, startling her, making her lose her balance. She managed to keep from falling clumsily to the carpet and hurry to pick it up. Breathless, she said, “Elizabeth.” “Are you all right?” Chase had immediately picked up on her breathlessness. She smiled clear down to her toes. “I’m fine. Believe it or not, I was actually exercising. On my own.” “I’m so proud of you.” He sounded it too, which made her smile even more. Until he added in a teasing tone, “I guess that little spanking this morning did some good after all.” She snorted. “You couldn’t just drop it at ‘I’m proud of you’?” “I bet your cheeks are pink now just talking about what happened.” He blew out a breath that she could hear. “Wish I could see them.” “They’re NOT pink any longer. That went away hours ago, even the marks from that awful paddle.” She was getting annoyed with him, but she didn’t want him to hang up.

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He chuckled. “I wasn’t talking about your sweet little bottom, Lizzie. I meant your facial cheeks. They always turn pink in embarrassment when we talk about spankings.” Now those cheeks were flaming and he couldn’t even see them. “Oh.” His tone turned serious. “Actually I was calling because I’ve run into a problem. I’m not going to be able to get back to Kansas City for at least a week. Maybe not even until after you leave for your cruise.” Elizabeth walked in depression back across the living room and dropped heavily onto the sofa. So it was over now? Whatever had been happening between them was over already? She hurt. Everywhere. Especially around the heart. “I haven’t paid you yet,” she said quietly, swallowing hard. “Where…where shall I send your check?” “Don’t you even want to know what is keeping me from coming back? Damn, Lizzie, you don’t know ANYTHING about who I really am!” He sounded so frustrated, mad even. “It’s not my place to pry. I hired you to do a job, and you did it.” She forced a lightness to her tone. “I even bought a killer bikini for the cruise, and it fits.” “Elizabeth, I’m NOT a personal trainer. I never was,” he stated gruffly. “It was all a mistake. One that I allowed to happen, and one that I enjoyed living out.” She sat up abruptly. “Not a personal trainer?” Oddly though she didn’t care about that, he’d done a great job as a pretend trainer. Still… “You-you lied to me? From the beginning?” “I never meant to hurt you. Never. You mistook me for someone else, and I was intrigued by the idea of working with you.” She felt betrayed, hurt. Tears filled her eyes. She loved him, but she didn’t know him. Had never known him. “Why were you really here that day then?” “I’d arrived in town a day early and just wanted to come by and meet you. Your mother—“ Elizabeth groaned miserably and cut him off. “You were mother’s arranged blind date, weren’t you? The poor sap she found to take her hopeless daughter to yet another social event I didn’t want to attend?” “Lizzie—“ “No! You lied to me.” She sniffled, feeling the tears trailing down her cheeks. “You must have been laughing at me the entire time.” She sucked in a steadying breath. “Well, you got out of that little blind date chore. And you’ve had your laughs over trying to turn a plain Jane into something else. You’ve probably gone home night after night and had yourself a good laugh about the idiot woman who was so pitiful that she had to hire a personal trainer.” “Elizabeth—“ Now she was in full fury, remembering their intimate moments. “At least you got some kind of physical satisfaction every now and then, some compensation for doing a good deed. Well, the sex was good while it lasted. But now you can find someone else to f—“ She couldn’t say the word, it hurt too much to think it. To think how much she’d enjoyed being with him and he’d been with her because of a huge lie.

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Before he could say anything else, she hung up. When the phone rang again, she stomped across the room and unplugged it. Then she unplugged the three other extensions as well.

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Chapter Five

Elizabeth lugged her carry-on up the ramp on the side of the massive ship currently docked in Fort Lauderdale. Her stomach fluttered was those damn moths again. She felt out of place here surrounded by smiling couples, laughter, pure pleasure in anticipation of this eight-day cruise to the Caribbean. Why had she let Abigail talk her into standing behind her plan to attend this reunion? She didn’t know these people anymore. They meant squat in her life now. Only two people really mattered to her: Abigail and Chase. Chase, the rat. She forced a return smile for the steward asking to take her picture as she boarded. Fine. Let him break his camera by taking her photo. She bobbed her head in acknowledgment as he quickly explained how she could purchase it later. Right. Like she wanted a photo of her wearing a ridiculously short sundress—Why had she bought it? Oh yeah, for that crumb Chase Sawyer who wouldn’t even be here—and with her hair flying all around her face. All the other photos to be sold later in the gift shop would be of couples wrapped around each other, grinning sappily in delight. Couples here on little romantic get-aways. Her chest pinched and tears threatened to fill her eyes. Enough so that the next steward to greet her as she stepped inside the hull of the ship asked, “Are you all right, ma’am?” She blinked and forced another weak smile. “Something blew into my contact. Not to worry.” Then she hurried on her way as if she knew exactly where she was headed. A half hour later she managed to trail after yet another of the uniformed stewards down a long hallway of the Panorama Deck, level eight. She’d tried several times to tell the middle-aged man that she had a confirmation for an inside room on one of the lower decks, but the man evidently had a hearing problem. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t have loved staying on this level, loved staying in a suite rather than the tiny room she’d ended up reserving. But she’d been told there was nothing available on this level. He finally stopped in front of one of the end cabins and swept open the door to reveal heaven on a ship. The room—suite, as he called it—was huge with a seating area, an entertainment area, a walk-in closet, and an enormous bed even bigger than a kingsized one. A realization that made her miserable all over again. Why would a single, jilted woman like her need a bed obviously meant for serious playtime with a passionate lover? “It’s beautiful,” she interrupted the steward’s listing of the suite’s amenities. “But this suite can’t be mine. You’re just going to have to check with someone. This has to be a huge mistake.” The steward pulled out a handheld computer device of some kind, punched in some quick things, and looked up at her as if she were an idiot. “This suite is definitely yours. It was reserved two weeks ago, although I can’t imagine HOW you managed to get it at that late of a date. We’ve been booked for this cruise for months.” 117

Two weeks ago? She’d made her reservation several months ago. Something was fishy, and not just the vast ocean the ship sat in. Abigail? Had she done this? Why? But she couldn’t imagine anyone else doing this, because no one else even knew what ship she’d be on. Well, she’d deal with Abigail later. “I still think this is a huge mistake, but right now I’m too tired to care,” she stated, looking by the steward at the comfortable-looking chair in front of the sliding door leading to the private balcony. Collapsing for an hour or so seemed like a good plan for the moment. Or at least resting for a few minutes until the real person who had reserved the suite came and kicked her out. The man stepped back so she could walk into the suite. A suite she now noticed that had several vases of exquisite pink roses scattered around, with a single pink rose resting on the bed. Her stomach twisted as she remembered the one time she’d told Chase that pink roses were her favorite flower. She’d been sure he hadn’t really heard her at the time, absorbed in jogging as he’d been. She shook off the bizarre thought. Of course this had nothing to do with Chase. He was who knew where—she’d never actually asked where he was when he’d called— doing who knew what with… well, who knew. “This HAS to be a mistake,” she faced the steward, heart pounding. This was a romantic setting, not something for probably the only woman traveling by herself on this particular cruise. A romantic setting that made her miss the man who’d admitted he’d been little more than a lie in her life two weeks ago. A man who’d called a few times while he’d been away somewhere, but their conversations had been awkward—at least on her end. She’d hurt too much at his sudden admission of having lied to her to talk to him. “I CANNOT stay here. No way. Absolutely NO way!” *** Chase was more than a little upset with Elizabeth by the time he finally made it on board the Cruisale Funtime ship in Fort Lauderdale. He’d ended up not getting back to Kansas City until two days ago. They’d talked by phone a few times while he’d been in Los Angeles taking care of a personnel problem at his office there. Not real conversations, she’d maintained a distance that frustrated him. His admitting his wrongful impersonation of her personal trainer had hurt her, deeply. He hated himself for that. She’d started sounding more distant every time he talked to her, which had really worried him. So he’d hurried back to KC as soon as he could manage it, but she’d carefully dodged seeing him there. This was his last shot at making up for everything, his last chance at finding peace in his life. Tugging his computer bag up into a better shoulder position, he looked at the sign in the middle stairway. Panorama Deck, level 8. Elevator time. Racing through terminals due to late connecting flights had left him too tired to take the stairs, although that was only part of his reason for wanting to get there faster. He could hardly wait to finally see the woman who had won his heart two months ago. The woman who now appeared determined to aggravate him. This trying to avoid him, when he knew she missed him as well—at least according to Abigail, was going to stop. Real damn quick. He’d no sooner found his way to their suite than he heard Elizabeth arguing with one of the cabin stewards. She was definitely frustrated, and definitely beautiful when 118

flustered. He’d always thought it unbelievable and silly when someone claimed that his heart ached just at seeing someone. But his did. Actually, he ached all over. With longing, such intense longing. He planned to strip her out of that sexy little sundress— Lizzie in a sundress?—as soon as possible. Then he’d toss her down on the bed, even the floor, and sink deep into her. Yeah, he needed that real bad. “This is NOT my room and I refuse to stay here,” she said, huffing and stamping her foot, pulling him from more pleasant thoughts. Obviously she’d been arguing for a while with the man working hard to maintain a smile. “But, ma’am, I’ve already explained—“ the uniformed steward began, equally frustrated. Chase walked up behind Elizabeth and calmly said, “You’re right, honey. This isn’t the room you had originally booked. But this is the suite you’re staying in now. The one I requested a couple of weeks ago.” “Chase,” she gasped on a whisper, her eyes wide in surprise…and delight. Pleasure for all of two seconds, before she frowned and pressed snippily, “What are you doing here?” “I’ll take things from here.” Chase handed the other man a tip and the man practically raced away in relief. “I don’t understand.” The frown was still there, but her tone hinted at hopefulness. Her eyes, though, mirrored a vulnerability that cut him. He guided her into the extra-large suite with a hand at her lower back. Even that mere touch had him growing harder, growing more anxious to be with her. Intimately be with her. She stopped and stood rigidly while he glanced around the room. Perfect, just as he’d been told. He’d wanted somewhere special, somewhere private where he could finally have a serious talk with her. He’d wanted a comfortable room with plenty of space for some hot, private time. This suite with its separate sitting area, private balcony, and king-size bed would do the job just fine. It was everything he’d wanted for them during this long cruise to the southern Caribbean. He smiled to himself, already spotting places he’d like to make love to Lizzie. “If you’d rather not stay here with me… “ He decided to test the waters, so to speak, although he had no intention of going anywhere else and he certainly wouldn’t let her go elsewhere either. Her gaze flew to him. “I’ll stay,” she said quickly, and he relaxed a little. She drew in a breath and asked again, “But why are you here? How’d you arrange this?” “Abigail helped me make the arrangements.” When she looked annoyed at that, he added, “She wasn’t really going behind your back, Lizzie. I would have done it myself, but my business in LA was a mess for a week. My manager at that office quit out of the blue. The staff was uncertain about their jobs. Clients were concerned with their needs not going to be met. I worked almost 24/7 to get everything settled down again.” He set his computer case down and closed the door. She stood quietly watching him as he stepped toward her, and then touched her face as he’d yearned to do since he’d last seen her. “I worked damn hard, Lizzie, just so I could be sure and make this cruise with you. Abigail was just acting the friend to both of us.”

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The irritation seemed to melt right out of her, and she kissed his palm, making his pulse race. “I’ve missed you. Really missed you.” He grinned. “Even though you’ve made me pretty crazy these last few days by avoiding me.” She had the grace to blush. “Okay, I was slightly PO’d at you. Still am.” She looked pointedly at him. “Are we going to have a real discussion soon? One where you tell me about who you really are, what you really do?” Some of his frustration with her crept back into his thoughts. He stepped back. “You know, Elizabeth, you’ve been behaving very badly ever since I left. You’ve been civil on the phone, but barely. Pouting.” She shifted uncomfortably but didn’t respond otherwise, and that confirmed he’d nailed her reaction perfectly. He narrowed his eyes in a stern manner, one that he thought she might be expecting. “Then when I came all the way back to Kansas City just to see you, you strategically avoided me. Not very mature. If you really didn’t want to see me again, you should have just told me so.” “I-I…” “Abigail told me you’ve been cranky, working too hard again, not exercising.” “Why do you care anyway?” she pressed, sounding snippy again. “You were hired to do a job, which you didn’t even complete. You seduced me, used me, and disappeared. Like every other man I’ve ever started to get interested in.” She spun away and strode toward the balcony. Chase knew they wouldn’t be able to talk reasonably until he took care of her attitude. “Turn on the TV, Lizzie.” She spun to gape at him. “You want to watch television now?” “Of course not. I hardly ever watch TV.” He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and saw her stiffen as she understood his plan. “The TV will cover up the sound of the spanking you need.” “I’m on a cruise. I’m here for enjoyment, dammit!” She stomped her foot and he scowled. “You’re here uninvited, and now you’re wanting to ruin my first day on the ship.” He stood, as if he would leave the cabin, which, of course, he wouldn’t. Her eyes widened in panic. “No! I don’t want you to leave,” she gasped, moving quickly to turn on the TV and face him again. “If you’ve got to spank me, okay. Do it. But please don’t leave again.” Chase sat back down, relieved. She walked hesitantly to his side, drew in a breath, and then draped herself over his knee. This wasn’t at all what he’d intended to do when they were finally alone together, but it seemed necessary. For both of them. A way to release the frustration they’d both been feeling. He nudged her into the position he wanted and then shoved her skirt over her back. She trembled as he slid his fingers into her panties and tugged them to mid-thigh. “Do you know why you’re being spanked, Lizzie?” he asked, delivering three quick swats that left handprints on her creamy buttocks. She hissed and said, “Attitude issues, I suppose.” “Mainly, yes.” He settled into turning her sweet bottom red with steady swats to every part of her cheeks. She wriggled and kicked her legs up every once in a while, but she remained in place.

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“You’re taking this spanking very well, honey.” He spanked her another dozen times, harder. His hand stung now, but no more than her bottom did. “You lied to me. I-I thought… You lied to me,” she said on a miserable cry, squirming as he continued burning her bottom. “Owwww! Ohhh please… I’m sorry. I-I just missed you.” Two more firm, memorable swats and he stopped. He smoothed his hand on her tender bottom listening to her quiet sobs. “I didn’t want to tell you that way. It just came out in my frustration.” He set her on her feet and she winced as the skirt touched her stinging bottom. She looked at him uncertainly and he realized they both still needed more time to adjust to the complicated feelings between them. He nodded toward the corner next to the long vanity. “Half hour. Hold your skirt up, keep the panties down. I want to see that red bottom, while you think about the real reason I spanked you.” For a second she just stood there, rebellious, puzzled. Then she obeyed him, moving to stand where he’d ordered, rolling up her skirt and holding it in front of her. He followed her to the corner and gently tipped her head down until the top of it touched the wall. She trembled and sniffled as her punished bottom thrust out at him. His voice was husky with desire as he forced himself to walk away, “A half hour.” *** Elizabeth stood in the corner miserable with a burning bottom, miserable with uncertainty. She’d been beyond thrilled to see him at the cabin door, although she’d worked hard not to show it. When the steward had left, she’d been torn between wanting to pounce on Chase and make wild love to him or wanting to protect herself with some kind of distance. Then he’d decided to spank her. Spank her! She shifted uncomfortably, but she didn’t reach back to rub her throbbing bottom. He’d said he’d missed her and planned this special get away together in this beautiful suite. And yet he’d taken her over his knee and spanked her. She should be angry at him for treating her like that, for hurting her. But he hadn’t hurt her really, not the kind of hurt that mattered. He’d simply taken out some of his frustration with her moody attitude in a way that seemed to work best for both of them. She’d come to accept that now and then she DID need to have her bottom burned. By him. Only by him. “Okay, Lizzie, you can lie down on the bed now,” she heard Chase say, and she knew it hadn’t been thirty minutes. “Take your dress off, too.” She turned to face him and found him already undressed, lying on the bed. His pupils had dilated and he watched her with obvious longing. His cock was already long, already hard, ready for her. “I’m sorry for everything,” she said quietly, pulling off her dress, slipping out of her panties and shoes. Her fingers trembled as she removed her bra and felt him watching her, knew he was waiting for her. “It doesn’t really matter whether or not you’re a personal trainer.” He pulled her closer as she stretched out on the bed beside him. His hand smoothed over her still tender bottom. “Have I ever mentioned how sexy you look with a

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red bottom?” He lightly swatted it, smiling as she winced. “Of course I think you’re sexy any way, any time.” Elizabeth didn’t really mind having his hand caressing her bottom, even lightly spanking it. She was just happy to be with him. In her delight, she took hold of his cock and began playing with it. Began moving her hand up and down its length. He stiffened and she worked him some more, worked him until he started groaning. “Inside you,” he grunted. “I need to be inside you. Now.” “I need you, too,” she gasped, anticipation tingling all through her. She started to roll onto her back, but he turned her onto her stomach. Chase moved behind her, grabbed a pillow. “Lift up.” When she obeyed, he shoved it under her. Then he spread her legs, shifted between them, and rammed deep inside her already wet and ready body. It didn’t take them long to reach the explosion they’d both needed. He thrust hard a final time and groaned out her name. She pushed back to meet the thrust, moaning as well. *** The moon was shining brightly, mirrored on the dark ocean, as Elizabeth snuggled in Chase’s embrace on their private balcony. After they’d made love, they’d fallen asleep. When they’d finally awakened, Chase had requested wine and cheese from their steward. He hadn’t wanted them to leave the cabin just yet. And she hadn’t wanted to go either. “Marry me,” he said, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence between them. She sucked in a breath and he mistook the response for something other than the unbelievable happiness she’d felt. He released her and started to step away, saying, “I shouldn’t have said that.” Elizabeth spun to glare at him. “Why? Because you didn’t mean it? Or because I didn’t immediately yell YES?” She waited anxiously for his answer. It still stunned her that he’d said it. But she desperately wanted him to actually mean the words. “I’ve been married before, Lizzie. Twice.” He stared out at the rippling waves as the ship slowly moved through the water. “Neither marriage ended well. Because of me. They wanted more than I could give. They wanted babies.” Everything in her felt frozen, not at his admission, but that he was finally telling her about himself. She was scared to death that she’d say the wrong thing. That she’d say something to take back those two special words. “With my first wife, we were just out of high school. Never should have gotten married.” He closed his eyes. “With my second wife, she only wanted my money and children. But she wanted children in the misguided belief that they would tie me to her. She didn’t love me, had never loved me really.” Elizabeth decided to open up a little as well, hoping it would comfort him in some way. “I was a disappointment to my father. Chubby as a young child, gangly as a teenager. A bookworm and kind of a loner, but not really by choice. The other kids didn’t include me in anything and I didn’t have the self-confidence to try and make them include me.” She leaned on the railing, remembering. “My father always called me Plain

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Jane. Some kids heard him say it once, and then they started taunting me with the name. No one has ever really liked me, except Abby. No one has ever loved me.” He drew her into his arms, crushing her to him. “You’re NOT a Plain Jane. And someone does love you, Lizzie. I love you.” She cuddled into him, afraid to look at him. “Really?” He kissed the top of her head. “With all my heart.” Then he forced her to look up into his searching gaze. “But can you love a man who has failed at marriage twice? Who maybe will never have a real clue about how to make a woman happy for the long haul?” Feeling daring, feeling incredibly delirious with happiness, she teased, “Hmmmm, let me think.” When he stiffened, she punched him lightly in the arm. “Kidding. I don’t need time to think about anything, other than figuring out how soon we can get married.” “The fact that I’m not a personal trainer, that I’ve actually got a lot of money. A LOT of money. That I’ve got a business that makes me travel a large part of the year, although I plan to stop some of the traveling—“ She covered his lips with a finger. “Babbling.” She giggled and hugged him. “Guess that’s contagious.” He nibbled her finger. “I’m not actually a personal trainer, just like I told you, but I WILL insist on you exercising regularly. Your health is important to me, Lizzie.” “Can we combine your view of aerobic exercise with mine?” She nodded inside toward the bed. “Mine is definitely more fun.” He reached around to lightly swat her bottom. “We’ll compromise. We’ll do both. Maybe less jogging and more sheet wrinkling. But you’re definitely going to master Yoga and floor exercises. Can you live with that?” She nestled against him. “Since I can’t live without you, I guess I’ll have to live with your demands.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her back into the room, tossing her on the bed. “Okay, I demand you let me seal our agreement to marry by making love to you. By—“ “Such a talker,” she interrupted, tugging off the see-through teddy she’d been wearing. “Less talk, lover, more action.” His boxer shorts slid off his muscular body and she sighed, before lying back and raising her arms to motion him closer. “Slide inside and I’ll give you my answer.” This time it was Chase who obeyed, shifting her legs apart and thrusting deep within her. He rammed hard another time and stopped to look at her. “I’m waiting.” “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you Chase Sawyer.” She purred as he started pumping again. “Definitely yes.”

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Also by Starla Kaye from Blushing Books Ranch Christmas ISBN: 978-1-935152-60-6 What`s better than sexy spankings and hot sex? Sexy spankings and hot sex for CHRISTMAS! Get three of Starla`s great novellas in one discounted three pack. In Mistletoe and Holly, Holly Peterson had been humiliated a year ago on Christmas Eve by her ex-fiancé, who considered her only a "passable" choice as a wife— while intending to keep his lover on the side. She walked away that night; certain she`d never love again, and never celebrate Christmas again. Brandon McNamara was in desperate need of a highly skilled personal assistant to replace the one who`d eloped and moved without giving notice. He needed someone prepared to work with a successful, demanding businessman like him. Someone to come in and immediately handle the planning details of the company`s annual Christmas party. Holly was in no way qualified, but there was just something about the spirited young woman who had him hiring her. He did warn her that he expected a lot of hard work from her. As sanity hit him that he`d just hired the totally wrong person for the job, he added that there would be serious consequences should she not obey and comply with all of his orders. He hadn`t exactly SAID he meant spanking, but he did. She took the job anyway…heaven help them both. In Bah Humbug Cowboy, Lacey McAdams had returned home unexpectedly during an early December snowstorm after being gone longer than she`d planned. To her horror, she found her handsome husband with his arms around her best friend, kissing her. Her world shattered. When he`d miserably tried to explain that they`d been worried about her and had only sought comfort in a stupid moment, she refused to listen to him. In her heart, she believed him. But she wasn`t sure she could ever forgive either of them, or forgive herself for being away from home so often and so long. Maybe their marriage just wasn`t meant to be. Devlin had been horrified to discover his arms around another woman, kissing her when his precious wife walked into their kitchen. He`d missed her so damn much. He`d never meant to touch her friend. There always had been and always would be only one woman for him, his fiery Lacey Jane. Numbness spread through him when she wouldn`t accept his gut-deep apology, when she drove away from him into the snowstorm. This could not be the end of them. He would do whatever necessary to make things right again. Trouble was his wife could be pretty stubborn at times, unreasonable, too. But she`d accept his apology and his forever kind of love, even if he had to burn her butt to make her think clearly. And he aimed to have her back with him permanently by Christmas. In Santa Wears Spurs, Roxie Evans had left California, her wealthy but distant family, and a former fiance who`d turned out to be Very Mr. Wrong. She`d moved halfway across the country to begin a new life as a librarian and try to find a happilyever-after kind of man. What she found was a cowboy with a reputation as the best sweet-talker in the state. They had nothing in common, except an attraction that took them both by surprise. When he approached her to be Santa`s helper this year at the ranchers association`s Christmas party, she`d teased him about what he was prepared to 124

offer her in exchange for saying yes. He mentioned several possible enticements: one was taking her over his knee and encouraging her agreement by warming her bottom; another was offering to be her love slave. Both suggestions were not really serious ones. Until Roxie decided to call his bluff and accepted the love slave offer, thinking her acceptance not serious either. But as it turned out, he was serious. Love slave? Well, hell, who was he to turn down such an opportunity! Dexter Malone could certainly do his civic duty by acting as Santa, and as offering his body to the pretty new woman in town. `Course he figured they`d really only have a night or two of some mutually agreed upon fun. Then he`d go his way, as usual, and she would go hers. He sure hadn`t counted on losing his heart to a woman who enjoyed sex, sensual fun, and a playful spanking as much as he did. He also hadn`t counted on having to spank her for real. Hawke's Lady: ISBN: 978-1-935152-58-3 When Lady Sabrina Whitley had snuck on board the nearly deserted ship in the secluded alcove, she`d been desperate to escape her father. All her life she`d been in some kind of trouble, but stowing away on a pirate ship may prove to be her biggest mistake yet. She withstood being discovered by the crew, and then soundly dealt with by the captain. Her father hadn`t broken her spirit and neither would the infamous Pirate Hawke. She would survive; she would get away somehow. She would belong to no man . . . .Hawke couldn`t believe that a young woman had dared to hide on his ship. Yet he understood desperation and knew only that would have made her take such a dangerous chance. He should toss her overboard, give her to his crew, anything to stay away from the sassy miss who dared challenge him. But as she bravely took her rightful punishment and then fairly burst into flames when he took her, he knew he would never let her go. She belonged to him. Forever. If You Loved Me: ISBN: 978-1-935152-14-9 Caitlan Curran MacDonnell`s life is a disaster. Forced into marriage at eighteen to a man she never met, at twenty-one she`s told the marriage is to be annuled. Only problem: Now her brother wants to force her to marry someone else. She`s had enough. She has dreams of her own and they don`t include an enormous handsome Scot OR a disgusting old man. It`s time to find her "husband" from whom she was separated after her wedding night and get on with her life. Just when Mac is getting on with HIS life, his sassy young bride shows up. He`d been told she`d died, yet there she is, willful and independent as ever, demanding an annulment so she can go off to San Fransisco to be a photographer. That might be want she WANTS, but what she needs is a man to keep her in line. And Mac MacDonnell knows someone who will fill the bill nicely... Remember, visit us on the web at BlushingBooks.com

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