Euphemia Lane had a feeling from the get go that Samuel Jordon was going to give her trouble. In his rude letter, he threatened to spank and disarm her should she show up in Seattle with her pistols. However, his warning doesn’t deter Effie from her mission. Come hell or high water, she and Grace are determined to travel to Seattle to rescue their friend, Amelia. How was she to know that Amelia’s letter was a huge mistake or that Horace Remington would follow them and nearly kill her? And there was no way she could have anticipated what would happen once she and Grace arrive at the Jordon home.
Never would she have imagined that she would receive her very first spanking at the hands of her nemesis. It was galling to say the least, and to top it all off, he relieved her of her pistols after she destroyed a treasured family heirloom and shot Horace. Now she is in Sam’s protective custody until the Marshal determines she had acted in self-defense. The problem seems to be: who is going to protect her from Sam?
Samuel Jordon is so angry when Marshal Cole Hadley sticks him with Miss Lane that he sees stars. In his opinion, she is a sassy-mouthed witch hiding in a sweet little body. His determination to be firm yet detached lasts all of two days. Who knew one little drop of frosting on one luscious lip would change his life forever? What kind of young woman can turn a well-balanced, confirmed bachelor into a perverted fiend who can't keep his hands off her?
"I am not going to be sent to bed like a child," she screeched as she tried to slip by him.
Sighing, Sam swept her into his arms and marched across the room. Depositing her on the bed, he leaned over her, an arm on each side of her shoulders.
"Allow me to rephrase my request," he ground out. "Either Ophelia may come and assist you out of your dress so you may sleep or I shall do it myself. If I do it, you may be sure you will cry yourself to sleep on your tummy. Do you understand my meaning?"
Sam watched the color drain from her face and quickly return with a vibrant and angry blush. Her breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath, but he held his ground, staring into her brown eyes until she replied.
"You have me at a disadvantage, temporarily, Mr. Jordon. Trust me; it will not always be so. You would not be nearly so self-assured if I had my weapons at my disposal," she hissed in defiance.
"No, trust me, Miss Lane. You will not have access to those weapons as long as you are in this house and under my authority. Should you manage to get your hands on a gun, you’d better shoot me dead because you will rue the day you ever laid eyes on a deadly weapon."
"It will be my pleasure," she said with a brilliant smile as she watched his face darken. "Send Ophelia to me and get out of my room. I've decided I would like to take a short rest."
"A wise decision, Effie," he drawled as he stood.
"I hope you shall make a similarly wise one when the time comes, Mr. Jordon. I find I quite like your mother and would be saddened to shoot her son, for her sake you understand."
"So you like my mother. Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Sam said pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.
"Have you a headache, Mr. Jordon?" Effie asked, delightedly.
"Only one, Miss Lane, only one," he replied as he left the room.