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Captain Bill had no more time to think about the wayward wench on board his ship. The storm was a fearsome one, and every member of his crew on duty, including him, had their part to play in preventing a disaster. Mountainous waves dumped themselves onto the deck with shocking ferocity, showering the men with water. Even seasoned old hands were struggling under the conditions, working as best they could as the wind howled and roared all around them, like a terrifying beast from the underworld.

Bill assessed the damage to his ship thus far. One of the main sails had been torn by the sudden strong winds’ ferocity, and had been lowered quickly for repair. Others had been tied before the wind could do further damage, but that hadn’t been enough to save the top sections of the main and mizzen masts.

“’Tis blowing us off course, Cap’n!” shouted Midshipman Bellows from the wheel.

“I love you but I will not put up with your sassy behavior and impudent tongue.”

“If you love me, then you have to love all of me,” she retorted, thinking vaguely that it came from a movie.

“I do,” he said firmly. “But I would also have you love me, all of me.”

“I do,” she said simply.

“Then you will accept this punishment as your due.” He took her hand and pulled her over to his bed.

Rail Rider
Chapter One

But lately, she had been realizing that she was dismally unsatisfied. The feeling persisted despite turning the last page of a fantastic book. So she would select another book, which also promised by reputation to be emotionally engaging and dramatically thrilling. Hours of immersion in that story, albeit entertaining, had only led to the same frustration.

It was beginning to occur to her that whatever she was searching for might not be found between the pages of a novel.

“No, he doesn’t like me. That was a rumor started by your husband. Christopher hasn’t shown the least bit of interest in me. And I freakin’ threw myself at him.”

“You did. You tried. Especially at the block party.”

Gail flushed red and turned back to her roses. “Made an ass out of myself. You and those bloody Mai Tais. You know he couldn’t even look at me the next day?”

“I suppose you were sort of obvious...”

“Sort of? Freakin’ airplane pilots flying overhead couldn’t miss my signals.”

Lord Richard raised a hand to his cheek, as if he were pondering something of great importance. “Did someone fail to tell you the rules of this castle, Emma?”

Her face burned and she struggled to find the proper words. Finally, she whispered, “Yes, my lord. Randal explained the rules to me. I know servants aren’t permitted in the library. I’m so sorry.”

With the faintest hint of a smile, Lord Richard asked, “Did Randal also explain the consequences of breaking those rules?”

Emma paled. “Yes, my lord.”

By Deborah Plum

Wayward Rescues
Chapter Five
(Last Chapter)

“Don’t go!” Melanie’s cry was anguished.

He kissed her hands. “I must. Your brother needs you here. I will check on him before I go, but I’m sure your care has been exemplary.” He took the ring from his vest pocket and picked up her right hand. “I bought this for you. It is yours always.”

He smiled at her, then walked out the door. She ran after him but he did not turn back.

“Flynn!”

He only waved.

He was staring at her now, assessing her.

Trying to intimidate me and doing a damn fine job, thought Juliette, her mind searching for an adequate response. “You could always ask my fiancé for a ransom,” she suggested, completely changing the subject, unwilling to play this mindless thug’s silly little game. “You’d get far more from him than selling me into slavery, you know!”

Bill sauntered over to a mahogany cabinet and poured himself a generous measure of rum from a crystal decanter before speaking. “Could I, now? And what price do you think I should ask from this unfortunate fellow to whom you’re betrothed?”

“You’re not spanking me,” she cried.

“Au contraire,” he whispered. “I am going to blister your bottom until you cry, my sweet.”

“That will make me hate you,” she cried.

“I don’t care if you hate me,” he said calmly. “You will be wed to me and you better figure out how to love me instead.”

That night, he made her comfortable on the couch before settling into the bedroom where he opened all the windows to let the sea air wash over him.

For hours, he stared out toward the beach, listening as the waves broke over the shoreline.

One thought kept floating through his mind, Why not ask her to come along?

It was crazy. They had just met but there was a mysterious bond between them – an immediate trust born in the drama of their first contact.

“Laura?” he called gently through the bathroom door. Regret was slithering through him.

“Yes?”

“Are you upset because I’m going away?”

“No! I am upset because of the moron across the road!” He swallowed the urge to snap at her and spoke softly again.

“Do you feel I don’t listen to your opinions enough? Or that I ignore your input?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Dave! You’re acting like a girl!”

By Robin Smith

“It is no longer a concern of yours, Doctor Chase. If I choose not to eat, that’s my decision.”

“You will eat that, or I will feed you.”

She slammed her hands down on the table. “I don’t think so.”

For the first time since he walked in Sloan’s room, Melanie saw him smile.

“Well, let me change your mind on that.”

“I’ll deal with you later!” said Bill calmly, sending her an ominous grin before slowly shutting the door firmly behind him. The sound of the key turning in the lock confirmed her status as a prisoner and then he was gone.

“You complete and utter swine!” fumed Juliette through gritted teeth, desperately trying to quell her emotions. He was clearly enjoying all of this, and the less she showed how upsetting he was, the more she hoped to deprive this brute of his sport! She instinctively rubbed her bottom, the delicate skin still throbbing from where his calloused hands had last made contact. She’d wager the oaf had left bruises – the man was nothing but a bully!

“And like all bullies… he enjoys his work!” Juliette screamed at the door, failing woefully in her efforts to stay calm. The door said nothing.

“Sorry,” she said. “But Father and I are at a bit of a standstill, and well you know it.”

“Bron, that was ages ago. Well, actually ever since Tyler proposed, so what, over six months ago – our time? Aren’t you over it yet?”

“No,” she said bluntly. “Because I know that if I come home, the same circumstance will arise. Father will try to marry me off to that scoundrel, Breckenridge, and that I will not have.”

If it had been anyone else, this would never have gotten so far. But then all the women in his life before this one had known. They had known that he was a totally dominant male who would only take so much. Even more so, the few women that he’d had feelings for had agreed to let him take the upper hand. Obviously, they’d known that was the only way it could really be with him.

It was a completely ironic thing that the one woman he had so obviously fallen in love with had turned out to be someone who didn’t have a spanking gene in her entire body.

His troubled eyes met hers, then took a moment to survey his surroundings. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep, Honey.”

She flinched slightly. There was no warmth in that endearment. Alex was already up and making his way out of the room, probably to brood in his study.

Slowly, she glanced around, too. The dark wood paneling and antique furniture looked eerie in the lamplight. As usual, rain splattered against the windows and she could hear the wind whistle faintly through the tress. Her gaze turned to the heavy oak door closing softly behind his retreating back. He might as well have slammed it in her face.

By Oona West