Robert McGregor never thought he’d find himself attracted to a strong-willed Englishwoman, but when beautiful, feisty nursemaid Jane Bartle offers her help in his search for a kidnapped baby he takes it upon himself to tame her. Her blushing response to a stern lesson over his knee only increases his desire to claim and wed her, and he redoubles his efforts to make her his.
Though she knows a Highland lord has no business marrying a commoner, let alone an English one, Robert’s stern dominance and strict correction leave Jane helplessly, desperately aroused. It isn’t long before his skilful seduction ends with her in his arms, but when her rebellious nature causes a scene in front of his family will the punishment be more shameful than she can bear?
Author: Ashe Barker
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 91,000 words
“Last time I spanked ye I allowed ye tae keep your skirts down. Such considerations are irrelevant now, considerin’ your little display earlier, an’ ye appear tae have mislaid your clothing in any case. Give me the cloak, if ye please.” He extended his hand, waiting.
“But… no. I… I…”
“I ken full well that ye’re naked beneath. That is quite all right. Very suitable for our purpose here.”
“What is our purpose?” It was an inane question, Jane knew that. It was perfectly obvious what he meant to do.
Robbie’s response was simply to lift one eyebrow. “The cloak. Now. Then, ye may lean on the back of the cart, here an’ present that pretty bottom for me.”
She gaped at him but could find no words of protest. None that would make any difference, anyway. Her eyes widened yet further when he started to remove his belt.
“You… you mean to take your belt to me?”
“Aye, since a hand spanking has failed tae impress ye overmuch.”
“Please, do not do that.” No one had ever beaten her like this, even as a child. Her mother was a strict woman, but her brood were usually quelled by her raised voice and Mistress Bartle had no need to resort to such methods.
“Do not make this any worse, Jane. Do as I say, and do it now, else the twenty strokes I have in mind will be doubled.”
Twenty strokes? Dear sweet Lord…
“Jane.” His tone hardened.
Jane raised her gaze to meet his, and knew she had no choice.
She untied the straps of the cloak and slipped it from her body, then handed it to him. The cool evening air caused her to shiver. Her nipples swelled and pebbled. She stood, motionless, not quite able to bring herself to walk up to the cart.
“Please, do not hurt me…” Jane’s voice was small, barely audible. She had always prided herself on fearing no one, but her courage, if that was what it was, deserted her now. He looked so… huge. And so formidable. And so very, very frightening.
“Twenty strokes of a belt on your bare arse is intended tae hurt, lass.” He gestured to her to get in position. “But ye need have nae fear of injury. Ye will walk away from here in one piece.”
“What if I cannot stand it?”
“Ye can, an’ ye will.” She fancied his voice gentled, just a little, even if his expression did not.
His belt was now in his hand, the sword removed and set down on the ground. He doubled the length of leather, the buckle clasped within his fist.
Jane swallowed hard. This was happening, whether she liked it or not. And she did not. She did not like it one bit.
“I shall never forgive you for this,” she muttered, at last moving toward the wagon.
“I do not seek forgiveness. Just obedience. And I shall have it, one way or another.”