Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
She swallowed hard, willing herself to remain aloof and detached and not aroused by his overt display of raw masculinity and power. He raised an eyebrow, she feigned obedience, nodding. His jaw clenched in reluctant approval as he pricked his spurs, their horse taking off at a gallop.
They rode hard into the night, stopping only for a brief spell to eat. She’d become accustomed to eating what she was served, under Cole’s stern, watchful eye, but the griddle cakes caught in her throat, dry and unpalatable. At home, she’d never been forced to eat what she didn’t like, and her father had fired chefs who hadn’t accommodated her particular tastes.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” she’d insisted, but she’d eaten hardly anything. She got to her feet, but he quickly took her by the elbow, bent her over, and gave her a good, hard swat. The other men hadn’t even flinched, but the correction in front of them mortified her and she’d reluctantly gulped down two more of the dry, flat cakes while Cole stood and watched, arms across his chest. Brute.
The gun had been a tragic mistake, now tucked away in Cole’s belt probably until such time he saw fit to give it back to Junior. She’d be an angel now, perfectly obedient. He’d have no excuse to spank her.
She wondered if he would find one. Though she feared punishment, a small part of her, a part that she kept hidden in denial, was attracted to his utter control.
As they began their journey again, the sun dipping low on the horizon, a chill crept over Aida, and she shivered.
“Cold, darlin’?” Cole asked over her shoulder. Justice was riding beside them now, and he looked sharply at Cole, a brief look that was nearly lost on Aida before he turned front again and went back to stoically ignoring her.
“I’m fine,” Aida lied, another shiver betraying her.
He grunted, clearly not appeased by her answer, and growled, “You scoot up closer to me if need be. We ride on until we get to our next stop, but it shouldn’t be long.”
She obediently scooted closer to him, his flank pushed up against her back, his warmth seeping through her thin garments. She could feel his hardened muscles against her, and her eyes focused on his large, strong hands holding the reins. She shivered, but this time not from cold. She was helpless to control the primal attraction to his authority and power.
Cole spoke over his shoulder. “An hour’s hard ride’ll bring us to Saddle Creek, two before we get to Lawson’s just after dark.”
He dug in his spurs, and his horse picked up speed, but seconds later, he pulled the reins taut in his hand with a loud, “Whoa!” He held a hand up to the rest of his crew and they all careened to a halt. They were surrounded, a semi-circle of dark riders closing in on them. Aida inhaled deeply, moving closer to Cole as the men neared. She couldn’t see their faces, but wondered if they’d been caught by the local sheriff, and if justice would be meted out. She shifted on her seat with mixed feelings. Though she longed to be free of Cole’s gang, she feared the inevitable: being back under the same roof as her father. It was imperative she get to the next town. She needed to escape.
The largest, darkest of the group of men on horses sauntered up to Cole, lifting his Stetson, his hand resting lazily on his gun. “Is that who I think it is? It ain’t Cole Clemens and his crew now, is it?” His voice was low and something about his demeanor made the little hairs stand on end along Aida’s arms, fear pricking along her neck. He seemed more like a man who’d get along with Justice rather than Cole or Junior. His beady little eyes zoned in on Aida, before dipping to her creamy chest and ample thighs. He nearly licked his lips.
Cole stiffened in his seat, but when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly familiar, even congenial. “If it ain’t Monty and the gang,” he said with a reluctant smile.
Monty spat on the ground, the thick brown stream making Aida’s stomach churn. The dark rider grinned at Cole, his teeth still brown from the chewing tobacco. His face was thin and narrow, a deep scar running straight across his cheek nearly down to his chin. The thin slits of his eyes reminded Aida of a savage animal. She shivered. The other men sat upon their horses as if waiting for a cue from him.
Aida instinctively pulled even closer to Cole.
“Damn,” Monty said, while a wicked grin spread over his face. “Here I was thinkin’ we’d get a little fun in and shake up some travelers afore we turn in for the night. Maybe get lucky and land us a lady or two to share.” He spat again on the ground. Aida felt the bile rise in her throat, but stared at him bravely.