Unaware that she had an audience, Kayla grabbed hold of the latches on
either side of the heavy box and yanked. It scraped along the floor, but didn’t budge much, and she tightened her grip, ready to pull on it again.
“Just what do you thing you’re doing?”
At the sound of Cord’s voice, Kayla jumped, thumping her head on the
underside of the bed. Muttering something unladylike, she reflexively touched her fingers to the back of her head. Darn, but she’d thought Cord would be busy with his foreman at least long enough for her to get a look around.
Knowing she couldn’t very well stay in this position while he was still standing there, she wiggled out from under the bed.
Smoothing a stray piece of silky auburn hair back from her face, she met
Cord’s accusing gaze with one of complete innocence. “Cord!”
“Abigail,” was all he said.
She glanced at the bed, and then back at him, nervously smoothing her hair back again. “I...I was just looking for one of my hair pins.”
“Really?” He folded his arms across his chest. “It looked more like you were snooping to me.”
She flushed. “Snooping! I most certainly wasn’t snooping. I can’t believe you would even imply such a thing.” She tried to sound as indignant as she could.
He lifted a brow, but said nothing.
She bit her lip, and looked away. “Well...maybe I was snooping a little,” she admitted softly. He’d caught her red-handed, so she would have to try and
wiggle out of this using her charm, a tactic that had worked many times
before on the men in New York, especially her father. She turned big green eyes on him. “But I was just trying to find out more about you.”
He scowled. “By crawling around under my bed.”
Kayla managed to look suitably embarrassed. “I certainly realize that it looked bad, but I hope you understand that I’m just trying to ensure that you are the wonderful man that you described to me in your letters. After all, you know it’s quite a shock for me. Being out here al alone without my family back in
Boston and all.” She put on a sad face as she spoke. She’d used this same
expression often on her father with great results.
Cord regarded her in silence for a moment, but he didn’t appear to be
swayed. “Well, I don’t know how they do things in Boston, Abigail, but out in the west, we respect other people’s private property. It’s a guiding principal out here that you’ll have to come to learn.”
She flushed again, and lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Cord,” she said quietly, hoping she sounded suitably chastised. “I won’t do it again.”
His mouth quirked. “Oh, I intend to make sure of that.”
As he spoke, he reached out to take her arm and led her over to the bed.
Kayla hung back. “What...what are you doing?”
But Cord ignored her question. Instead, he sat down on the bed, and in one swift motion, pulled her over his knee. Kayla simply lay there for a moment, too surprised to do more than that. He wouldn’t, she thought in disbelief, then let out a startled “Oh!” as his hand slapped her upturned bottom. Outraged, she struggled, trying to push herself upright, but a strong hand on her back held her in place while he spanked her again. Another followed, and then
another, each slap harder than the previous one.
The spanks stung, even through the thick material of her dress, but more than that, it was the embarrassment of being held down across this handsome
man’s strong thighs with her bottom in the air that made her struggle to free herself.
“Let me go!” she ordered indignantly, trying to push against him again.
“Not until you learn some manners,” he replied, lifting his hand to spank her again.
“What would a hick cowboy like you know about manners, anyway?” she
demanded, craning her neck to look at him over her shoulder.
The insult earned her an even harder spank and she cried out in protest.
“Obviously more than a spoiled city girl like you,” he retorted, bringing his hand down again and again on her poor bottom.
“Ouch! That hurts!” she whined.
“It’s supposed to hurt,” he told her, spanking her again. “How else are you going to remember not to snoop around in other people’s things?”
“Please, Cord,” she pleaded before he could continue with the spanking. “I won’t do it again.” Of course she would, she told herself; she just wouldn’t be foolish enough to get caught next time.
But her words must have been enough to sway Cord because he let her up.
Or maybe he had just simply decided that she’d been punished enough. He
had spanked her at least twenty or twenty-five times, she thought; her bottom was still throbbing even now that she’d stood up. She couldn’t decide if she should say something to him, or just turn and leave the room without another word, but he made the decision for her by holding onto her hand. Her face
flushed, Kayla looked up at him. In the lantern’s light, his eyes were a rich golden brown, and she felt her pulse quicken. No man had a right to be this handsome, she thought. As she continued to gaze up at him, she realized
that he no longer seemed angry or upset at her. She didn’t understand how
that could be after the spanking he’d just delivered.
“I’m willing to forget about this, Abigail,” he told her sternly. “As long as you promise to behave yourself.”
Beneath her dress, her bottom felt hot, and she longed to lift her dress and look at his handiwork in the full-length mirror that was in the corner of the room. She had no idea where that desire had even come from. This was
certainly the first spanking she’d ever gotten, and she was confused by her reaction
