Page 18 of Shameless

An earlier version of this book was published as Taken and Tamed.

Chapter One

His body gleamed in the firelight, shadows dancing across sleek muscle and sculpted abs.

“Please. Don’t.”

“Too late. You broke the rules. Now you have to face the consequences.”

“I…I swear I won’t do it again.” She choked back a sob as she strained against the bonds holding her in place.

“You told me when I met you that you’re a naughty girl.” His voice lowered, took on a dark intensity. “You were right. You’ve beenverynaughty. Now I have to punish you. I’m going to strip off your clothes, put you across my lap, and spank your bare ass until you’re begging me to stop. And then I’ll spank you some more – untilIthink you’ve had enough. You can yell; you can scream all you want. There’s no one to hear you.”

A bolt of lust shot through her at the thought of being draped stark naked over the hard thighs of this virtual stranger. Then fear kicked in, driving away the eroticism and flooding her mind with horrible images from the past. Her gaze darted frantically around the room. One wall, solid glass stretching to the peak of the vaulted ceiling, framed endless miles of wilderness where the only light came from the full moon.

She sagged against her bonds. Even if she broke free, she could wander out there for days without running into another human being. Not a living soul knew where she was. There’d be no one coming to rescue her – and there was no place to go if she escaped.

Frantic, she struggled harder, as if doing so would change the harsh reality of her situation. But it was no use. He knew how to restrain a captive.

After all, that was how he made his living.

* * *

Twenty-Four hours earlier

“The usual. It’s been one helluva day.”

Brittley shook her head. “Redneck.” She dumped a handful of ice into a tall glass, poured in a shot then reached under the bar to fill the rest of the glass from a two-liter bottle kept there just for this customer.

“Not guilty,” Cass protested as she sank down on the padded stool. “A redneck wouldn’t insist on Gentleman Jack.”

“Like you could tell the difference after drowning it in Diet Mountain Dew. It’s a waste of good liquor.”

“You’d rather I drank it straight? Then I’d be an alcoholic instead of a redneck. The caffeine keeps me going. And I mix it with diet soda because I’m watching my waistline.”

“Having one drink when you come in here hardly qualifies you as an alcoholic. As for your waistline, every guy in this dump is watching it too. Along with your tits and ass. You have a body that belongs in one of those old black-and-white movies – you know, the ones with the gritty FBI agent trying to get the mob boss. You’d be the bad guy’s slutty girlfriend with big boobs and a tiny brain.”

Cass didn’t have to look down. Her friend was right – about the boobs, anyway. She hadn’t been able to see her belt buckle without looking in a mirror since she was twelve. If she dressed to hide her figure, she ended up looking like a dowager fromDownton Abbey. So she went the other way, flaunted her assets a little. So what?

“Yeah, well, this bod helps me get those great interviews. Most men are so busy imagining their hands roaming all over the girls that they lose track of what they’re saying.”

“You do know how to make bad boys sound appealing. I watched the clip on TV of you talking with that serial killer when your last book came out. I ended up feeling sorry for him. With such a rotten childhood, he never had a chance at a decent life.”

“Yeah, well that’s the trouble with edited sound-bites. He’s a lying psychopath with a paper-thin veneer of charm. Just enough to allow him to get close to his victims. In the part they chose not to include, I talked about how I tracked his parents down and interviewed childhood friends. Apparently he came out of the womb defective. It happens. His folks are decent people with three other normal kids who don’t understand how they gave birth to a monster.”

Brittley shivered. “No wonder you’re in here drinking! How can you stand your job?”

“I don’t drink that often. Usually only when I’ve been wading through autopsy reports and crime scene photos all day. They’re enough to cause nightmares. Most of the time, I love what I do. I get to choose my own assignments, set my own hours, travel all over the country. Yeah, I have to deal with some heavy shit. But every one of these criminals is unique. The ones who get away with murder for years manage to do it because they really are likable – when they’re not slicing and dicing their latest prey. Intelligent. Funny. I can see how their victims could trust them, even fall in love with them.”

Cass took a sip of her drink, swirled the ice around in the glass. “I’ll admit it does make it hard for me to get into a new relationship.” She leaned forward. “Truth be told, I haven’t gotten laid in ages. The creeps are easy to spot. It’s the smooth, charming ones I’m leery of now. Doesn’t leave me anyone to date. I’m home alone every night. At least I have plenty of time to write.”

Brittley shook her head. “Maybe it’s time you found something else to write about. Go interview nice people for a change. You know, the ones who post kitten videos on the internet.”

“Funny you should mention that. The pedophile from my last book,Young At Heart, lured his victims in by asking them to be in a YouTube video with his puppy.” She took another sip of her drink. “Puppywasdamn cute.”

Brittley backed off. “O-kay then. I’m through giving advice. But if I run across a nice guy, can I set you up? Don’t worry.” She hurried on. “Chances of my meeting a nice guy stuck behind this bar all day are probably slim to none.”

“Why is it every newly married woman wants everyone around her to be hooked up too? I’m glad you and Rick are blissfully happy together, but blind dates will have to wait. This is my last night in town for a while. I’m heading to Atlanta in the morning. I’m scheduled to interview an enforcer for the mob before he enters the witness protection program.”

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