“There was once a spirited feral mustang broken in by her stern rider. It was a harmonious relationship for the most part but, like any relationship, she tested the boundaries he placed on her and threw him...Would the rider, having suffered his own wound, retaliate, discipline or forgive?”

“Once I could see Mom for who she was, and not the mother she had failed to be, I'd be able to forgive her. She was her own person, not just my mother, and it was this person I was forging a relationship with.”

“Willow gazed up at him, her silly grin still in place. "You know wha'? You're kinda cute when you crook your eyebrows down like tha'."Rider muttered a curse, lifted her off the floor, and tossed her over his shoulder. "Juan, you and Hicks help Mrs. Brigham to her room. I'll take care of this little hellion."Willow lifted her head from where she dangled over Rider's shoulder. "See yuh later, Mrs. B."Miriam smiled and waved."i think Mrs. B is pickled," Rider's passenger said in a loud whisper as he hauled her out the door."No thanks to you,hellion," he growled, and smacked her bottom."Ow!"As he carried Willow into the house, Rider was hard pressed to quell a sudden urge to laugh. In her bedroom, he unceremoniously dumped her on her bed, but when he turned to leave, her pitiful sounding voice halted his exit. "Rider,come here a min-it.""Oh,hell, I suppose you're going to be sick." Grabbing a basin off her dresser, he shoved it under her chin. "It serves you right, you know." He watched nervously as she knocked the bowl aside."Dun...don't be mad." She held her arms out to him. "Come closer. Gimme a kiss and we'll make up. I like your kisses so-o-o-o much."This time Rider couldn't stall his grin and inadvertently leaned closer.She was on him like a duck on a June bug. With two hearty handfuls of his shirt, she yanked him down on top of her and plastered her mouth against his.Talking against his lips, the tipsy girl had the audacity to complain, "Not like this. Do it like before. You know, with your tongue."Rider squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. This isn't fair, he bemoaned silently. He tried to rise but Willow held tight, squirming her voluptuous little body against his. Sweat broke out on his forehead. If he didn't put a stop to this soon...He lifted his mouth from hers. "If I promise to kiss you with my tongue, will you let go of me and go to sleep?""Uh-huh." Willow's eyes drooped, but the affect appeared more seductive than drunken.Lifting her shoulders slightly off the bed, he wound his arms around her and covered her mouth with his. His tongue explored hers in a long, liquid kiss, tasting of wine and desire. Rider savored its promise, wishing just this once, he could be less a gentleman.Willow wrapped one of her legs over his and shifted her hips, innocently aligning his swelling heat with hers. He started and bolted off the bed. "Holy hell! You did it again!""What?" Her voice was sluggish and sleepy now.Disgusted with himself, Rider stomped to the door. "Sleep it off, Freckles."Outside Willow's door, Rider slumped against the wall and shook his head. Willow Vaughn was a constant surprise, and he loved the girl so bad it hurt.”

“Rider was still cursing the incident back at the ranch, when riding north, he spied an outlandish sight. As he drew closer, he realized his eyes weren't playing a joke on him. Coming toward him was Hick's gunslinger, stark naked but for his hat and boots. "Well, I'll be damned," he whispered to himself. "Even his shooting iron is burnt!"The moment Scofield heard Rider's horse, he jerked his hat off his head and covered his privates."What happened, man?" Rider asked. "Where's your clothes, your horse?"Scofield lifted rage-filled eyes to the foreman. "The Vaughn slut, she did this to me. When I get my hands on her, me and the boys are gonna have a party and she's gonna be the entertainment. After I'm done with 'er-""Hold on there, Scofield," Rider interrupted. "Are you talking about Willow Vaughn? Why would she do a thing like this?""How should I know! She just lost her temper sudden-like. Then she pulled that gun of hers and ordered me off my horse and made me strip down.”

“Drustan raked a hand through his hair and fumbled in the dark for the door. When it didn't budge, a part of him was unsurprised. Yet another part of him met the fact with a kind of glad resignation.She wanted battle? Battle she would get. It would be a pleasure to have it out with her finally. Once he'd ripped the door from the framing, he would exact vengeance upon her wee body with gleeful abandon. No more honorable I-won't-touch-you-because-I'm-betrothed. Nay he'd touch her. Any damn place and any damn way he wanted to. As many times as he wanted to. Until she begged and whimpered beneath him. She'd been trying to drive him mad? Well, he was giving in to it. He would act like the animal she made him feel like being. The hell with Anya, the hell with duty and honor, the hell with discipline. He needed to tup. Her. Now.”

“I just want, she said when he’d finally broken down her defenses. And so had he. He’d wanted her to desire him, but truthfully, whether she knew it or not, any man’s tender arms would do. The woman was wounded and aching for love, and it didn’t matter who Adrian was, or that he was the one who held her. But it had mattered to him. His eyelids slid closed as he envisioned all the pleasure he could have shown her, if she hadn’t had the decency to decline. No toys or tricks needed for this one; just deep, primal fucking. Stripping away her inhibitions alone would have been erotic enough to test his endurance.”