The Virgin's Price (Western Spanks #1)

An Erotic, Western Romp
Ellie Fentress lives the quiet life of Colter Canyon's seamstress. Beautiful, shy, innocent, she fantasizes about Dylan Ford, the handsome cowboy who owns half the town. Dylan watches out for her, even protects her from thugs, but he maintains his distance, and his gentlemanly ways. When Ellie is pushed into a tight corner, she makes a drastic plan, selling herself for one night of sin, only to discover that Dylan is not always the gentleman he seems to be.

From Chapter 1

Ellie shook her head. “I didn’t pay last month because momma needed money then, too. He already thinks I don’t know anything about owning a business. He said he’d just let me make it up to him in sewing.”

Clarice stopped shuffling and batted her eyelids. “I’d think of a different way to make rent if I owed it to Dylan Ford.”

Ellie felt her face burn and fought the feelings she had every time she thought of her landlord. Long ago, she’d come to the conclusion that Dylan was the most handsome man she’d ever known. Tall, muscular, eyes the color of a summer morning, she lost herself in thought any time she pictured him. She’d been friends with his little sister, Lizzie, back when they were in school. Even when she was fifteen, Dylan made her nervous and flustered any time she saw him at church or in town. Inscrutable. Ice and steel.

A few years back Lizzie moved to Fort Worth to study music. Ellie still saw Dylan time and again, but whenever she said hello, he gave her a dark look and a response of no more than a word or two. She never knew what she’d done to offend him.

Last year, she’d summoned her courage and approached him about renting space for her shop. He dismissed her out of hand, telling her he didn’t do business with eighteen year old girls. A few days later, she rode out to his ranch to ask him to reconsider.

Sitting in his study, addressing him formally as Mr. Ford, she spread seven dress orders across his desk, three weeks of solid work waiting to be filled. He leaned back in his chair, his mouth set in a grim line. She didn’t back down, told him she was the finest seamstress in Colter Canyon, and with her income she’d have more than enough to pay rent, cover payroll, and support her mother and younger brother. Finally, he relented, telling her she’d better not expect special treatment.

In spite of his words, Dylan, in his quiet, gruff way, looked out for her. Once a month he came to collect rent and always lingered. He liked to sit in the chair by the window while she sewed. He always asked how she was doing. Anytime she mentioned a problem, it was always quickly and mysteriously resolved.

A customer, the town banker, who didn’t want to pay for his wife’s linen dress, sent payment not more than an hour after Dylan stopped by – the money accompanied with a polite note of apology. And then there were the Shelton brothers, who often wandered into the shop, smirking and commenting about needing trousers that would accommodate all that God had given them. Not long after she told Dylan about them, they seemed to be downright afraid, crossing the street to avoid her, one of them limping and the other with his arm in a sling.

Clarice interrupted her thoughts. “I think you got a special place in your heart for Dylan Ford. But then again so do half the women in Colter Canyon.”