Can she make a new life for herself by stealing a dead woman’s identity?

Elizabeth Taylor has been a handful of trouble all her life. In Boston, she usually found herself in one minor mishap after another. The night her problems got too big for her to wiggle out of with a flutter of lashes and a smile, she finds the only course of action to save herself is to hightail it out of the city. Figuring it is time to see what has her brother so taken with small town America, she heads west. By the time she arrives in Grover Town, she has a new name, a position, and a husband. But avoiding her brother’s suspicions isn’t her only issue. Keeping out from under her husband’s firm hand seems impossible. Who ever knew that a man could be so stuck on truth? As one lie after another gets unpacked, she may lose the one thing that has become important to her, her husband’s love.

Doc Martin Clarkston has lived in Grover Town all his life, except the years he left to get his medical training. With a fresh new clinic and things booming in town, he’s ready to settle down. However, he doesn’t have time for courting, so ordering himself a wife and finding one trained as a nurse is even better. When the lovely Beth arrives off the train, she isn’t what he expected. She doesn’t seem at all as she’d professed to be in her letters, dressed more like a woman expecting to receive visitors in a parlor than one ready to roll up her sleeves and treat the Mid-west’s ill. He learns quickly that spoiled and falsehoods go hand-in-hand with his wife. Educating her in all things soon becomes his main priority. And when her past catches up to her, Clarkston is prepared to fight to protect what’s his.

Publisher’s Note: This steamy historical romance contains mystery, graphic scenes, and a theme of power exchange.

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Excerpt

She hesitated but soon walked one foot out, barely complying. Her stance revealed the tuft of her dark, short hairs that covered her sex between the small opening of her thighs.

“You get ten for each time your decorum went awry.”

“Twenty,” she gasped. “Such an infraction isn’t cause for twenty strikes.”

He caressed the silken swells of her backside. “Keep it up, Elizabeth, and I’ll make it thirty.”

Quickly, she rolled her lips inward.

After a nod, he began. He would have liked to have her count them out, however, his wife was more likely to allow something biting to fly from her mouth as the discomfort of the spanking increased, which would possibly led them to being there all night.

The first few hits were nothing more than warming pats. With his wife most likely being new to such discipline, he wanted to ease her into it. The point wasn’t to hurt her, yes, make it hurt, but more to be a reminder of unacceptable behavior.

Left and right he went, striking one cheek after another. It wasn’t until he got to around ten that he started to put a little more strength behind it. Number eleven had her ass jiggling and her crying out.

He landed the next four at the lower part of her seat. He struck that tender area and watched her try to dance away.

“Be still!” he commanded and smacked her two more times on the round part. When he got to eighteen, his wife’s plump, peachy ass was fire ant red and she had both of her fists pressed to her mouth as she whimpered around them.

The final two, he angled right at her sex.

Smack. Smack. The wet sound echoed around the room. Her hair cushioned the blow some, he knew, but she would have felt them against her clit.

“Ouch! Oh!” She clamped her thighs together and inadvertently captured his hand between them.

“Steady, now.”