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Summer Scorchers

By: Maryse Dawson
Published By: Blushing Press
Copyright: ©2016 by Blushing Books® and Maryse Dawson
8 Short Stories / 39,800 words
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Travelling abroad has its challenges, and these adventurous girls soon find out that a warmed bottom is one of them!

Natalie Havers is spoiled. When her dad charters a private yacht for a two week holiday, she thinks to have everything her own way. When she goes swimming, ignoring the crew's warning that a squall is coming, handsome Captain Cas Connors is the first one in to rescue her. But she

doesn’t count on the fact she’ll be disciplined for her disobedience!

Elodie Marshall and her friend are on holiday in Spain. They wake up one morning, after a night of drunken revelry, to find that they’ve wrecked the local bar, El Tigre. Owned by the handsome

Xavier Marcos, he demands they either pay him compensation or work for him until he’s satisfied they’ve paid their debt. Having no money, they have no option but to work for him. But Elodie finds it hard to work in the oppressive heat and soon finds herself in trouble with the handsome Xavier!

Gina and her best friend, Emma, decide to go on a working holiday, picking fruit at various farms. Their first job is at a farm owned by the handsome Mason McDonald. Everything goes well until Gina gets drunk one evening and decides to drive the neighbouring farmer’s tractor. She ends up letting some cows escape and gets caught red-handed by Mason, who has his own methods of discipline—a sound spanking!

Read these and other summer scorchers about girls behaving badly, in this romantic spanking collection!

Disclaimer: Summer Scorchers is a comical, romantic group of stories that contain sexual scenes and punishment spankings.

A Deceitful Trip

 

Ellie Peterson tapped her fingers impatiently on her living room windowsill and craned her neck to see down the road. Will, her husband, was due home any minute, and she wanted to make sure his dinner was cooking when he came in. There was never an easier way to get to a man's heart than through his stomach...or sex. Both worked equally well.

Suddenly, she saw his car approach. Like a bullet, she was in the kitchen. She turned the heat on the frying pan, and the moment Will walked in, she put the steaks on to sizzle. The luscious smell of meaty goodness filled the air.

"Mmm, something smells good. What're we having?" Will asked, walking over to her. He placed his hands on her hips and kissed her, his firm lips instantly sending shivers of desire rippling through her.

Ten years married, and she still got a thrill each time his lips touched hers. He was even better looking now than when she had married him.

"Your favourite, Steak Diane," she replied, smiling up at him.

"Are we celebrating something?" he asked, looking a little puzzled.

"No. I just thought you deserved something nice. You've been working so hard lately." She chewed her lip, hoping he wouldn't see through her ruse.

He frowned and looked around him. "The house is awfully quiet. Are the kids asleep?"

Ellie laughed. "No. They're with my mum. She's having them for the night so we can have a little 'us' time."

His eyes darkened and he pulled her against him. "Now that is definitely overdue!"

"Oh yeah, it sure is. Now go and have a quick shower. This will be ready in five minutes so don't be long!"

Whilst Will was upstairs, Ellie opened a bottle of red wine and laid the table for two. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork. It was perfect.

When Will came downstairs, he sat down at the table, and she slid a plate of sumptuous food in front of him. He exhaled slowly before saying, "That looks delicious!"

She sat down opposite him and poured them both a glass of wine before tucking into her steak. After a couple of mouthfuls, she caught him studying her with a wry smile.

"It won't work, you know," he said calmly, spearing a piece of prime beef.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "What won't?"

"This!" He pointed to his meal and his glass. "I can see right through you."

"I don't know what you're on about!" She raised her chin and tried to look affronted. Blast him. He always seemed to know what she was thinking or plotting. It must be the journalist in him.

"You're not coming, and that's final!" he stated.

"But..."

He raised his hand, stalling any further words. "We had this discussion last week. I told you, it'll be far too dangerous."

Ellie pouted. It was so unfair. Will was going to the Turkish capital to report on the civil unrest, and she wanted to accompany him so she could take photos. It used to be her job but since having Lauren, five, and Richard, three, she had been a stay at home mum. Now, she was ready to jump back in. Her mum was happy looking after her grandchildren in-between playgroup and school.

The only obstacle in her way was Will.

She took a mouthful of wine and tried again. "I took plenty of photos in Afghanistan. That was far more dangerous."

"And that was a long time ago...before we had children. Come on, Ellie, don't spoil the evening."

She sighed heavily. "I just want back in the game, Will."

"Well, start close to home then. Have you contacted Amanda?"

Amanda Levin was one of the editors at the Daily Post. Ellie had done a lot of freelance photography for her in the past.

"No, I haven't, but I will." An idea nestled in her mind and she perked up. "Yes, I'll contact Amanda in the morning and see if she has anything for me!"

 

* * *

 

Later that night, whilst Will was asleep, she rummaged through the documents in his case until she had his flight number and his hotel details. She was determined to go, one way or another. Hopefully, Amanda would need someone on the ground. She'd always praised Ellie's work and said she was one of her best photographers. Surely, she would jump at the chance for Ellie to help.

All she had to do was leave the day after Will left and arrive back home a day before him. Then he would be none the wiser. Anyway, so what if he found out afterwards? What could he do? Her backside clenched at the thought, knowing only too well, what it would mean, a very sore bottom for her. She shrugged. She had already made up her mind she was going, and if that was one of the consequences, so be it! Besides, she was pretty confident she could pull this off without him ever knowing. She smiled wickedly to herself before crawling back into bed beside Will. His deep, even breathing reassured her that he hadn't a clue what she was about!

 

* * *

 

The next morning, when Will had left for work, Ellie dialled Amanda's mobile.

"Hello, darling. I haven't heard from you in months!" Amanda cooed.

"I know. I've been busy with one thing and another, namely kids!"

"Oh, I can quite understand. Quite wear you out...that's why I never had any."

Ellie smiled down the phone. "Look, I'm thinking of taking a trip to Ankara in Turkey to take some photos of the civil unrest. Have you got anyone out there at the moment?"

"Stuart Middleton, but he's just come down with some sort of gastric trouble. If you could take his place, that would be a Godsend, darling!"

She could hear the excitement in Amanda's voice.

"I'd love to."

"You've worked with him before, haven't you?"

"Yes. Many times."

"Then leave everything to me. For now, you can take his place, and when he's better, you can work alongside one another. It'll be perfect! I'll get your flight booked and accommodation and..."

"Amanda," Ellie interrupted her. "This might sound a little odd but I have to work around my husband, you know, because of the kids. If I give you the dates I can go, could you possibly book those specific dates?"

"Of course, darling. Leave it all to me."

"Oh, and don't book me in at the Sheraton. I've heard it's a no go zone at the moment."

Which actually translated as Will was staying there...and if he found out she was there, then her bottom was in a whole heap of trouble! She finished the call with Amanda and went to search out her camera equipment.

 

* * *

 

A week later and Ellie arrived in Ankara. The town was buzzing with people. Amanda had booked her into a hotel literally only two buildings away from the Sheraton. It was smaller and hopefully less conspicuous. She had brought an auburn, shoulder length wig to cover up her blonde hair whilst she was there, so even if she did spot Will, he wouldn't recognise her. Not unless he got up close, and she didn't intend for that to happen!

She was in the room next to Stuart, and by the time she'd arrived, he was already feeling much better, although still a little weak. He was thrilled to see her and brought her up to date on what had been happening in Ankara.

After the catch up, she went back to her room and unpacked all her camera equipment before heading out onto the streets. It felt great to be back doing what she did best. She loved the thrill of getting a picture that spoke more than words ever could. She just hoped, this week, she would get several to impress Amanda.

 

A Man Of His Word

Part One

 

Penny Flanagan threw herself down on the small bed in her cabin and laid a hand across her face, emitting a long, heavy sigh. She was absolutely shattered. She drew her hand away and looked up at the low ceiling, her eyes glazed.

She'd never have taken this job if she'd known how hard they made you work. But here she was, out at sea, with nowhere else to go. Not until they reached the next port, and, even then, what would she do? The little money she had left from her hard-earned wages would be used up in air and taxi fares to get her back home. Most of her wages she had sent home to her brother, Michael, who had run up several thousand pounds in gambling debts. Once he'd started gambling, he hadn't been able to stop. The wages from his job alone hadn't been enough to get the card sharks off his back, so in desperation, he'd asked her for help. So for her, going back home was not an option until those debts had been paid.

In all fairness, she had been fed up with her job as a waitress at her local café. The pay was worse than crap, and the owners had little respect for their employees. So she'd taken this job as junior stewardess on the Hermione, a luxury yacht sailing from Marseilles and touring around the Mediterranean Sea. The wages were much better, and the idea of getting a suntan and seeing different ports in her free time had enticed her. Free time! That was just wishful thinking! She was up at six and didn't get to bed until eleven, seven days a week. So much for getting a tan. What had she been thinking? How naïve was she? The only concession was that if they were staying in port for a few days, then the Captain would let them off duty for two hours, but that was it. Better than nothing, though, and he didn't dock their wages, either. Could be worse!

The plus side of working on the Hermione was that it had given her a sizable amount of money in her bank account that she had been able to transfer to her brother monthly. Combined with his wages, it had nearly paid off the debt he owed.

Extra money was always welcome, and some of the guests they had on board tipped really well, others were as tight as assholes. The Hermione picked up clients from one port and dropped them off at another, when they required. Most of the clients just wanted a few days hospitality on the yacht, a mini cruise, where their every whim was catered to. Others stayed on board for the longer haul. One particular client had been with them since the beginning: Logan Levante. He was a cantankerous man in his sixties. Nothing was right for him, and she'd never received a tip from him, either. Come to think of it, she'd never seen him tip anyone. Tight git.

She rolled off the bed and slipped out of her uniform into her pyjamas. With a quick brush of her teeth and a cleanse of her face, she was back in bed. She sighed with exhaustion and closed her eyes. At least, tomorrow would or should be a better day. They would be arriving in Chiavari, Italy, and the Captain had promised the staff could take a couple of hours off to look around. Not all at once mind. No, it would be in rotation.

She smiled, a small bubble of excitement rushing up. She'd always wanted to visit Italy, and now was her chance. So far, she'd only managed to look around a couple of small ports in Spain. That had been fun but Italy always sounded so romantic when she read about it. Italian men were meant to be the best lovers…apparently! She had yet to meet one. Except for Mr. Levante. Miserable old git. Perhaps when he was younger, he would have been nice? She grimaced. Nah! Once a miserable git, always a miserable git, in her mind.

She leaned over and switched off the light, sinking into a deep sleep that only the truly exhausted can appreciate.

 

* * *

 

The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Penny knocked on Mr. Levante's door and waited for him to answer.

He opened the cabin door so forcefully that her fringe swished when the draft touched it. She blinked a couple of times before plastering a smile on her face. "Good morning, Mr. Levante. I have your breakfast for you."

"Come in, come in." He stood to the side so she could enter. She swept in gracefully, carrying the silver tray over to the table. "Would you like me to pour for you?"

"No!" he snapped. "I am fully able to pour coffee."

"As you wish, sir!" She wanted to add—You rude old bastard! But managed to refrain. "Is there anything else?" Most clients at this point would tip but not this man. Hell would freeze over first!

"No." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand and turned his back, so she quickly left. She shuddered on her way back down to the galley. What a horrible man. She freed her mind of him and sought out her friend, Helena.

"Helena, did you find out if we could get the same time off this morning?"

Helena was the masseuse and a senior stewardess. She pulled a face. "The Captain won't allow it. Danny's got the same slot as you, which means I can't go until later. There has to be one masseuse on hand at all times."

"Oh, that's not fair! Did you ask Danny if he'd swap?"

"Yeah. He won't. He's been given the same slot as Sandra, and you know he's not going to let that pass. He fancies her rotten!"

"Bugger!"

"You'll have a good time anyway, hon. Hopefully, we can go together at the next port."

An impatient voice interrupted them both. "Are you two going to do some work today or stand around nattering and get us all in trouble?"

They snapped their heads around to find the boat's Spanish chef, Marcos, glaring at them impatiently, his hands on his hips. Penny smiled sweetly and picked up one of the breakfast trays.

"Sorry, Marcos!"

He pursed his lips. "It's cabin seven, and for you, Helena, number fourteen. If the food gets cold, it will be on your heads!"

Helena quickly took the tray, and they both headed towards the corridor. "My two hours off can't come soon enough!" she exclaimed.

Penny agreed. "Mine neither!" She smiled and headed off to finish breakfast service.

 

Alpine Au Pair

Charlotte Evans stared out of the plane window and smiled happily, marveling at the snow-capped mountains below. She was off to Switzerland. It all seemed a bit surreal, really. One minute, she was stuck in a job she detested, the next, she was jetting off to work in another country.

She had come across the job ad, quite by chance, one lunchtime, whilst feeling particularly melancholy. Flicking through the newspaper in her local café, her eyes had been drawn to a small ad under the job section. She occasionally flicked down the jobs list to see if anything took her fancy, but there was usually nothing there of interest. This one intrigued her. The agency advertised for an au pair/chalet girl to work for three months in Switzerland, looking after a five-year-old English girl and generally keeping the home clean and providing meals for the owner. She could do that. She'd babysat her niece often enough to know what was involved, and her cooking skills were pretty good. So she'd applied, and after a lengthy interview with the agency, here she was, excited but nervous.

The owner was a man called Anton Barbier, and he was in his early forties, widowed with just the one child. She only hoped she liked him and he liked her. Three months under the same roof with someone you disliked wasn't a good prospect.

The plane touched down, and after waiting what seemed like an eon for her luggage, she finally made her way into the arrival's lounge. The hall was quite crowded, and Charlotte looked around at the waiting faces to find the person who was supposed to be picking her up. Several people were holding placards, but not one of them said her name. She sighed and chewed her bottom lip. Suddenly, she noticed a tall man in a suit striding towards her.

He stopped in front of her and smiled. "Charlotte?"

She swallowed hard. God, he was gorgeous. She realized she was gawking at him, so she quickly tried to find her voice. "Yes, Charlotte Evans. Are you here to pick me up?"

He showed her a set of even white teeth. "Sure am. I'm parked in the car park around the side. Here...let me!" He took charge of her luggage trolley and began to wheel it away. "How was the flight?" He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Oh, fine. No delays. Well...as you can see, because I'm on time!" She groaned, realizing she was babbling. "Sorry, I'm just a little nervous."

"Oh, you'll be fine. Mr. Barbier won't eat you."

They reached the car park, and he placed her luggage in the back of a large jeep. "Hop in. I won't be a minute – just got to put the card in the machine."

She climbed into the front and waited for him to return. He was extremely good looking. Dark cropped hair, broad shoulders and an easy manner. Wow. If her sister could see him, she'd drool. Which in truth, she was pretty much doing herself. She fanned her face with her hand. What was wrong with her? She hadn't been this affected by a man for ages. She wondered if he was single – she sure hoped so!

He climbed into the driver's seat and handed her the ticket. "Hold that for a second. I have a tendency to lose them before I get to the exit barrier."

She laughed. "Then you'd be stranded."

"It's happened, believe me." He shook his head and chuckled.

She handed him the ticket when they reached the exit, and they passed through onto the one-way system around the airport.

"Do you work for Mr. Barbier?" she asked, taking a sneaky glance at one of his broad arms whilst his attention was on the road.

"You could say that." He waited for a car to pass and then headed off up the motorway. "The house isn't far. You'll love it. It's set up high, and the views are magnificent."

"I can't wait to see it." She fiddled with her nails. "Will you be around much?"

"Yes, every day."

Good, she thought, staring out of the window at the passing scenery. It was all so pretty. Snow covered mountains dominated the landscape, with the occasional traditional chalet set here and there in between small villages. She smiled, certain she had made the right decision in coming.

His deep voice broke through her thoughts. "Mr. Barbier said you were twenty-three. You look younger."

"Do I? I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Good, I'd say. Having youthful good looks is never bad."

She blushed and looked back out of the window, her breathing suddenly a little shallow.

"Have you ever been here before?" he asked.

"No, in fact, you'd be surprised, but I've never stepped foot out of England! I was bored with my job so I decided to apply for this one."

"What did you do? Before, I mean?"

"Oh, I did the accounts for a small factory. There were only me and two others in the office, and it was becoming a bit humdrum. I just wanted...no, needed, to do something different with my life."

"And you think this is it?"

She shrugged her slim shoulders. "I guess so. I just hope Mr. Barbier isn't a tyrant and expects too much from me."

"Are you lazy, then?" he queried, darting a quick glance in her direction.

"No! Heavens no!" she shifted in her seat. "I'll pull my weight along with the rest of them, but I dislike unfairness."

"What would you deem to be unfair?"

Puzzled, she stared at his profile. "You ask an awful lot of questions."

His eyes crinkled with mirth, but he kept his attention on the road as he responded. "People have oft made the same remark. I'm just interested, that's all. So tell me...what would be unfair?"

Charlotte thought hard. "Well, working me too hard, I guess. If I don't get enough sleep, I can be irritable, so if I'm early to rise then I expect to go early to bed. Well, early-ish, anyway."

"What else?"

"Hmm...I'm not partial to being shouted at."

"Would he have cause to shout at you, then?"

"I hope not! I'm a good girl, most of the time!"

He quirked an eyebrow and quickly took his eyes off the road to stare at her. "Most of the time. That implies you can be bad."

She smiled flirtatiously. "Given the right situation."

He smirked and slowed the car down. "Well, here we are." He pulled the car into the drive of a picturesque looking chalet and turned the engine off.

Charlotte gasped. "It's beautiful!"

"I thought you'd like it. Come on, let's get you settled." He opened the car door and jumped out. "Leave your luggage, for now. I'll get it in a minute."

 

 

Caught In A Squall

 

I leaned over the handrail on the luxury yacht and called down to my dad, just as he was climbing into the small dinghy attached to the craft. "Dad! Don't forget my Chanel, and make sure it's a big bottle!"

He turned and smiled up at me, his silver-grey hair almost shimmering in the bright Caribbean sunshine. He waved, acknowledging my demands before ordering the crewmember to take him to shore. I loved my dad. He gave me everything I wanted and more. Occasionally, he would moan, but all I had to do was turn my mouth down and sniffle, and he would immediately be contrite. I'd learned that trick from a very young age—I suppose you could say I'm a little devious. I smirked and pulled away from the railing.

We were midway through a month's break, cruising around the islands in a chartered yacht with accompanying crew, and it was heavenly. I hadn't lifted a finger, but then I rarely did. I glanced down at my toenails and grimaced, noticing the chipped varnish. Eugh. They were in dire need of painting. Sauntering down to my cabin, I located my zip bag of nail varnishes and returned to the open deck where I sat down on one of the comfortable loungers. Slipping off my sandals, I wiggled my toes, deciding on what colour to paint them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the crewmembers lighting up a cigarette. He had his back to me, but when I glanced up and saw the broad shoulders, I knew who it was. Cas Connors. Drop-dead gorgeous, Cas Connors. He captained the crew. I'd caught him looking at me a couple of times, but it wasn't with the usual expression I was used to encountering. Most men openly drooled, but not so Cas. His expression was usually brooding, verging on disapproval. Why he should disapprove of me, I didn't know. What on earth had I done wrong?

It irked me to be truthful. I wasn't used to being looked at like that, and I didn't like it! I tried to ignore him and searched through my bag for the right color varnish. Pulling out a bright-scarlet pot, I unscrewed the lid, and, resting my foot on the small coffee table, I started to paint my toenails.

Halfway through the second foot, one of the deckhands managed to jog the table while mopping the deck.

"Oh, for goodness' sake! Be more careful, will you?" I huffed loudly. "Geez!"

"Sorry, Miss Havers," he apologized.

I glared at him and took out my nail varnish remover. Now I would have to do that toe again. I pursed my lips and repaired the damage.

"Your face will stay like that one day, you know," said a deep voice right next to me.

I looked up to find Cas standing directly in front of the table, his arms folded across his broad chest and a very disapproving look on his face. I raised an eyebrow. "How my face looks is no concern of yours!"

"I was just offering up some advice," he replied casually, his gaze unwavering.

I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. "I didn't ask for your advice. Please keep it to yourself. Haven't you got some work to do?"

"Not at the moment, no." He hunkered down next to me, placing his hand on the sun lounger. His closeness was disconcerting, and I found myself having to lean back. He was so close, I could see the flecks of brown in his hazel eyes. I blinked rapidly, wondering what he was going to do.

"I've sailed this yacht all around the world, and I can honestly say, I have never met anyone as rude or as spoiled as you. It would serve you well to rein in that tongue of yours a little. The crew are here to help you enjoy your holiday and keep you safe. They do not deserve to be talked to as though they were a lower form of life. Do you understand?"

His eyes pierced mine, and I swallowed hard before replying. "I'm not rude. He was careless, and I told him off!"

"You were rude, but you will not be so again, will you?"

I licked my lips, which had suddenly gone as dry as parchment. No one had ever spoken like this to me before, and I didn't quite know how to react. Part of me wanted to slap him for being so bold, the other part of me wanted to obey him, for some reason. Perhaps it was the commanding tone to his voice? Whatever it was, I didn't quite know what to say.

He stood up before I had the chance. "Good. We understand one another." He strode off towards the front of the yacht, disappearing from my view. I realized my mouth was hanging open and promptly shut it. How dare he talk to me like that! When my dad returned, I was going to tell him exactly what I thought of him!

 

* * *

 

"Darling girl, as much as I love you, from what you've told me, it does sound as though you were a little harsh to the poor man. He was only doing his job, keeping the deck clean. I'm certain he will be more careful now that you've spoken to him."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't care about him, Dad." His eyebrows shot up, and I quickly added, "I mean, of course I care about him…but it's Cas I'm angry with. Are you going to let him get away with talking to me like that?" I pushed my bottom lip forward in a mini pout.

He came over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Cas is the captain of this yacht, and he wasn't actually rude to you, was he? He just asked you to treat his crew with respect. He has a point, my dear. An unhappy crew would make for a very sad holiday indeed."

My lip pouted further, and I sniffed softly. "But, Dad…"

He kissed my forehead. "Natalie, put the whole incident from your thoughts. It was nothing, and we should treat it as such. Now, let me show you what I bought for you."

I went to protest further, but the sight of him, handing me a huge bottle of my favourite perfume, soon made me forget all about it. I squealed with delight and hugged him. "Oh, Dad, it's perfect!"

He smiled indulgently. "Now that's much better. I don't like to see you sad. We have two weeks left to enjoy together before I have to go back to the office, so let's spend it in good humor. Okay?"

I grinned. "Yes, Dad! Two bags full, Dad!

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, after a pleasant meal cooked by the onboard chef, I wandered outside with my glass of wine and sat down on one of the long, padded seats. It was so peaceful. The sun would be setting shortly, and it was my favorite time of day. Everything seems to calm down at dusk. The wine had given me a warm glow, and I sat, staring out to sea, with a contented smile on my face.

"May I join you?"

It was Cas. Even in my mellow state, I found myself bristling a little. "Only if you aren't going to reprimand me for something!"

He chuckled and sat down a moderate distance away from me, laying his arm along the top of the back cushion. "I only reprimand when the occasion arises. Have you done something I should be aware of?"

"No," I assured him.

"Well then, I have no need to chastise you." He took a sip of the coffee he was holding and looked at me. I stared back at him unashamedly. He was really very good looking. His hair was quite long for a man, just touching the nape of his neck, wavy, medium-brown with blond highlights. No doubt from the sun, as it looked natural. His skin was tanned, his teeth a contrasting pearly white. Yes…very fanciable.

"Are you enjoying your holiday?" he asked.

I didn't have to think hard about that. "Yes, I really am. Dad and I don't get much chance to see each other, as his business keeps him far too occupied. So this has been a lovely break."

"What about your mother?"

"They divorced when I was about three. She lives in Monaco now. I don't really see much of her as we don't get on too well."

"Oh, that's a shame."

"No, it really isn't," I remarked. "If you knew my mother, you'd understand."

"Oh!" He laughed, showing those lovely teeth again. "I see." He downed the rest of his coffee and stood up. "I'll leave you to enjoy the peace."

I took a gulp of wine before saying, "You don't have to go, if you don't want to."

"I'm afraid duty calls, but it was nice of you to offer." He studied me before adding, "I think I may have gotten you all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I took you for a spoiled brat, thinking there was no substance beyond that, but beneath the attitude, you are actually a very nice girl."

My mouth hung open. I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, as it was, in fact, both.

"I'm not spoiled, and I don't have attitude," I objected.

He smiled slowly. "You are, and you do, but with the right tuition, you could change your ways." He turned on his heel. "Good night, Miss Havers."

And he was gone. I frowned and stared blankly out to sea. Spoiled? Attitude? Is that why he was always frowning and shooting disapproving looks at me when he saw me? I shrugged, dismissing him from my mind. I intended to enjoy the sunset, and Cas Connors wasn't going to stop me!

 

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